Feast Day: Saints
Timothy, Agapius, and Thecla, martyrs, 304. St.
Mochteus, bishop and confessor, 535. St. Cumin, bishop
in Ireland, 7th century. St. Lewis, bishop of
Toulouse, confessor, 1297.
ELIZABETH,
ELECTRESS PALATINE
Happiness such as rarely falls
to the lot of crowned heads, might have been the
portion of this lovely and interesting woman, had not
a foolish ambition of being called a queen blighted in
a moment the whole tenor of her life. The eldest child
of James VI of Scotland, she was born at the palace
of Falkland, and when baptized, had for a sponsor the
city of Edinburgh, in the proxies of its provost and
baffles, who stoutly held to their right of seeing the
princess brought up in the Protestant faith. When her
father departed, in 1603, to take possession of the
English throne, he left his consort and young family
to follow him; and their progress through the counties
was marked by festivals and pageants nearly as grand
as those which had signalised the king's own progress.
After a short stay at Windsor, it was deemed necessary
that the little princess should be withdrawn from her
father's palace and placed under the superintendence
of Lord and Lady Harrington, at Combe Abbey. Very
pleasant is the picture of the life led at this lovely
spot, where beautiful gardens, aviaries, park, and
river, charmed the eyes of those who had been
accustomed to the wild, desolate Scottish scenery.
Many noble young ladies were sent to share in the
education of Elizabeth, which seems to have been
admirably conducted by Lord Harrington: a sincere
Christian and learned man, he strove to instruct his
pupil more thoroughly in life and its duties, than in
mere outside show, and but for the lavish expenditure,
arising from her generosity, which he could not
subdue, we may say that he succeeded well.
At the age of fifteen, the
young princess was removed to London, and proposals of
marriage came from all the countries in Europe. France
and Spain drew back, on the ground of religious
differences, and at length Frederick V, Elector
palatine, was the accepted suitor, who, though snubbed
by the queen for his want of a kingly title, was yet
the first in rank of the German princes, ruling those
wide and fertile Rhenish Provinces which now form so
valuable a part of the Prussian dominions. His
reception in October 1612 was of a most joyous kind;
water-processions, tiltings, masques, and feasts
filled up the days, until the
sad death of Prince
Henry threw the royal family into mourning. He
and his sister had always been strongly attached, and
his last words were for her.
The opportunity was, however,
given for her lover to offer his best consolations,
and the deep attachment formed at this period was
never abated during the many trials of their married
life. St. Valentine's Day was appropriately chosen for
the marriage-ceremony; the first royal one that had
ever been performed according to the liturgy of the
Church of England. James's vanity induced him to load
himself on this joyous occasion with six hundred
thousand pounds worth of jewels, and the bride's white
satin dress was embroidered with pearls and gems, and
her coronet set in pinnacles of diamonds and pearls.
Having taken a sad farewell of
her parents, whom she was never to see again, she
sailed to Flushing, and proceeded on a sort of
triumphal march through Holland and Germany, arriving
at her beautiful palace of Heidelberg amidst arches of
flowers and hearty welcomes from her subjects.
Frederick lifted her over the threshold in his arms,
according to old German custom, and introduced her to
his mother and relatives in rooms furnished with solid
silver. The great tun of wine stood on the terrace,
and was twice drunk dry by the scholars, soldiers, and
citizens, who dined in the meadows beneath, by the
banks of the Neckar. For six years this happy couple
reigned in equal prosperity and popularity; three
lovely children rejoiced their parents' hearts; when
the Bohemians, roused to insurrection by the
oppression of the emperor of Germany, offered their
crown to Frederick.
Very thankful would the
Elector have been to decline such a desperate venture
as that of matching his strength with the Imperial
forces: but Elizabeth urged him on with the question,
'Why he had married a king's daughter, if he dreaded
being a king?' The stadtholder, Maurice, was on her
side of the question; while the Electress-Dowager
supported her son. Maurice one day abruptly asked the
Electress-Dowager: 'If there were any green baize to
be got in Heidelberg?' 'Yes, surely,' answered she;
'but what for, Maurice?' 'To make a fool's cap for
him who might be a king and will not!' was the reply
of Maurice. Thus overcome, Frederick signed the
acceptance of the ancient crown of Bohemia, and in
October he and his family made a ceremonial entry into
the old city of Prague, where Taborites, Hussites,
Lutherans, and Catholics were soon at daggers-drawing
with each other and their chosen sovereign.
The Spanish army immediately
seized on Heidelberg and the Palatinate, whilst the
Duke of Bavaria's cannon boomed over the Weissenberg,
and his soldiers descended on Prague. The unfortunate
king assisted his wife into the carriage in which she
had to fly for her life, saying: 'Now I know what I
am. We princes seldom hear the truth until we are
taught it by adversity.' The Catholics broke out into
songs of exultation. Mr. Floyd, a member of parliament
in England, was expelled from the House, branded, and
flogged, for repeating a squib, 'that the king's
daughter fled from Prague like an Irish beggar-woman
with her babe at her back.' Placards were fixed on the
walls of Brussels, offering a reward for 'a king
run-away a few days since, of adolescent age, sanguine colour, middle height, a
cast in one of his eyes, no
moustache, only down on his lip, not badly disposed
when a stolen kingdom did not lie in his way�his name,
Frederick.' Henceforth this royal pair, with their
large family of little princes and princesses, were
only indebted to charity for a home.
By the kindness of the
States-General, Elizabeth found refuge at the Hague.
She maintained a brave heart, indulged in her
favourite sport of hunting, and seemed to suffer
little from the difficulties and privations incidental
to a life of penury. Her dejected husband was
generally with the armies which were desolating
Germany during the fearful Thirty Years' War, until
death carried him away in 1632, at a distance from his
loving wife, in the castle of Mentz. Sorrow at
witnessing the miseries of his people broke his heart
when but thirty-six years of age. The sail tidings
were wholly unexpected by his poor widow, and for
three days she was unable to speak; her brother,
Charles I, shewed her great sympathy and kindness,
allowing her �20,000 a year, and begging her to come
to him. This she declined; but her two elder sons,
Prince Charles and Rupert, spent much time at the
English court, until the former was once more settled
in a part of the Palatinate.
Elizabeth occupied herself
with the education of her daughters and younger sons,
until the troubles began in England, when two of her
sons, including 'the fiery Rupert,' joined their
unfortunate uncle. The close
of the struggle with the
death of Charles, threw the Electress at once into
deep grief, and something like want, for her English
pension necessarily ceased. Her court, nevertheless,
became a refuge for the persecuted loyalists, whilst
her kind, affectionate temper, made her friends among
all sects and parties. Louisa, one of her daughters,
skewed such talent for painting, that her pictures
were often disposed of to assist the needy household;
this clever woman afterwards became a nun at Chaillot,
much to her mother's sorrow.
The restoration in
1660,
brought a last ray of hope to the sorrowful life of
Elizabeth. She longed to see her native country once
more; and when her nephew, the king, declared his
inability to bear the expense of a state-visit, she
determined to come incognito, to her generous friend,
Lord Craven, who offered her his house in Drury Lane.
We soon hear of her entering into the gaieties of
London, and being the first lady of the court; �12,000
a year was settled upon her, and happiness seemed in
store; but in less than a year after her arrival,
inflammation of the lungs attacked her, and she died
on the eve of St. Valentine's Day, just forty-nine
years after she had been made a happy bride, and was
buried at Westminster Abbey, with a torchlight
procession on the Thames. Of her seven sons, not one
left a grandson; and it was through her youngest
daughter, Sophia, that the present royal family came
to the British throne.
COUNT RUMFORD
Sir Benjamin Thompson, better
known as Count Rumford, was one of those few but
fortunate men who have both the means and the
inclination to be useful to society generally. He was
continually doing something or other, that had for its
object, or one of its objects, public or individual
improvement. He was an American, born at Rumford, in
New England, in 1752. After receiving a good
education, and marrying advantageously, he espoused
the cause of the mother-country against the colonies
during the American war, and was knighted by George
III for his services. Sir Benjamin, in 1784, made a
continental tour, and eventually entered the service
of the king of Bavaria, in the singular capacity of a
general reformer. He remodelled the whole military
system of the country; he suppressed a most
pernicious system of mendicancy that prevailed in
Munich; he taught the people to like and to cultivate
potatoes, against which they had before had a
prejudice; he organised a plan for employing the poor
in useful pursuits; and he introduced a multitude of
new and curious contrivances of various kinds. He was
made a count for his services.
He returned to England in
1799, but lived mostly in France, till his death on
the 19th of August 1814. Count Rumford's papers in the
Philosophical Transactions, and his detached
scientific essays, range over the subjects of food,
cooking, fuel, fireplaces, ventilation, smoky
chimneys, sources of heat, conduction of heat, warm
baths, uses of steam, artificial illumination,
portable lamps, sources of light, broad-wheeled
carriages, &c. He was well-versed in English, French,
German, Spanish, and Italian. He founded the 'Rumford
Medal' of the Royal Society: leaving �1000 stock in
the three per cents, the interest of which is applied
biennially, in payment for a gold medal, to reward the
best discoverers in light and heat; and he benefited
many other scientific institutions.
Count Rumford adopted a
singular winter-dress while at Paris�white from head
to foot. This he did in obedience to the ascertained
fact, that the natural heat of the body radiates and
wastes less quickly through light than dark-coloured
substances. But the most remarkable achievement of
Rumford's life, perhaps, was the suppression of the
beggars at Munich. Mendicancy had risen to a
deplorable evil, sapping the industrial progress of
the people, and leading to idleness, robbery, and the
most shameless debauchery. The civil power could not
battle against the evil; but Rumford took it in hand.
He caused a large building to be constructed, and
filled it with useful implements of trade�but without
letting the beggars into the secret.
Having instructed the garrison
and the magistrates in the parts they were to fill, he
fixed on the 1st of January 1790, as the day for a
coup d�tat, when the beggars would be more than
usually on the look-out for New-year's gifts. 'Count
Rumford began by arresting the first beggar he met
with his own hand. No sooner had their commander set
the example, than the officers and soldiers cleared
the streets with equal promptitude and success, but at
the same time with all imaginable good-nature; so that
before night, not a single beggar was to be seen in
the whole metropolis. As fast as they were arrested,
they were conducted to the town-hall, where their
names were inscribed, and they were then dismissed
with directions to repair the next day to the new
workhouse provided for them, where they would find
employment, and a sufficiency of wholesome food. By
persevering in this plan, and by the establishment of
the most excellent practical regulations, the count so
far overcame prejudice, habit, and attachment, that
these heretofore miserable objects began to cherish
the idea of independence�to feel a pride in obtaining
an honest livelihood�to prefer industry to idleness,
and decency to filth, rags, and the squalid
wretchedness attendant on beggary. In order to attain
these important objects, he introduced new
manufactures into the electoral dominions.'
ROBERT BLOOMFIELD
Robert Bloomfield, when he
wrote his Farmer's Boy, drew upon his own experience.
His father was a tailor, his mother a
village-schoolmistress, his uncle a farmer, and under
this uncle the fatherless lad was placed. But the labour of his employment, it
is said, proved too much
for a delicate constitution; so he went to live in
London with an elder brother, and learned the trade of
a shoemaker. The Muses whispered their secrets in his
ear, as he sat working in his garret, and he wrote
down what they said: in due time, with the help of a
patron, the shoemaker's verses were published, and the
polite world was astonished.
In these days, when the
advantages and opportunities of education have been
extended to the humblest in the land, and the simplest
village letter-carrier is expected to be informed as
to higher matters than mere numbers of houses and
names of streets, poems from the pens of men of humble
origin are not such a wonderful thing as they were in
Bloomfield's time. The art of writing verses is as
simple to acquire as the art of mending shoes. Further
than this, all men, from whatever classes they may
have sprung, and how differently soever they may have
been reared to manhood, have inherently the same
passions, hopes, feelings, and tendencies. The sweet
influences of nature sway the farmer's boy and the
lord's heir alike, if in different degrees, or after
different fashions. The difficulty which stands in the
way of a rustic, when he takes a pen in his hand, is
not how to find thoughts, or feel emotions, but how to
give expression to them. This difficulty education has
tended much to remove, and hence we now encounter
poetic post-boys and rhyming shoemakers much more
often than we used to do.
Poor Robert Bloomfield!
Ambition led him astray! He was lifted off his feet.
When the great smiled on him, he thought himself
famous; when they forgot him in due course, he
sickened and despaired, and only preserved his reason
by surrendering his life. It is a sad thing not to
distinguish clearly what one is, and what one is not,
and a most dangerous thing for one who is deserving to
hanker after notoriety.
THE SCRATCH-BACK
The curious little instruments
here figured are of extreme rarity, and probably not
many of our readers have ever heard of, much less
seen, any examples of them. The name, 'Scratch-back,'
is not very euphonious, but it is remarkably
expressive, and conveys a correct notion of the use of
the curious little instrument to which it belongs. The
'scratch-back' was literally, as its name implies,
formed for the purpose of scratching the backs of our
fair and stately great and great-great-grand-mothers,
and their ancestresses from the time of Queen
Elizabeth; and very choicely set and carved some of
them assuredly were. Sometimes the handles were of
silver elegantly chased, and we have seen one example
where a ring on the finger of the hand was set with
brilliants. But few of these relics have passed down
to our times, and even in instances where they are
preserved, their original use has been forgotten. At
one time, scratch-backs were almost as indispensable
an accompaniment to a lady of quality as her fan and
her patch-box. They were kept in her toilet, and
carried with her even to her box at the play.
The
first one, engraved on the accompanying illustration,
is twelve inches in length. At the upper end is an
ivory knob, with a hole, through which a cord could be
passed for suspension to the waist, or for hanging in
the dressing-room. The handle or shaft is mottled, and
the practical end, or scratcher, is a beautifully
carved hand of ivory. The fingers are placed in the
proper position for the operation, and would lead one
to believe that the carver must have studied pretty
closely from nature. The finger-nails are particularly
sharp and well formed, and designed to scratch in the
most approved fashion. This seems to have been the
most favourite form for this strange instrument, of
which form I have seen three examples.
The second example in our
engraving is of about the same length as the one just
described. This instrument is made entirely of horn,
one end being pierced for suspension, and the other
formed into three teeth or claws, sharp at the ends
and bent forward. It is particularly simple in
construction, but evidently would be as effective as
the more artistic and elaborate example just
described.
The third specimen which I
give is, like the first, partly of ivory, and
beautifully carved. The stick or shaft is of
tortoise-shell, and it has a little silver ring at the
top, and a rim of silver to cover the junction of the
tortoise-shell and ivory. The scratcher is formed like
the foot of a bird, with the claws set, and, of
course, made very sharp at the points. The foot is
beautifully carved, and remarkably well formed; and
the instrument must have been one of the best of its
class. On the under-side of the foot of this example
are the initials of its fair owner, A. W., cut into
the ivory.
It would add to the interest
of this little notice could we tell our readers to
whom these precious little relics had belonged, and
whose fair backs they had scratched; but this we
cannot do. All we can do is, to give them
representations of these curious instruments, explain
their uses, describe their construction, and heartily
congratulate our fair friends on their not being
required in our day. In former times, when personal
cleanliness was not considered essential, when the
style of dress worn was anything but conducive to
comfort and ease�for it must be remembered that, in
the last century, ladies' immensely-high head-dresses,
when once fixed, were frequently not disturbed or
altered for a month, and not until they had become
almost intolerable to the wearer and to her
friends�and when the domestic manners of the
aristocracy, as well as others, were not of the most
refined and delicate kind, the use of these little
instruments, with many other matters which we may yet
take the opportunity of describing, became almost
essential. In our day they are not so, and we have no
fear of seeing their use revived.
L. L. J.