Died: Emperor Louis I
of Germany, 'the Pious,' 876, Frankfort; Sir Francis
Vero, distinguished military commander and author,
1608, Portsmouth; Hugo Grotius, eminent jurist, 1645,
Rostock; Count Axel Oxenstiern, Swedish chancellor
under Gustavus Adolphus, 1654; Charles Boyle, Earl of
Orrery, celebrated antagonist of Bentley, 1731; John
Hutchinson, mystic theologian, 1737, London; Leigh
Hunt, poet, critic, miscellaneous writer, 1859,
Putney; William Lyon Mackenzie, leader in the Canadian
Rebellion of 1837, 1861, Toronto.
Feast Day: St. Hermes,
martyr, about 132. St. Julian, martyr at Brioude. St.
Augustine or Austin, bishop of Hippo, confessor, and
doctor of the church, 430.
ST.
AUGUSTINE
St. Augustine, usually styled
'the greatest of the fathers,' is held in about equal
reverence by Catholics and Protestants. Calvinists and Jansenists especially
have resorted to his writings
for sympathy and authority.
Augustine was an African,
being born at Tagaste, a city of Numidia, in 354. His
father was a pagan, and his mother, Monica, a
Christian of earnest piety, who longed with exceeding
desire for her son's conversion. In his boyhood,
falling seriously ill, he desired to submit to the
rite of baptism, but, the danger being averted, the
rite was deferred. As he grew up, his morals became
corrupted, and he lapsed into profligate habits. The
perusal, in his nineteenth year, of Cicero's Hortensius (a work now lost), made
a deep impression
on his mind, and stirred within him aspirations after
a nobler life. At this juncture he became a convert of
the Manichaeans, and for nine years an able advocate
of their opinions.
The Manichaeans were a sect founded
by one Manes about 261. He confounded the teaching of
Christ with that of Zoroaster, and held that the
government of the universe was shared by two powers,
one good and the other bad: the first, which he called
Light, did nothing but good; the second, which he
called Darkness, did nothing but evil. Meanwhile,
Augustine taught grammar at Tagaste, and then rhetoric
at Carthage, but growing disgusted with the vicious
character of his pupils, he determined to go to Rome,
much against the will of his mother. In Rome he
attracted many scholars, but finding them no better
than on the other side of the Mediterranean, he
removed to Milan, where he was elected professor of
rhetoric.
The intrepid Ambrose ruled at
that time as arch-bishop in Milan, and by his ministry
Augustine was delivered from the Manichaean heresy.
The vacation of 386, he spent at the country-seat of
his friend Verecundus, in the diligent study of the
Scriptures; and, in the Easter of the following year,
he, with his son Adeodatus, a youth of singular
genius, was baptized by Ambrose. Shortly after, his
faithful mother, rejoicing in the fulfilment of her
prayers, visited Milan, and persuaded him to return to
Africa, but on their way thither she fell sick, and
died at Ostia. Augustine, associating himself with
eleven pious men, retired to a villa outside the walls
of Hippo, and passed three years in monastic
seclusion, in fasting, prayer, study, and meditation.
He entered the priesthood in 391; and at a church
council he spoke with such vigour and learning that he
was, with common consent, raised to the bishopric of
Hippo in 396.
In defence and illustration of the
Christian faith, his tongue and pen during the
remainder of his life were incessantly engaged. The
composition of his great work, De Civitate Dei, is
believed to have occupied him seventeen years. In 430,
the Vandals, having overrun Africa, laid siege to
Hippo, and Augustine, an old man of seventy-six,
prayed for death ere the city was taken. In the third
month of the siege, on the 28th of August, a fever cut
him off. When the city, some months after his death,
was captured and burned, the library was fortunately
saved which contained his voluminous writings�two
hundred and thirty-two separate books or treatises on
theological subjects, besides a complete exposition of
the psalter and the gospels, and a copious magazine of
epistles and homilies. The best account of Augustine
is found in his Confessions, in which, with
unflinching and sorrowful courage, he records the
excesses of his youth and the progress of his life in
Christ.
RESISTANCE TO FIRE
The Augustinian or Austin
Friars took their name from the holy bishop of Hippo.
Camerarius, in his Horae Subsecivae, tells a cruious
story, relating to the decision of a controversy,
between this brother-hood and the Jesuits. It appears
that, one day, the father-general of the Augustinians,
with some of his friars, was receiving the hospitality
of a Jesuits' college; on the cloth being removed, he
entered into a formal discourse on the
super-excellence of his order, in comparison with that
of the Jesuits; insisting particularly on the
surpassing discipline of the friars, caused by their
more stringent and solemn vows of obedience. The
Augustinian, being very eloquent, learned, and a
skilled debater, had the best of the argument; but the
superior of the Jesuits, foreseeing the discussion,
had prepared to meet his opponent in another fashion.
Words, he replied, were mere wind, but he could at
once give a decided and practical, if not miraculous
proof, of the more implicit obedience and greater
sanctity of the Jesuits. 'I shall be very glad to
witness such a proof;' sneeringly replied the unwary
Augustinian. Then,' said the Jesuit to one of his
inferiors, 'Brother Mark, my hands are cold, fetch me
some fire from the kitchen to warns them. Do not wait
to put the burning coals in a chafing dish, but just
carry them hither in your hands.' Mark gave a cheerful
response, left the room, and immediately returned, to
the surprise and dismay of the Augustinians, carrying
burning coals of fire in his naked hands; which he
held to his superior to warm himself at, and, when
commanded, took then back to the kitchen-hearth. The
superior of the Jesuits, then, without speaking,
bestowed a peculiarly triumphant and inquiring look on
the general of the Augustinians, as much as to say,
will any of your inferiors do that for you? The
Augustinian, in turn, looked wistfully on one of the
most docile of his friars, as if he wished to command
him to do the like. But the friar, perfectly
understanding the look, and seeing there was no time
for hesitation, hurriedly exclaimed: 'Reverend Father,
forbear; do not command me to tempt God! I am ready to
fetch you fire in a chafing dish, but not in my bare
hands.'
The art or trick of handling
fire with impunity has been so often practised by
jugglers and mountebanks, during the last fifty years,
that it has now lost its attraction as an exhibition;
though at an earlier period it created great wonder,
affording an ample remuneration to its professors. One
Richardson, an Englishman, astonished the greater part
of Europe by his tricks with fire; and, though a mere
juggler, acquired a sort of semi-scientific position,
by a notice of his feats in the Journal des Scavans
for 1680. Evelyn saw this man, and gives the following
account of his performances. Having called upon Lady
Sutherland, he says: 'She made me stay dinner, and
sent for Richardson, the famous fire-eater. He
devoured brimstone on glowing coals before us, chewing
and swallowing them; he melted a beer-glass, and eat
it quite up; then taking a live coal on his tongue, he
put on it a raw oyster, the coal was blown with
bellows, till it flamed and sparkled in his mouth, and
so remained till the oyster gaped and was quite
boiled. Then he melted pitch and wax together with
sulphur, which he drank down as it flamed. I saw it
flaming in his mouth a good while; he also took up a
thick piece of iron, such as laundresses use to put in
their smoothing-boxes, when it was fiery hot, he held
it between his teeth, then in his hand, and threw it
about like a stone; but this, I observed, he cared not
to hold very long.'
In ancient history, we find
several examples of people, who possessed the art of
touching fire without being burned. The priestesses of
Diana, at Castabala, in Cappadocia, commanded public
veneration, by walking over red-hot iron. The Hirpi, a
people of Etruria, walked among glowing embers, at an
annual festival held on Mount Soracte; and thus
proving their sacred character, received certain
privileges�among others, exemption from military
service�from the Roman senate. One of the most
astounding stories of antiquity is related in the
Zenda-Vesta, to the effect that Zoroaster, to confute
his calumniators, allowed fluid lead to be poured over
his body, without receiving any injury. Yet M.
Boutigny, the discoverer of the science of bodies in a
spheroidal state, has amply proved in his own person
the extreme easiness of the feat.
The fiery ordeals of the
middle ages, in which accused persons proved their
innocence of the crimes imputed to them, by walking
blindfold among red-hot ploughshares, or holding
heated irons in their hands without receiving injury,
were always conducted by the clergy; who, no doubt,
had sufficient knowledge of the trick to turn the
result as best accorded with their own views. Richardi,
queen of Charles le Gros of France, Cunegonda, empress
of Germany, and Emma, mother of Edward the Confessor,
all proved their innocence by the ordeal of fire.
Albertus Magnus, after trial by ordeal had been
abolished, published the secret of the art; which
merely consisted in rubbing the hands and feet with
certain compositions.
A Signora Josephine Girardelli,
attracted most fashionable metropolitan audiences, in
the early part of the present century, by her feats
with fire. She stood with her naked feet on a plate of
red-hot iron, and subsequently drew the same plate
over her hair and tongue. She washed her hands in
boiling oil; and placing melting lead in her mouth,
after a few moments, produced it again solidified, and
bearing the impression of her teeth.
M. Boutigny, in his work on
the spheroidal state of bodies, and Mr. Pepper of the
Polytechnic Institution, London, in an amusing
lecture, have fully exemplified the principles on
which these feats are performed. Some of them,
however, being mere juggling tricks, are not for
scientific explanation. For instance, the performer
taking an iron spoon, holds it up to the spectators,
to skew that it is empty; then, dipping it into a pot
containing melted lead, he again spews it to the
spectators full of the molten metal; then, after
putting the spoon to his mouth, he once more shews it
to be empty; and after compressing his lips, with a
look expressive of pain, he, in a few moments, ejects
from his mouth, a piece of lead, impressed by the
exact form of his teeth. Ask a spectator what he saw,
and he will say that the performer took a spoonful of
molten lead, placed it in his mouth, and soon
afterwards spewed it in a solid state, bearing the
exact form and impression of his teeth. If deception
be insinuated, the spectator will say, 'No! having the
evidence of my senses, I cannot be deceived; if it had
been a matter of opinion I might, but seeing, you
know, is believing.'
Now, the piece of lead, cast
from a plaster mould of the performer's teeth, has
probably officiated in a thousand previous
performances, and is placed in the mouth, between the
gum and cheek, just before the trick commences. The
spoon is made with a hollow handle containing
quicksilver, which, by a simple motion, can be let run
into the bowl, or back again into the handle at will.
The spoon is first shewn with the quick-silver
concealed in the handle, the bowl is then dipped just
within the rim of the pot containing the molten lead,
but not into the lead itself, and, at the same
instant, the quicksilver is allowed to run into the
bowl. The spoon is then shewn with the quicksilver
(which the audience take to be melted lead) in the
bowl, and when placed in the mouth, the quicksilver is
again allowed. to run into the handle. The performer,
in fact, takes a spoonful of nothing, and soon after
exhibits the lead.
LEIGH
HUNT
Among the numerous
distinguished literary characters of the first half of
the nineteenth century, no man more fully answered to
the appellation of 'a man of letters' than Leigh Hunt.
He exercised no inconsiderable influence on the
literature of his day. As a political writer, he stood
at one time almost alone in a resolute advocacy of an
independent and enlightened spirit of journalism, as
distinguished from mere party-scribbling; as a critic
of poetry and art, he contributed much to the
overthrow of the pedantry and narrow maxims of the
Johnsonian era; and, as an entertaining and popular
writer, he figures in the van of that illustrious
army, which has since, with such singular success,
fought the battle of the people, and established the
right of labouring men to educational advantages.
Leigh Hunt was born on the
19th of October 1784. His father, Isaac Hunt, was
descended from some of the earliest settlers in
Barbadoes, and practised successfully as an advocate;
but, espousing the cause of the king in the American
struggle, he was seized and put in prison; and
probably only saved himself from unpleasant handling
by bribing the jailer. He made his escape to England,
leaving his wife and family behind, and some time
elapsed before they could join him. Mrs. Isaac Hunt
came of a Quaker stock, and would have done honour to
any sect. Her husband became a clergyman and popular
preacher, but behaving with too imprudent generosity
on a certain occasion, in which royalty was
implicated, he never secured the promotion which he
confidently expected.
Leigh Hunt was sent to Christ
Hospital, where he remained some years, but he did not
proceed to the university from that foundation,
because a habit of stammering which he had, as well as
a laxness of orthodoxy, derived from changes in the
views of both parents, led him honestly to refuse to
promise to enter the ministry. For some time he did
nothing, not knowing what profession to take up; then
he entered the office of an attorney, his elder
brother; in the next place, he became a clerk in the
War-Office, through the patronage of Mr. Addington;
and, finally, he decided, and decided wisely, to
become a man of letters.
In 1802, when Leigh Hunt was
only eighteen, the Rev. Isaac Hunt was so pleased with
his verses, that he published them, by subscription,
under the title of Juvenilia. He ought to have known
better, for the boy's vanity was by no means lessened
by the notice that was taken of him.
Leigh Hunt made his first
great advance towards celebrity as a dramatic critic.
He diligently attended the theatres; resolutely
refused to form any acquaintances with actors or
managers, in order to preserve his independence; and
bringing his extensive reading and liberal views to
bear on the emptiness of dramatic productions, he made
such a stir by his papers in the Traveller, that
playgoers learned to accept his dictum without demur,
and play-performers to hate him.
His next career was that of a
journalist. He joined with his brother John in setting
up a weekly paper, named the Examiner. The noble and
independent, and, at the same time, liberal spirit in
which the paper was conducted, drew all eyes upon it.
It took no side; it stood alone. The Tories execrated
it; and the Whigs, although, in the main, it advocated
their views, were afraid to support it. Nevertheless,
it succeeded in acquiring, by its honest
plain-speaking, sufficient influence to make it
troublesome, and at length the government of the day
felt the necessity of punishing disinterestedness so
glaring, and watched its opportunity. On three
successive occasions the attempt was made, and on each
the editors escaped. The Examiner's first offence was
defending a certain Major Hogan, who accused the Duke
of York, as commander-in-chief, of favouritism and
corruption. The second was the following curious
remark: ' Of all monarchs since the Revolution, the
successor of George III. will have the finest
opportunity of becoming nobly popular.' The third was
an article against military flogging.
These three cases of
prosecution were not carried out; but a fourth was to
come. The government was exasperated by failure, and
when it struck at last, the blow was severe. We cannot
do better than record the affair in the words of Leigh
Hunt's eldest son:
'The occurrence which
prompted the article was a public dinner on St.
Patrick's Day, at which the chairman, Lord. Moira, a
generous man, made not the slightest allusion to the
Prince Regent; and Mr. Sheridan, who manfully stood
up for his royal friend, declaring that he still
sustained the principles of the Prince Regent, was
saluted by angry shouts, and cries of "Change the
subject!"
The Whig Morning Chronicle moralised this theme; and
the Morning Post, which
then affected to be the organ of the court, replied
to the Chronicle, partly in vapid prose railing, and
partly in a wretched poem, graced with epithets,
intending to be extravagantly flattering to the
prince. To this reply the Examiner rejoined in a
paper of considerable length, analysing the whole
facts, and translating the language of adulation
into that of truth. The close of the article shows
its spirit and purpose, and is a fair specimen of
Leigh Hunt's political writing at that time:
"What person, unacquainted
with the true state of the case, would imagine, in
reading these astounding eulogies, that this ' glory
of the people' was the subject of millions of shrugs
and reproaches? �that this 'protector of the arts'
had named a wretched foreigner his historical
painter, in disparagement or in ignorance of the
merits of his own countrymen? � that this 'Mecaenas
of the age' patronised not a single deserving
writer?�that this 'breather of eloquence' could not
say a few decent extempore words, if we are to
judge, at least, from what he said to his regiment
on its embarkation for Portugal?�that this
'conqueror of hearts' was the disappointer of
hopes?�that this ' exciter of desire' [bravo!
Messieurs of the Post!] � this 'Adonis in
loveliness' was a corpulent man of fifty? in short,
this delightful, blissful, wise, pleasurable,
honourable, virtuous, true, and immortal prince, was
a violator of his word, a libertine, over head and
ears in disgrace, a despiser of domestic ties, the
companion of gamblers and demireps, a man who has
just closed half a century without one single claim
on the gratitude of his country, or the respect of
posterity?" ...
This article, no doubt,' says
Leigh Hunt at a later period, 'was very bitter and
contemptuous; therefore, in the legal sense of the
term, very libellous; the more so, inasmuch as it was
very true!' Admit that it was true, and that words of
truth, however bitter and blasting, if the speaker can
substantiate them, ought not to be held as a libel.
One, nevertheless, cannot wonder that the authors of
such language against a reigning prince received
castigation. The punishment was cruel: the brothers
were fined a thousand pounds, and imprisoned for two
years in separate cells. It is a noble fact in their
favour, that, being promised privately a remission of
the punishment, if they would abstain for the future
from unpleasant remarks, John and Leigh. Hunt refused
the offer. They also declined to allow a generous
stranger to pay the fine in their stead.
Leigh Hunt's account of his
prison-life is very interesting. He was ill when he
entered on it, and this illness, and want of
exercise, permanently injured his constitution; but he
passed the time pleasantly enough. He papered his
prison-walls with roses, and painted the ceiling like
a sky; he furnished his room with a piano, with
bookshelves, with his wife and all his children, and
turned a little yard into an arbour of summer
loveliness by the help of flowers and paint. We should
have been pleased to possess a fuller history of what
was said and done in this noteworthy prison-cell.
Charles Lamb was a
daily visitor. Thomas Moore
introduced Byron, who afterwards
came frequently to
dine or chat, and was very courteous to the prisoner.
And many other worthies, whom Leigh Hunt had not
previously known, on this occasion introduced
themselves, among whom were Charles Cowden Clarke,
William Hazlitt, and Jeremy
Bentham. He lost no old
friends, and made many new ones. Shelley, though
almost a stranger to him, made him what he calls 'a
princely offer,' and Keats penned a sonnet, which was
all he could do:
WRITTEN ON THE DAY THAT
MR. LEIGH HUNT LEFT PRISON
What though, for shewing
truth to flattered state,
Kind Hunt was shut in prison, yet has he,
In his immortal spirit, been as free
As the sky-searching lark, and as elate.
Minion of grandeur! think you he did wait?
Think you he nought but prison-walls did see,
Till, so unwilling, thou unturn'dst the key?
Ah, no! far happier, nobler was his fate!
In Spenser's halls he strayed, and bowers fair,
Culling enchanted flowers; and he flew
With daring Milton through the fields of air;
To regions of his own his genius true
Took happy flights. Who shall his fame impair,
When thou art dead, and all thy wretched crew?'
Leigh Hunt entered prison on
the 3rd of February 1813, and left it on the same day
two years later. The next most noticeable event of his
personal history is his friendship with Shelley. It
was by Shelley's inducement that he undertook a
journey to Italy, to co-operate with Shelley and Byron
in a liberal periodical which they proposed to bring
out. The voyage proved a troublesome one. He engaged
to embark in September 1821, he actually embarked on
November 16 of that year, and, after narrowly escaping
shipwreck with his family, the whole of which he had
on board, he was landed at Dart-mouth. He embarked
again in May 1822, and reached Italy in June. Before
he had been many days in Italy, his friend was
drowned, and Byron shewed signs of relenting in the
matter of the periodical. It was but a short
connection, as might have been expected. Byron went to
Greece, and Leigh Hunt stayed in Italy till 1825,
after which he returned to England.
The rest of his life was
passed in literary projects, in getting into debt, and
getting out of it, in pleas-ant communing with his
numerous literary friends, among whom were Barry
Cornwall, Thomas Carlyle, the Brownings, and many
others, in attempts to live cheerfully under
affliction, and, chief of all, in accumulating
book-lore. His closing years were rendered more happy
by an opportune pension of �200 a year, which Lord
John Russell obtained for him. He died on the 28th of
August 1859, and was buried, according to his wish, in
Kensal Green Cemetery.
Leigh Hunt had a kind heart
and a cheerful spirit; he was a man of simple tastes
and no inclination to expense. If he could have gone
through life as a child under tutelage, he might have
smiled on to its close, and died as the gay insects do
at the close of the season. As a man with
responsibilities to his fellow-men, and to a wife and
children, he failed in duty, and consequently lost in
happiness. It was quite impossible, however, for any
one with the most ordinary share of generosity to know
him and not love him. In literature he might be said
to take a high place among the dii minores. His
poetry, though burdened with mannerism, charms by its
sparkling vivacity; and of his many essays it would be
possible to select at least a hundred which reach a
degree of classic excellence.
THE EGLINTOUN
TOURNAMENT
It was an idea not unworthy of
a young nobleman of ancient lineage and ample
possessions, to set forth a living picture, as it
were, of the medieval tournament before the eyes of a
modern generation. When the public learned that such
an idea had occurred to the Earl of Eglintoun, and
that it was to be carried out in the beautiful park
surrounding his castle in Ayrshire, it felt as if a
new pleasure had been at length invented. And,
undoubtedly, if only good weather could have been
secured, the result could not have fallen short of the
expectations which were formed.
Nearly two years were spent in
making the necessary preparations, and on the 28th of
August 1839, the proceedings commenced in the presence
of an immense concourse of spectators, many of whom,
in obedience to a hint previously given, had come in
fancy-costumes. The spot chosen for the tourney was
about a quarter of a mile eastward of the castle,
surrounded by beautiful scenery; it comprised an arena
of four acres, with a boarded fence all round. At
convenient places, were galleries to hold 3000
persons, one for private friends of the earl and the
knights who were to take part in the mimic contest,
and the other for visitors of a less privileged kind.
In the middle of the arena were barriers to regulate
the jousts of the combatants. Each of the knights had
a separate marquee or pavilion for himself and his
attendants.
The decorations everywhere
were of the most costly character, being aided by many
trappings which had recently been used at the Queen's
coronation. Besides keeping 'open house' at the
castle, the earl provided two temporary saloons, each
250 feet long, for banquets and balls. But the weather
was unfavourable to the 'brave knights;' the rain fell
heavily; spectators marred the medievalism of the
scene by hoisting umbrellas; and the 'Queen of Beauty'
and her ladies, who were to have ridden on
elegantly-caparisoned palfreys, were forced to take
refuge in carriages. A procession started from the
castle in the midst of a drenching shower. It
comprised men-at-arms clad in demi-suits of armour,
musicians, trumpeters, banner-bearers, marshals,
heralds, pursuivants, a 'judge of the peace,'
retainers, halberdiers, a knight-marshal, a jester,
archers, servitors, swordsmen, and chamberlains�all
attired in the most splendid costumes that befitted
their several characters. These were mostly
subordinates.
The chiefs were fifteen
knights, and about double as many esquires and
pages�nearly all in magnificent armour, whole or demi.
The knights were the Marquis of Water-ford, the Earls
of Eglintoun, Craven, and Cassius; Viscounts Alford
and Glenlyon; Captains Gage, Fairlie, and Beresford;
Sirs Frederick Johnstone and Francis Hopkins; and
Messrs Jerningham, Lamb, Boothby, and Lechmere. These
knights all bore chivalric appellations�such as the
Knights of the Dragon, the Griffin, the Black Lion,
the Dolphin, the Crane, the Ram, the Swan, the Golden
Lion, the White Rose, the Stag's Head, the Burning
Tower, the Lion's Paw, &c.; these emblems and symbols
being emblazoned on the trappings of the several
knights and their retainers. Some of the dresses were
exceedingly gorgeous. The Marquis of Londonderry, as
'King of the Tournament,' wore a magnificent train of
green velvet, embroidered with gold, covered by a
crimson-velvet cloak trimmed with gold and ermine, and
having a crown covered in with crimson velvet; the
Earl of Eglintoun, as 'Lord of the Tournament,' had a
rich damasked suit of gilt armour, with a skirt of
chain-mail; and Sir Charles Lamb, as 'Knight Marshal,'
had a suit of black armour, embossed and gilt, and
covered by a richly-emblazoned surcoat. The esquires
and pages were all gentle-men of fortune and position.
Lady Seymour, as 'Queen of Beauty,' wore a robe of
crimson velvet, with the Seymour crest .embroidered in
silver on blue velvet, and a cloak of cerise velvet
trimmed with gold and ermine. The ladies in the chief
gallery were mostly attired in the costumes of the
fourteenth and fifteenth centuries.
Under most discouraging
circumstances the cavalcade set forth�the
gaily-trimmed horses splashing in the dirt, the armour
washed with pitiless rain, and the velvets and laces
saturated with wet. The knights with their esquires
entered their several pavilions, while the rest of the
personages took up the posts allotted to them. The
knights issued forth from their pavilions two and two,
paid their devoirs to the fair ladies in the
galleries, and then fought to the sound of trumpet.
This fighting consisted in galloping against each
other, and each striking his lance against the armour
of the other; the lances were so made of wood as to be
easily broken, and thus there was no great danger
incurred.
After several couples had thus
jousted, the Earl of Eglintoun and the Marquis of
Waterford (the 'Lord of the Tournament' and the
'Knight of the Dragon') came forward, most gorgeously
arrayed and armed, and attended by no fewer than eight
esquires and pages. After running at each other until
two lances were broken, the earl was declared the best
knight of the day, and was rewarded by the 'Queen of
Beauty' with a crown of victory. But the incessant
rain sadly marred the whole affair; and the day's
jousting ended with a very unpicturesque broadsword
combat between an actor and a soldier, engaged for the
purpose. In every sense was the day's joyousness
damped; for when the guests were quite ready for a
grand banquet and ball in the evening, it was found
that the two temporary pavilions, fitted up in the
most splendid manner, were flooded with water from the
heavy rains, and were quite useless for the purposes
intended. On the 29th, the weather was nearly as bad;
no jousting in the lists was attempted, but some mimic
tilts took place under cover, in which one personage
took part who was destined to fill an important place
in the history of Europe�Prince Louis Napoleon,
afterwards the Emperor Napoleon III of France.
On the 30th, the skies were
more favourable; the joustings were renewed, and were
wound up by a tourney of eight knights armed with
swords�used in some inoffensive way against each
other's armour. Measures had been taken to render the
banqueting-hall and ball-room available, and the day
ended with a banquet for 300 persons and a ball for
1000. The 31st came, and with it weather so stormy and
ungenial that any further proceedings with the
tournament were abandoned. And thus ended this most
costly affair. The spot had been so selected that,
outside the fence, an enormous number of spectators
might witness the proceedings; and it was estimated
that little under 200,000 persons availed themselves
of this opportunity on one or other of the four days
�coining from almost every county in Scotland, and
from various parts of England and Ireland. The
Ardrossan Railway Company trebled their fares; and
whoever had a gig or other vehicle to let at Glasgow,
could command extravagant terms for it.
