Born
:
Emperor Justinian, 482, Tauresiurn, in Bulgaria.
Died
: Paulus �milius, 1529, Paris; Samuel Cooper, 1672;
Stephen Morin, 1700, Amsterdam; John Pichon, 1751;
Thomas Davies (dramatic biography), 1785, London;
Pierre J. G. Cabanis, French materialist philosopher,
1808; Robert Mylne, architect, 1811;
Napoleon
Bonaparte, ex-Emperor of the French, 1821, St. Helena;
Rev. Dr. Lent Carpenter, theologian, 1840; Sir Robert
Harry Inglis, Bart., political character, 1855;
Charles Robert Leslie, American artist, 1859, London.
Feast Day: St. Hilary,
Archbishop of Arles, 449. St. Mauront, abbot, 706. St. Avertin, confessor, about
1189. St. Angelus, Carmelite
friar, martyr, 1225. St. Pius V, pope, 1572.
ASCENSION DAY (1864)
Ascension Day, or Holy
Thursday, is a festival observed by the Church of
England in commemoration of the glorious ascension of
the Messiah into heaven, 'triumphing over the devil,
and leading captivity captive;' opening the kingdom
of heaven to all believers.' It occurs forty days
after Easter Sunday, such being the number of days
which. the Saviour passed on earth after his
resurrection. The observance is thought to be one of
the very earliest in the church�so early, it has been
said, as the year 68.
WELL-DRESSING AT TISSINGTON
'Still, Dovedale, yield thy flowers to deck the
fountains
Of Tissington upon its holyday;
The customs long preserved among the mountains
Should not be lightly left to pass away.
They have their moral; and we often may
Learn from them how our wise forefathers wrought,
When they upon the public mind would lay
Some weighty principle, some maxim brought
Home to their hearts, the healthful product of deep
thought.'
Edwards.
Such was our feeling when our
kind landlady at Matlock reminded us that on the
following day, being Holy Thursday, or Ascension Day,
there would take place the very ancient and well
kept-up custom of dressing the wells of Tissington
with flowers. She recommended us on no account to miss
the opportunity, 'for the festivity draws together the
rich and poor for many miles round,' said she; 'and
the village looks so pretty you cannot but admire it.'
It was one of those lovely May mornings when we
started on our twelve miles drive which give you the
anticipation of enjoyment; the bright sun was shining
on the hills surrounding the romantically situated
village of Matlock, the trees were already decked with
the delicate spring tints of pale browns, olives, and
greens, which form even a more pleasing variety to the
artist' s eye than the gorgeous colours of the dying
autumn; whilst the air had the crispness of a sharp
frost, which had hardened the ground during the night,
making our horses step merrily along.
We were soon at Willersley,
with its woods and walks overhanging the Derwent, and
connected in its historical associations with two
remarkable but very different characters, having been
formerly a possession of the Earl of Shrewsbury, the
husband of that 'sharpe and bitter shrewe,' as the
Bishop of Lichfield calls her, who figured so
prominently in the reigns of Mary and Elizabeth.
Married no less than four times, she was the
ancestress of some of the most noble families in
England. At the early age of fourteen she became the
wife of Robert Barley, Esq., the union not lasting
much more than a year. Sir William Cavendish
then
aspired to her hand, by which the fine old seat and
lands of Hardwicke Hall, of which she was the heiress,
came into the Devonshire family. Sir William was a man
of eminent talent, and the zeal he displayed in the
cause of the Reformation recommended him highly to his
sovereign. He was better fitted to cope with his wife'
s masculine understanding and violent temper than her
last husband, the Earl of Shrewsbury, who gives vent
to some very undignified remonstrances in a letter to
the Earl of Leicester, dated 1585. The queen had, it
seems, taken the part of her own sex, and ordered the
earl an allowance of five hundred a-year, leaving all
the lands in the power of his wife:
'Sith that her majestie hathe
sett dowen this hard sentence againste me, to my
perpetual infamy and dishonour, to be ruled and
oberauue by my wief, so bad and wicked a woman; yet
her majestie shall see that I obey her commandemente,
thoughe no curse or plage in the erthe cold be more
grievous to me. It is to much to make me my wiefe' s
pencyoner, and sett me downe the demeanes of
Chatsworth, without the house and other landes
leased.'
From this time the pair lived
separate; whilst the restless mind of the countess
still pursued the political intrigues which had been
the terror of her husband, and the aggrandizement of
her family. She bought and sold estates, lent money,
farmed, and dealt in lead, coals, and timber,
patronized the wits of the day, who in return
flattered but never deceived her, and died at the
advanced age of eighty-seven, immensely rich, leaving
the character behind her of being 'a proud, furious,
selfish, and unfeeling woman.' She and the earl were
for some time the custodians of the unfortunate Mary
Queen of Scots, who passed a part of her imprisonment
at Chatsworth, and at the old Hall at Hardwicke, which
is now in ruins.
Very different from this has
been the career of the present proprietor of beautiful
Willersley, whose ancestor,
Richard Arkwright,
springing from a very humble origin, created his own
fortune, and provided employment for thousands of his
fellow-creatures by his improvements in cotton
spinning. A history so well known needs no farther
comment here, and we drive on through the Via Gellia,
with its picturesque rocks and springing vegetation,
gay with
'The primrose drop, the
spring's own spouse,
Bright daisies, and the lips-of-cows,
The garden star, the queen of May,
The rose, to crown the holyday.'
Jonson.
We cannot wonder that the
Romans dedicated this lovely season to Flora, whom
they depicted as strewing the earth with flowers,
attended by her spouse, Zephyr; and in honour of whom
they wove garlands of flowers, and carried branches of
the newly-budded trees. From the entire disappearance
of old customs, May comes upon us unwelcomed and
unnoticed. In the writer's child-hood a May-pole
carried about in the hand was common even in towns;
but now no children understand the pleasures of
collecting the way-side and garden flowers, and
weaving them into the magic circle. Still less
applicable are L. E. L.'s beautiful lines:
'Here the Maypole rears its
crest,
With the rose and hawthorn drest;
In the midst, like the young queen
Flower-crowned, of the rural green,
Is a bright-checked girl, her eye
Blue, like April's morning sky.
Farewell, cities ! who could bear
All their smoke and all their care,
All their pomp, when wooed away
By the azure hours of May?
Give me woodbine-scented bowers,
Blue wreaths of the violet flowers,
Clear sky, fresh air, sweet birds, and trees,
Sights and sounds, and scenes like these.'
We could not but notice, in
passing through the meadows near Brassington, those
singular limestone formations which crop out of the
ground in the most fantastic forms, resembling arrows
and spires, and which the people designate by various
names, such as Peter's Pike, Reynard's Tor. Then came
the village of Bradbourne, and the pretty
foot-bridge, close by the mill, crossing Bentley
Brook, a little stream mentioned by
Walton as 'full of
good trout and grayling.' This bridge is the direct
foot-road to Tissington, at which 'village of the holy
wells ' we soon arrived, and found it decked out in
all its bravery. It has in itself many points of
attraction independent of the ornaments of the day ;
the little stream that runs through the centre, the
rural-looking cottages and comfortable farmhouses, the
old church, which retains the traces of Saxon
architecture, and, lastly, the Hall, a fine old
edifice, belonging to the ancient family of the Fitzherberts, who reside there,
the back of which
comes to the village, the front looking into an
extensive, well-wooded park.
When we drove into the
village, though it was only ten o'clock, we found it
already full of people from many miles round, who had
assembled to celebrate the feast : for such indeed it
was, all the characteristics of a village wake being
there in the shape of booths, nuts, gingerbread, and
toys to delight the young. We went immediately to the
church, foreseeing the difficulty there would be in
getting a seat, nor were we mistaken; for, though we
were accommodated, numbers were obliged to remain
outside, and wait for the service peculiar to the
wells. The interior of the church is ornamented with
many monuments of the Fitzherbert family, and the
service was performed in rural style by a band of
violinists, who did their best to make melody. As soon
as the sermon was ended, the clergyman left the
pulpit, and marched at the head of the procession
which was formed into the village; after him came the
band; then the family from the hall, and their
visitors, the rest of the congregation following; and
a, halt was made at the first of the wells, which are
five in number, and which we will now attempt to
describe.
The name of 'well' scarcely
gives a proper idea of these beautiful structures:
they are rather fountains, or cascades, the water
descending from above, and not rising, as in a well.
Their height varies from ten to twelve feet; and the
original stone frontage is on this day hidden by a
wooden erection in the form of an arch, or some other
elegant design: over these planks a layer of plaster
of Paris is spread, and whilst it is wet, flowers
without leaves are stuck in it, forming a most
beautiful mosaic pattern. On one, the large yellow
field ranunculus was arranged in letters, and so
averse of scripture or of a hymn was recalled to the
spectator's mind; on another, a white dove was
sculptured in the plaster, and set in a groundwork of
the humble violet; the daisy, which our poet
Chaucer
would gaze upon for hours together, formed a diaper
work of red and white; the pale yellow primrose was
set off by the rich red of the ribes; nor were the
coral berries of the holly, mountain ash, and yew
forgotten; these are carefully gathered and stored in
the winter, to be ready for the May-day fete. It is
scarcely possible to describe the vivid colouring and
beautiful effect of these favourites of nature,
arranged in wreaths, and garlands, and devices of
every hue; and then the pure, sparkling water, which
pours down from the midst of them unto the rustic
moss-grown stones beneath, completes the enchantment,
and makes this feast of the well-flowering one of the
most beautiful of all the old customs that are left in
'merrie England.'
The groups of visitors and
country people, dressed in their holiday clothes,
stood reverently round, whilst the clergyman read the
first of the three psalms appointed for the day, and
then gave out one of Bishop Heber's beautiful hymns,
in which all joined with heart and voice. When this
was over, all moved forwards to the next well, where
the next psalm was read and another hymn sung; the
epistle and gospel being read at the last two wells.
The service was now over, and the people dispersed to
wander through the village or park, which is thrown
open; the cottagers vie with each other in showing
hospitality to the strangers, and many kettles are
boiled at their fires for those who have brought the
materials for a picnic on the green. It is welcomed
as a season of mirth and good fellowship, many old
friends meeting then to separate for another year,
should they be spared to see the well-dressing again;
whilst the young people enjoy their games and country
pastimes with their usual vivacity.
The origin of this custom of
dressing the wells is by some persons supposed
to be
owing to a fearful drought which visited Derbyshire in
1615, and which is thus recorded in the parish
registers of Youlgrave:
'There was no rayne fell upon
the earth from the 25th day of March till the 2nd day
of May, and then there was but one shower; two more
fell betweene then and the 4th day of August, so that
the greatest part of this land were burnt upp, bothe
corn and hay. An ordinary load of hay was at �2, and
little or none to be gotte for money.'
The wells of Tissington were flowing during all this time,
and the
people for ten miles round drove their cattle to drink
at them; and a thanksgiving service was appointed
yearly for Ascension Day.
But we must refer the origin
much further back, to the ages of superstition, when
the pastimes of the people were all out-of-doors, and
when the wakes and daytime dances were on the village
green instead of in the close ball-room; it is
certainly a 'popish relic,' �perhaps a relic of pagan
Rome. Fountains and wells were ever the objects of
their adoration. 'Where a spring rises or a river
flows,' says Seneca, 'there should we build altars and
offer sacrifices;' they held yearly festivals in their honour, and peopled them
with the elegant forms of the
nymphs and presiding goddesses. In later times holy
wells were held in the highest estimation: Edgar and Canute were obliged to
issue edicts prohibiting their
worship. Nor is this surprising, their very appearance
being symbolic of loveliness and purity.
The weary and
thirsty traveller gratefully hails the 'diamond of
the desert,' whether it be in the arid plains of the
East, or in the cooler shades of an English landscape.
May was always considered the favourable month for
visiting the wells which possessed a charm for curing
sick people; but a strict silence was to be preserved
both in going and coming back, and the vessel in which
the water was carried was not to touch the ground.
After the Reformation these customs were strictly
forbidden, as superstitious and idolatrous, the cures
which were wrought being doubtless owing to the fresh
air, and what in these days we should call hydropathic
remedies.
In consequence of this
questionable origin, whether Pagan or Popish, we have
heard some good but straitlaced people in Derbyshire
condemn the well-dressing greatly, and express their
astonishment that so many should give it their
countenance, by assembling at Tissington; but,
considering that no superstition is now connected with
it, and that the meeting gives unusual pleasure to
many, we must decline to agree with them, and hope
that the taste of the well-dressers may long meet with
the reward of an admiring company.
ROBERT MYLNE
Mr. Mylne, the architect of
Blackfriars Bridge in London, had aimed at perfecting
himself in his profession by travel, by study, and a
careful experience. His temper is said to have been
rather peculiar, but his integrity and high sense of
duty were universally acknowledged. He was born in
Edinburgh in 1733, the son of one respectable
architect, and nephew of another, who constructed the
North Bridge in that city. The father and grandfather
of his father were of the same profession; the latter
(also named Robert) being the builder of Holyrood
Palace in its present form, and of most of the fine,
tall, ashlar-fronted houses which still give such a
grandeur to the High-street.
Considering that the son
and grandson of the architect of Blackfriars Bridge
have also been devoted to this profession, we may be
said to have here a remarkable example of the
perseverance of certain artistic faculties in one
family; yet the whole case in this respect has not
been stated. In the Greyfriars churchyard, in
Edinburgh, there is a handsome monument, which the
palace builder reared over his uncle, John Mylne, who
died in 1667, in the highest reputation as an
architect, and who was described in the epitaph as the
last of six generations, who had all been
'master-masons' to the kings of Scotland. It cannot be
shown that this statement is true, though it may be
so; but it can be pretty clearly proved that there
were at least three generations of architects before
the one we have called the palace builder; exhibiting,
even on this restricted ground, an example of
persistent special talents in hereditary descent such
as is probably unexampled in any age or country.
OPENING OF THE STATES-GENERAL
OF FRANCE, 1789
This event, so momentous in
its consequences as to make it an era in the history
of the world, took place at Versailles on the 5th of
May, 1789. The first sitting was opened in the Salle
de Menus. Nothing could be more imposing than the
spectacle that presented itself. The deputies were
introduced according to the order and etiquette
established in 1614. The clergy, in cassocks, large
cloaks, and square caps, or in violet robes and lawn
sleeves, were placed on the right of the throne; the
nobles, covered with cloth of gold and lace, were
conducted to the left; whilst the commons, or tiers etat, were ranged in front,
at the end of the hall.
The galleries were filled with spectators, who marked
with applause those of the deputies who were known to
have been favourable to the convention. When the
deputies and ministers had taken their places, Louis
XVI arrived, followed by the queen, the princes, and
a brilliant suite, and was greeted with loud applause.
His speech from the throne was listened to with.
profound attention, and closed with these words:
'All
that can be expected from the dearest interest in the
public welfare, all that can be required of a
sovereign the first friend of his people, you may and
ought to hope from my sentiments. That a happy spirit
of union may pervade this assembly, and that this may
be an ever-memorable epoch for the happiness and
prosperity of the kingdom, is the wish of my heart,
the most ardent of my desires; it is, in a word, the
reward which I expect for the uprightness of my
intentions, and my love of my subjects.'
He was
followed by Barentin, keeper of the seals, and then by
Necker; but neither the king nor his ministers
understood the importance of the crisis. A thousand
pens have told how their anticipations of a happy
issue were frustrated.
WHIPPING VAGRANTS
Three centuries ago, the
flagellation of vagrants and similar characters for
slight offences was carried to a cruel extent. Owing
to the dissolution of the monasteries, where the poor
had chiefly found relief, a vast number of infirm and
unemployed persons were suddenly thrown on the country
without any legitimate means of support. These
destitute persons were naturally led to wander from
place to place, seeking a subsistence from the casual
alms of any benevolent persons they might chance to
meet. Their roving and precarious life soon produced
its natural fruits, and these again produced severe
measures of repression. By an act passed in 22 Henry
VIII, vagrants were to be 'carried to some market
town or other place, and there tied to the end of a
cart naked, and beaten with whips throughout such
market town or other place, till the body should be
bloody by reason of such whipping.'
The punishment was afterwards
slightly mitigated; for by a statute passed in the
39th of Elizabeth�s reign, vagrants were only to be
stripped naked from the middle upwards, and whipped
till the body should be bloody.', Still vagrancy not
only continued, but increased, so that several benches
of magistrates issued special orders for the
apprehension and punishment of vagrants found in their
respective districts. Thus, in. the quarter sessions
at Wycomb, in Bucks, held on the 5th of May, 1698, an
order was passed directing all constables and other
parish officers to search for vagrants, &c.; 'and all
such persons which they shall apprehend in any such
search, or shall take begging, wandering, or misconducting themselves, the said
constables, headboroughs, or tything-men, being assisted with some
of the other parishioners, shall cause to be whipped
naked from the middle upwards, and be openly whipped
till the bodies shall be bloody.' This order appears
to have been carried into immediate execution, not
only within the magisterial jurisdiction of Wycomb,
but throughout the county of Buckingham; and lists of
the persons whipped were kept in the several parishes,
either In the church registers, or in some other
parish book. In the book kept in the parish of
Lavenden, the record is sufficiently explicit.
For example, 'Eliz. Roberts,
lately the wife of John Roberts, a tallow-chandler in
ye Strand, in Hungerford Market, in ye County of
Middlesex, of a middle stature, brown-haired, and
black-eyed, aged about � years, was whipped and sent
to St. Martin's-in-the-Field, in London, where she was
born. 'At Burnham, in the same county, there is in the
church register a long list of persons who have been
whipped, from which the following specimens are taken�
'Benjamin Smat, and his wife and three children,
vagrant beggars; he of middle stature, but one eye,
was this 28th day of September 1699, with his wife and
children, openly whipped at Boveney, in the parish of
Burnham, in the county of Buck., according to ye laws.
And they are assigned to pass forth-with from parish
to parish by ye officers thereof the next directway to
the parish of St. [Se]pulchers Loud., where they say
they last inhabited three years. And they are Emitted
to be at St. [Se] pulch. within ten days next ensuing.
Given under our hands and seals. Will. Glover, Vicar
of Burn-ham, and John Hunt, Constable of Boveney.' The
majority of those in this list were females�as 'Eliz.
Collins, a mayd pretty tall of stature;' 'Anne Smith,
a vagrant beggar about fifteen years old;' 'Mary Web,
a child about thirteen years of age, a wandering
beggar;' 'Isabel Harris, a widd. about sixty years of
age, and her daughter, Eliz. Harris, with one child.'
Thus it appears that this degrading punishment was
publicly inflicted on females without regard to their
tender or advanced age. It is, however, only fair to
mention, as a redeeming point in the parish officers
of Burnham, that they sometimes recommended the poor
women whom they had whipped to the tender mercies of
the authorities of other parishes through which the
poor sufferers had to pass.
The nature of these
recommendations may be seen from copies of those still
remaining in the register, one of which, after the
common pre-amble, 'To all constables, headboroughs,
and tything-men, to whom these presents shall come,'
desires them 'to be as charitable as the law in such
cases allows, to the bearer and her two children.
'Cruelty in the first instance, and a re-commendation
of benevolence to others in the second, looks like an
improved reading of Sidney Smith's celebrated formula�
'A. never sees B. in distress but he wishes C. to go
and relieve him.
The law of whipping vagrants
was enforced in other counties much in the same manner
as in Buckinghamshire.
The following curious items
are from the constable's accounts at Great Staughton,
Huntingdonshire:
169 0/1 Pd. in charges,
taking up a distracted
woman, watching
her, and whipping
her next day
.
. .
. . 0 8 6
171 0/1 Spent on nurse London for searching
the woman to see
if
she was with child
before she was
whipped, 3 of them . 0 2 0
Pd. Tho. Hawkins
for whipping2people
yt had the
small-pox
.
. . 0 0 8
171 4/5 Paid for watching, victuals and drink,
for Ma.
Mitchell
. .
. 00 02 06
Pd. for whipping
her
.
. 00 00 04
171 Pd. for whipping
Goody Barry .
00 00 04
'Men and women were whipped
promiscuously at Worcester till the close of the last
century, as may be seen by the corporation records.
Male and female rogues were whipped at a charge of 4d.
each for the whip's-man. In 1680 there is a charge of
4d. "for whipping a wench." In 1742, 1s.
"for whipping John Williams, and exposing Joyce
Powell." In 1759, "for whipping Elizabeth Bradbury,
2s. 6d." probably including the cost of the
hire of the cart, which was usually charged 1s. 6d.
separately.'
Whipping, however, was not
always executed at the 'cart's tail.' It was, indeed,
so ordered in the statute of Henry V III; but by that
passed in the 39th of Elizabeth it was not required,
and about this time (1596), whipping-posts came into
use. When the writings of John Taylor, 'the
water-poet,' were published (1630), they appear to
have been plentiful, for he says
'In London, and within a
mile I ween,
There are of jails or prisons full eighteen;
And sixty whipping-posts, and stocks and
cages.'
And in Hudibras we read
of
'An old dull sot, who toll'd
the clock
For many years at Bridewell-dock;
* *
* *
*
Engaged the constable to seize
All those that would not break the peace;
Let out the stocks, and whipping post,
And cage, to those that gave him most.'
On May 5th, 1713, the
corporation of Doncaster ordered 'a whipping-post to
be set up at the stocks at Butcher Cross, for
punishing vagrants and sturdy beggars.' The stocks
were often so constructed as to serve both for stocks
and whipping-post. The posts which supported the
stocks being made sufficiently high, were furnished
near the top with iron clasps to fasten round the
wrists of the offender, and hold him securely during
the infliction of the punishment. Sometimes a single
post was made to serve both purposes; clasps being
provided near the top for the wrists, when used as a
whipping-post, and similar clasps below for the ankles
when used as stocks, in which case the culprit sat on
a bench behind the post, so that his legs when
fastened to the post were in a horizontal position.
Stocks and whipping-posts of
this description still exist in many places, and
persons are still living who have been subjected to
both kinds of punishment for which they were designed.
Latterly, under the influence, we may suppose, of
growing humanity, the whipping part of the apparatus
was dispensed with, and the stocks left alone. The
weary knife-grinder of Canning, we may remember, only
talks of being put in the stocks for a vagrant.
The
stocks was a simple arrangement for exposing a culprit
on a bench, confined by having his ankles laid fast in
holes under a movable board. Each parish had one,
usually close to the churchyard, but sometimes in more
solitary places.
There is an amusing story told of
Lord Camden, when a barrister, having been fastened up
in the stocks on the top of a hill, in order to
gratify an idle curiosity on the subject. Being left
there by the absent-minded friend who had locked him
in, he found it impossible to procure his liberation
for the greater part of a day. On his entreating a
chance traveller to release him, the man shook his
head, and passed on, remarking that of course he was
not put there for nothing. Now-a-days, the stocks are
in most places removed as an unpopular object; or we
see little more than a stump of them left. The
whipping of female vagrants was expressly forbidden by
a statute of 1791.
OATMEAL�ITS FORMER USE IN
ENGLAND
Edward Richardson, owner of an
estate in the township of Bice, Lancashire, directed,
in 1784, that for fifty years after his death there
should be, on Ascension Day, a distribution of oatmeal
amongst the poor in his neighbourhood, three loads to
Ince, one to Abram, and another to Hindley.
The sarcastic definition of
oats by Johnson, in his Dictionary�'A grain which in
England is generally given to horses, but in Scotland
supports the people,' has been the subject of much
remark. It is, however, worthy of notice that, when
the great lexicographer launched this sneer at
Caledonia, England herself was not a century advanced
from a very popular use of oatmeal. Markham, in his
English Housewife, 1653, speaks of oatmeal as a viand
in regular family use in England. After giving
directions how it should be prepared, he says the uses
and virtues of the several kinds are beyond all
reckoning. There is, first, the small ground meal,
used in thickening pottage of meat or of milk, as well
as both thick and thin gruel, 'of whose goodness it is
needless to speak, in that it is frequent with every
experience.' Then there are oat-cakes, thick and thin,
'very pleasant in taste, and much esteemed.' And the
same meal may be mixed with blood, and the liver of
sheep, calf, or pig; thus making 'that pudding which
is called haggas, or haggus, of whose goodness it is
in vain to boast, because there is hardly to be found
a man that does not affect them.'
It is certainly somewhat
surprising thus to find that the haggis of Scotland,
which is understood now-a-days to be barely compatible
with an Englishman remaining at table, was a dish
which nearly every man in England affected in the time
of the Commonwealth. More than this, Markham goes on
to describe a food called wash-brew, made of the very
small oatmeal by frequent steeping of it, and then
boiling it into a jelly, to be eaten with honey, wine,
milk, or ale, according to taste. 'I have,' says he,
'seen them of sickly and dainty stomachs which have
eaten great quantities thereof, beyond the proportion
of ordinary meats.' The Scotsman can be at no loss to recognise, in this
description, the sowens of his
native land, a dish formerly prevalent among the
peasantry, but now comparatively little known.
To
illustrate Markham's remark as to the quantity of this
mess which could be eaten, the writer may adduce a
fact related to him by his grandmother, who was the
wife of an extensive store-farmer in Peeblesshire,
from 1768 to 1780. A new plough-man had been hired for
the farm. On the first evening, coming home just after
the sowens had been prepared, but when no person was
present in the kitchen, he began with one of the cogs
or bowls, went on to another, and in a little time had
despatched the very last of the series; after which.
he coolly remarked to the maid, at that moment
entering the house, 'Lass, I wish you would tomorrow
night make my sowens all in one dish, and not in
drippocks and drappocks that way!'
LESLIE, CHANTREY, AND SANCHO
PANZA
Leslie, the graceful and
genial painter, whose death created a void in many a
social circle, is chiefly associated in the minds of
the public with two charming pictures�'Uncle Toby and
the Widow,' and 'Sancho Panza and the Duchess;'
pictures which he copied over and over again, with
slight alterations�so many were the persons desirous
of possessing then. A curious anecdote is told
concerning the latter of the two pictures. When Leslie
was planning the treatment of his subject, Chantrey,
the sculptor, happened to come in. Chantrey had a
hearty, jovial countenance, and a disposition to
match. While in lively conversation, he put his finger
to his nose in a comical sort of way, and Leslie
directly cried out, 'That is just the thing for Sancho
Panza,' or something to that effect. He begged
Chantrey to maintain the attitude while he fixed it
upon his canvas; the sculptor was a man of too much
sterling sense to be fidgeted at such an idea; he
complied, and the Sancho Panza of Leslie's admirable
picture is indebted for much of its striking effect to
Chantrey's portraiture. There has, perhaps, never been
a story more pleasantly told by a modern artist than
this�the half-shrewd, half -obtuse expression of the
immortal Sancho; the sweet half-smile, tempered by
high-bred courtesy, of the duchess; the sour and stern
duenna, Dona Rodriguez; and the mirthful whispering of
the ladies in waiting all form a scene which Cervantes
himself might have admired. Leslie painted the
original for the Petworth collection; then a copy for
Mr. Rogers; then another for Mr. Vernon; and then a
fourth for an American collection. But these were none
of them mere copies; Leslie threw original dashes of
genius and humour into each of them, retaining only
the main characteristics of the original picture.
A POETICAL WILL
The will of John Hedges,
expressed in the following quaint style, was proved on
the 5th of July, 1737:
This fifth day of May,
Being airy and gay,
To hip not inclined,
But of vigorous mind,
And my body in health,
I'll dispose of my wealth;
And of all I'm to have
On this side of the grave
To some one or other,
I think to my brother.
But because I foresaw
That my brothers-in-law,
If I did not take care,
Would come in for a share,
Which I noways intended,
Till their manners were mended
And of that there's no sign
I do therefore enjoin,
And strictly command,
As witness my hand,
That naught I have got
Be brought to botch-pot;
And I give and devise,
Much as in me lies,
To the son of my mother,
My own dear brother,
To have and to hold
All my silver and gold,
As th' affectionate pledges
Of his brother,
JOHN HEDGES.'
May 6th
