Born: Regnier de Graaf,
1641, Schoenhaven, in Holland; Richard Cumberland,
bishop of Peterborough, 1632.
Died: Pope John III,
573; Emperor Henry II, 1024; Du Guesclin, constable of
France, illustrious warrior, 1380,
Ch�teauneuf-Randon; Sir William Berkley, 1677,
Twickenham; Richard Cromwell, ex-Protector of the
three kingdoms, 1712, Cheshunt; Elijah Fenton, poet,
1730, Easthampstead; Bishop John Conybeare, 1758,
Bristol; Dr. James Bradley, astronomer, 1762; Rev. John Lingard, author of a
History of
England, 1851, Hornby, near Lancaster.
Feast Day: St.
Anacletus, martyr, 2nd century; St. Eugenius, bishop of
Carthage, and his companions, martyrs, 505; St. Turiaf,
Turiave or Thivisiau, bishop of Doi, in Brittany,
about 749.
FESTIVAL OF MIRACLES
This day (July 13th), if Sunday,
or the first Sunday after the 13th, begins
the festival of the Miracles at Brussels, which lasts
for fifteen days. The first day, Sunday, however, is
the grand day of celebration; for on this takes place
the public procession of the Holy Sacrament of the
Miracles. We had an opportunity of witnessing this
locally celebrated affair on Sunday, July 15th,
1860, and next day procured from one of the
ecclesiastical officials a historical account of the
festival, of which we offer an abridgment.
In the year 1369, there lived
at Enghein, in Hainault, a rich Jew, named Jonathan,
who, for purposes of profanation, desired to procure
some consecrated wafers. In this object he was
assisted by another Jew, named Jean de Louvain, who
resided in Brussels, and had hypocritically renounced
Judaism. Jean was poor, and in the hope of reward
gladly undertook to steal some of the wafers from one
of the churches. After examination, he found that the
church of St. Catherine, at Brussels, offered the best
opportunity for the theft. Gaining access by a window
on a dark night in October, he secured and carried off
the pix containing the consecrated wafers; and the
whole were handed to Jonathan, who gave his appointed
reward. Jonathan did not long survive this act of
sacrilege. He was assassinated in his garden, and his
murderers remained unknown. After his death, his widow
gave the pix, with the wafers, to a body of Jews in
Brussels, who, in hatred of Christianity, were anxious
to do the utmost indignity to the wafers. The day they
selected for the purpose was Good Friday, 1370. On
that day, meeting in their synagogue, they spread the
holy wafers, sixteen in number, on a table, and with
horrid imprecations proceeded to stab them with
poniards. To their amazement, the wounded wafers
spouted out blood, and in consternation they fled from
the spot!
Anxious to rid themselves of
objects on which so very extraordinary a miracle had
been wrought, these wicked Jews engaged a woman, named
Catherine, to carry the wafers to Cologne, though what
she was to do with them there is not mentioned.
Catherine fulfilled her engagement, but with an
oppressed conscience she, on her return, went and
revealed all to the rector of the parish church. The
Jews concerned in the sacrilege were forthwith brought
to justice. They were condemned to be burned, and
their execution took place May 22nd, 1370. Three of the
wafers were restored to the clergy of St. Guduli,
where they have ever since remained as objects of
extreme veneration. On several occasions they have
good service to the inhabitants of Brussels, in the
way of stopping epidemics.
On being appealed to by a
solemn procession in 1529, a grievous epidemic at once
ceased. From 1579 to 1585, during certain political
troubles in the Netherlands, there were no processions
in their honour; and they were similarly neglected for
some years after the great revolution of 1789�92. But
since Sunday, July 14th, 1804, the annual procession has
been resumed, and the three wafers shewing the
miraculous marks of blood, have been exposed to the
adoration of the faithful in the church of St. Guduli.
It is added in the authoritative account, that certain
indulgences are granted by order of Pius VI. to all
who take part in the procession, and repeat daily
throughout the year, praises and thanks for the most
holy sacrament of the Miracles. In the openings of the
pillars along both sides of the choir of St. Guduli,
is suspended a series of Gobelin tapestries, vividly
representing the chief incidents in the history of the
Miracles, including the scene of stabbing the wafers.
BERTRAND DU GUESCLIN
This flower of French
chivalry was of a noble but poor family in Brittany.
'Never was there so bad a boy in the world,' said his
mother, 'he is always wounded, his face disfigured,
fighting or being fought; his father and I wish he
were peaceably underground.' All the masters engaged
to teach him, gave up the task in despair, and to the
end of his life he could neither read nor write. A
tourney was held one day at Rennes, to which his
father went; his son, then about fourteen, secretly
followed him, riding on a miserable pony: the first
knight who retired from the lists found the young hero
in his hostelry, who, throwing himself at his knees,
besought him to lend him his horse and arms. The
request was granted, and Du Guesclin, preparing in all
haste, flew to the combat, and overthrew fifteen
adversaries with such address and good grace as to
surprise all the spectators. His father presented
himself to run a course with him, but Bertrand threw
down his lance. When persuaded to raise his visor, the
paternal joy knew no bounds; he kissed him tenderly,
and henceforward took every means to insure his
advancement.
His first campaign with the
French army was made in 1359, where he gave full proof
of his rare valour, and from that time he was the
much-feared enemy of the English army, until taken
prisoner by the
Black Prince at the
battle of Navarete,
in Spain, in 1367. In spite of the repeated entreaties
of both French and English nobles, the prince kept him
more than a year at Bordeaux, until it was whispered
that he feared his rival too much to set him free.
Hearing this, Edward sent for Du Guesclin and said: 'Messire
Bertrand, they pretend that I dare not give you your
liberty, because I am afraid of your' 'There are those
who say so,' replied the knight, 'and I feel myself
much honoured by it.' The prince coloured, and desired
him to name his own ransom. 'A hundred thousand
florins,' was the reply. 'But where can you get so
much money?' 'The king of France and Castile, the
pope, and the Duke of Anjou will lend it to one, and
were I in my own country, the women would earn it with
their distaffs.'
All were charmed with his
frankness, and the Princess of Wales invited him to
dinner, and offered to pay twenty thousand francs
towards the ransom. Du Guesclin, kneeling before her,
said: 'Madame, I believed myself to be the ugliest
knight in the world, but now I need not be so
displeased with myself.' Many of the English forced
their purses on him, and he set off to raise the sum;
but on the way he gave with such profusion to the
soldiers he met that all disappeared. On reaching
home, he asked his wife for a hundred thousand francs
he had left with her, but she also had disposed of
them to needy soldiers; this her husband approved of,
and returning to the Duke of Anjou and the pope, he
received from them forty thousand francs, but on his
way to Bordeaux these were all disposed of, and the
Prince of Wales asking if he had brought the ransom,
he carelessly replied: 'That he had not a doubloon.'
'You do the magnificent!' said the prince. 'You give
to everybody, and have not what will support yourself;
you must go back to prison.' Du Guesclin withdrew, but
at the same time a gentleman arrived from the French
king prepared to pay the sum required.
He was raised to the highest
post in the kingdom, that of Conn�table de France, in
1370, amidst the acclamations and joy of the whole
nation; yet, strange to say, after all his services,
he lost the confidence of the king a few years after,
who listened to his traducers, and wrote a letter most
offensive to the hero's fidelity. Du Guesclin
immediately sent back the sword belonging to his
office of Conn�table; but the cry of the whole nation
was in his favour. The superiority of his military
talents, his generosity and modesty had extinguished
the feelings of jealousy which his promotion might
have created. Charles acknowledged that he had been
deceived, and sent the Dukes of Anjou and Bourbon to
restore the sword, and appoint him to the command of
the army in Auvergne, where his old enemies the
English were pillaging. He besieged the castle of
Randan, and was there attacked with mortal disease,
which he met with the intrepid firmness which
characterised him, and with the sincere piety of a
Christian. At the news of his death, the camp
resounded with groans, his enemies even paying homage
to his memory; for they had promised to surrender on a
certain day if not relieved, and the commander marched
out, followed by his garrison, and kneeling beside the
bier, laid the keys upon it.
The king ordered him to be
buried at St. Denis, at the foot of the mausoleum
prepared for himself. The funeral cortege passed
through France amidst the lamentations of the people,
followed by the princes of the blood, and crowds of
the nobility. This modest epitaph was placed on his
grave: 'Ici gist noble homme, Messire Bertrand du
Guesclin, Comte de Longueville et Conne'table de
France, qui tr�passa au Chastel neuf de Randall le
13me Jour de Juillet 1380. Priez Dieu pour lui.'
A very rare phenomenon was
seen after his death�the chief place in the state was
vacant, and no one would take it. The king offered it
to the Sire de Couci; he excused himself',
recommending Du Guesclin's brother-in-arms, De Clisson;
but he and Sancerre both declared that after the grand
deeds that had been wrought, they could not satisfy
the king, and it was only filled up at the beginning
of the following reign by Clisson accepting the
dignity.
RICHARD CROMWELL
This
day, 1712, died Richard
Cromwell, eldest son of Oliver, and who, for a short
time after his father (between September 3, 1658, and
May 25, 1659), was acknowledged Protector of these
realms. He had lived in peaceful obscurity for
fifty-three years after giving up the government, and
was ninety when he died.
The ex-Protector, Richard,
has usually been spoken of lightly for resigning
without any decisive effort to maintain himself in his
place; but, perhaps, it is rather to the credit of his
good sense, that he retired as he did, for the spirit
in which the restoration of Charles II was
soon after
effected, may be regarded as tolerable proof that any
obstinate attempt to keep up the Cromwellian rule,
would have been attended with great hazard. While it
never has been, and cannot be, pretended that Richard
was aught of a great man, one cannot but admit that
his perfect negativeness after the Restoration, had in
it something of dignity. That he could scarcely ever
be induced to speak of politics, was fitting in one
who had been at the summit of state, and found all
vanity and instability. There was, moreover, a
profound humour under his external negativeness. His
conduct in respect of the addresses which had come to
him during his short rule, was not that of a
common-place character. When obliged to leave
Whitehall, he carried these documents with him in a
large hair-covered trunk, of which he requested his
servants to take particular care.
Why so much care of an old
trunk?' inquired some one; 'what on earth is in it?'
'Nothing less,' quoth Richard,
'than the lives and fortunes of all the good people of
England.'
Long after, he kept up the same joke, and
even made it a standing subject of mirth among his
friends. Two new neighbours, being introduced to his
house, were very hospitably entertained in the usual
manner, along with some others, till the company
having become merry, Richard started up with a candle
in his hand, desiring all the rest to follow him. The
party proceeded with bottles and glasses in hand, to
the garret, where, somewhat to the surprise of the new
guests, who alone were uninitiated, the ex-Protector
pulled out an old hairy trunk to the middle of the
floor, and seating himself on it, proposed as a toast,
'Prosperity to Old England.' Each man in succession
seated himself on the trunk, and drank the toast; one
of the new guests coming last, to whom Mr. Cromwell
called out: 'Now, sit light, for you have the lives
and fortunes of all the good people of England under
you.' Finally, he explained the freak by taking out
the addresses, and reading some of them, amidst the
laughter of the company.
SUPERSTITIONS, SAYINGS, &c., CONCERNING DEATH
If a grave is open on Sunday,
there will be another dug in the week.
This I believe to be a very
narrowly limited superstition, as Sunday is generally
a favourite day for funerals among the poor. I have,
however, met with it in one parish, where Sunday
funerals are the exception, and I recollect one
instance in particular. A woman coming down from
church, and observing an open grave, remarked: 'Ah,
there will be some-body else wanting a grave before
the week is out!' Strangely enough (the population of
the place was then under a thousand), her words came
true, and the grave was dug for her.
If a corpse does not stiffen
after death, or if the rigor mortis disappears before
burial, it is a sign that there will be a death in the
family before the end of the year.
In the case of a child of my
own, every joint of the corpse was as flexible as in
life. I was perplexed at this, thinking that perhaps
the little fellow might, after all, be in a trance.
While I was considering the matter, I perceived a
bystander looking very grave, and evidently having
something on her mind. On asking her what she wished
to say, I received for answer that, though she did not
put any faith in it herself, yet people did say that
such a thing was the sign of another death in the
family within the twelve-month.
If every remnant of Christmas
decoration is not cleared out of church before
Candlemas-day
(the Purification, February 2), there will be a death
that year in the family occupying the pew where a leaf
or berry is left. An old lady (now dead) whom I
knew, was so persuaded of the truth of this
superstition, that she would not be contented to leave
the clearing of her pew to the constituted
authorities, but used to send her servant on Candlemas-eve
to see that her own seat at any rate was thoroughly
freed from danger.
Fires and candles also afford
presages of death. Coffins flying out of the former,
and winding-sheets guttering down from the latter. A
winding-sheet is produced from a candle, if, after it
has guttered, the strip, which has rum down, instead
of being absorbed into the general tallow, remains unmelted: if, under these
circumstances, it curls over
away from the flame, it is a presage of death to the
person in whose direction it points.
Coffins out of the fire are
hollow oblong cinders spirted from it, and are a sign
of a coming death in the family. I have seen cinders,
which have flown out of the fire, picked up and
examined to see what they presaged; for coffins are
not the only things that are thus produced. If the
cinder, instead of being oblong, is oval, it is a
cradle, and predicts the advent of a baby; while, if
it is round, it is a purse, and means prosperity.
The howling of a dog at night
under the window of a sick-room, is looked upon as a
warning of death's being near.
Perhaps there may be some
truth in this notion. Everybody knows the peculiar
odour which frequently precedes death, and it is
possible that the acute nose of the dog may perceive
this, and that it may render him uneasy: but the same
can hardly be alleged in favour of the notion, that
the screech of an owl flying past signifies the same,
for, if the owl did scent death, and was in hopes of
prey, it is not likely that it would screech, and so
give notice of its presence.
Suffolk. C. W. J.
THE HOT WEDNESDAY
OF 1808
Farmers, and others engaged in
outdoor pursuits, men of science, and others engaged
in observations on meteorological phenomena, have much
reason to doubt whether the reported temperatures of
past years are worthy of reliance. In looking through
the old journals and magazines, degrees of winter cold
and summer heat are found recorded, which, to say the
best of it, need to be received with much caution;
seeing that the sources of fallacy were numerous.
There was one particular Wednesday in 1808, for
instance, which was marked by so high a temperature, as
to obtain for itself the name of the 'Hot Wednesday;'
there is no doubt the heat was great, even if its
degree were overstated.
At Hayes, in Middlesex, two
thermometers, the one made by Ramsden, and the other
by Cary, were observed at noon, and were found to
record 90� F. in the shade. Men of middle age at that
time, called to mind the 'Hot Tuesday' of 1790, which,
however, was several degrees below the temperature of
this particular Wednesday. Remembering that the
average heat, winter and summer, of the West Indies,
is about 82�, it is not surprising that men fainted,
and horses and other animals died under the pressure
of a temperature so unusual in England as 8� above
this amount. In the shade, at an open window looking
into St. James's Park, a temperature of 94� was
observed. In a shop-window, on the shady side of the
Strand, a thermometer marked 101�; but this was under
the influence of conducted and radiant warmth from
surrounding objects.
At Gainsborough, in
Lincolnshire, two thermometers, made by Nairne and
Blunt respectively, hanging in the shade with a
northern aspect, marked 94� at one o'clock on the day
in question. In the corresponding month of 1825,
observers were surprised to find a temperature of 85�
marked in the quadrangle of the Royal Exchange at four
o'clock in the 19th, 86�� at one o'clock on the same
day, 87� at Paris, and 91� at Hull; but all these were
below the indications noticed, or alleged to be
noticed, in 1808.
It is now known, however,
better than it was in those days, that numerous
precautions are necessary to the obtainment of
reliable observations on temperature. The height from
the ground, the nature and state of the ground, the
direction in reference to the points of the compass,
the vicinity of other objects, the nature of those
objects as heat-reflectors, the covered or uncovered
state of the space overhead�all affect the degree to
which the mercury in the tube of a thermometer will be
expanded by heat: even if the graduation of the tube
be reliable, which is seldom the case, except in
high-priced instruments. On this account all the old
newspaper statements on such matters must be received
with caution, though there is no reason to doubt that
the Hot Wednesday of 1808 was really a very formidable
day.
