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November 24th
Born:
Laurence Sterne,
sentimental writer and novelist, 1713, Clonmel; John
Bacon, sculptor, 1740, Southwark;
Grace Darling,
Northumbrian heroine, 1815, Bamborough.
Died:
John Knox, Scottish Reformer, 1572,
Edinburgh; William Sancroft, archbishop of Canterbury,
leader of the seven prelates in their celebrated
petition to James II, 1693, Fresingfield, Suffolk; Dr.
Robert Henry, historian, 1790, Edinburgh; William
Lamb, Viscount Melbourne, statesman, 1848, Melbourne
House, Derbyshire; Rev. Dr. George Croly, poet, and
romance writer, 1860, London.
Feast Day:
St. Chrysogonus, martyr, beginning of
4th century. St. Cianan or Kenan, bishop of Duleek, in
Irelanal, 489. Saints Flora and Mary, virgins and
martyrs, 851. St. John of the Cross, confessor, 1591.
THE CIRCE OF CARLISLE HOUSE, SOHO SQUARE
In the bankrupt list of The London Gazette for
November 1772, the attention of the public was called,
somewhat significantly, to 'Teresa Cornelys, Carlisle
House, St. Ann, Soho, dealer.' It will not be
uninteresting to the reader to have some account of
the nature of Teresa Cornelys's dealings.
This lady, by birth a German, and during many years
a public singer in Italy and Germany, settled in
London somewhere about the year 1756 or 1757: and for
twenty years after that time she entertained the
public, 'the votaries of fashion of both sexes,' with
a series of entertainments, masked balls, and the
like, at once fascinating and elegant. These
entertainments were held in the suitable mansion of
Carlisle House, Soho Square, and figure largely in
contemporary papers.
The first printed document referring to Mrs.
Cornelys, convinces us at once that she must have been
a woman of tact. The date of it is, February 18, 1763:
'On Saturday last, Mrs. Cornelys gave a ball at
Carlisle House, to the upper servants of persons of
fashion, as a token of the sense she has [did not Circe
herself insert this little notice?] of her obligations
to the nobility and gentry, for their generous
subscription to her assembly. The company consisted of
220 persons, who made up fourscore couple in country
dances; and as scarce anybody was idle on this
occasion, the rest sat down to cards.'
The nobility and gentry who patronised Carlisle
House, did so by paying an annual subscription, in
consideration of which they received a ticket, which
gave them the run of all that was there, whether it
were 'a ball, or a masked ball, or a grand concert of
vocal and instrumental music.' Also, it appears, they
had the privilege of lending these tickets to friends
a great convenience provided they wrote the name of
the person upon the back of the said ticket, to whom
they have lent it; [here the English is again a little
Germanized], 'to prevent any mistake.' No doubt single
tickets for particular evenings, and the special
benefit of non subscribers, were to be had.
Notwithstanding her great success, for it seems to
have been by no means inconsiderable, Mrs. Cornelys
had her troubles. It was natural that competition
should originate opposition establishments. But on her
part the best of feeling is always to be premised.
'Whereas it has been industriously reported, to the
disadvantage of Mrs. Cornelys, that she has expressed
herself dissatisfied with a subscription now on foot,
to build a large room in opposition to hers; she
esteems it her duty, in this public manner, to declare
that she never once entertained a thought so unjust
and unreasonable. Nay, so satisfied is she with
matters in general, that her longing for fatherland is
perceptibly on the decline. She humbly hopes she has
not been wanting in duty and gratitude to her
protectors, and cannot sufficiently be thankful for
the comfort she enjoys in this happy country, which
she hopes never to leave.'
Mrs. Cornelys seems to have spared no money or pains
to have everything in keeping with the tastes of her
illustrious friends. The expense of the 'alterations
and additions to Carlisle House in Soho Square', and of
the 'new embellishments and furniture', amounted for the
year 1765, alone to 'little less than �2000', and made
that house, in the news writer's opinion, 'the most
magnificent place of public entertainment in Europe.
To one of the rooms we find added, 'the most curious,
singular, and superb ceiling that ever was executed or
even thought of:' and to obviate certain 'complaints of
excessive heat', she arranged to have 'tea below stairs
and ventilators above', and succeeded so admirably,
that subscribers were no longer subjected to 'the least
danger of catching cold'. To relieve the press of the
distinguished crowd, in its entrance and exit, she
provided an additional door, and also a new gallery
for the dancing of cotillons and allemandes, and a
suite of new rooms adjoining; in consequence of which
she was most reluctantly compelled to charge
subscribers an additional guinea.
On February 27, 1770, Mrs. Cornelys's continued
efforts were rewarded with a most magnificent
masquerade.
First, as to the numbers who attended:
'Monday night
the principal nobility and gentry of this kingdom, to
the number of near eight hundred, were present at the
masked ball, at Mrs. Cornelys's, in Soho Square.'
Next, as to the stir it made in the neighbourhood:
'Soho Square and the adjacent streets were lined with
thousands of people, whose curiosity led them to get a
sight of the persons going to the masquerade; or was
any coach or chair suffered to pass unreviewed, the
windows being obliged to be let down, and lights held
up to display the figures to more advantage.'
One does not wonder at the anxiety of the rabble to
see all that was to be seen, for:
'the richness and
brilliancy of the dresses, we are told, were almost
beyond imagination; or did any assembly ever exhibit a
collection of more elegant and beautiful female
figures.'
And now for the company. The reader may form a
faint idea:
'Among them were Lady Waldegrave, Lady
Pembroke, the Duchess of Hamilton, Mrs. Crewe, Mrs.
Hodges, Lady Almeria Carpenter, &c.
The characters assumed by the company were
extremely various. Sir R. Phillips appeared as 'a
double man, half miller, half chimney sweeper.' There
was also a figure of Adam in flesh coloured silk, with
an apron of fig Leaves, who, in spite of the fig
leaves, must have seemed rather out of keeping. The
Earl of Carlisle figured as a running footman; Mr.
James, the painter, as Midas. The Duke of Devonshire
was 'very fine, but in no particular character'. And
Lord Edg---b, in the character of an old woman, was
full as lovely as his lady.
But the ladies were net to be outdone on this
festive occasion. 'The Countess Dowager of Waldegrave
wore a dress richly trimmed with beads and pearls, in
the character of' - we are sorry to observe it 'Jane
Shore'. Many indulged a classical fancy. 'The Duchess of
Bolton, in the character of Diana, was captivating'.
'Lady Stanhope, as Melpomene, was a striking fine
figure'. 'Lady Augustus Stuart, as a Vestal, and Lady
Caroline, as a Fille de Patmos, showed that true
elegance may be expressed without gold and diamonds'.
Others took a more modern turn. 'The Countess of Pomfret, in the character of a
Greek sultana, and the
two Miss Fredericks, who accompanied her, as Greek
slaves, made a complete group; and to eclipse all,
Miss Monckton, daughter to Lord Galway, appeared in
the character of an Indian sultana, in a robe of cloth
of gold, and a rich veil. The seams of her habit were
embroidered with precious stones, and she had a
magnificent cluster of diamonds on her head: the
jewels she wore were valued at �30,000.'
But all these brilliant achievements, it seems,
were to have an end. The opening of the Pantheon
shattered Mrs. Cornelys to some extent. Then,
unfortunately, there were certain 'Bills of
Indictment' preferred to the Grand Jury. These
indictments insinuated of Mrs. Cornelys, 'that she does
keep and maintain a common disorderly house, and did
permit and suffer divers loose, idle, and disorderly
persons, as well men as women, to be and remain during
the whole night, rioting and other-wise misbehaving
themselves.'
Upon this the obility and gentry, we presume, to be
on the safe side of rumour, transferred their
patronage mostly to the Pantheon. For in July 1772,
'the creditors of Mrs. Cornelys, of Carlisle House,
Soho Square, were most earnestly requested to deliver
forthwith a particular account of their several and
respective demands on the said Mrs. Cornelys, to Mr.
Hickey, in St. Albans's Street. And at last our little
register, from the London Gazette, of Teresa Cornelys,
Carlisle House, St. Ann, Soho, dealer, closes the
scene.
We hear a great deal more of Carlisle House, and
the desperate struggle which it made, apparently with
not much success, to regain its position; but it is
enough. Mrs. Cornelys ultimately retired into private
life, and died at a very advanced age, August 19,
1797, in the
Fleet Prison.
MERMAIDS
Mermaids have had a legendary existence from very
early ages; for the Syron of the ancients evidently
belomged to the same remarkable family. Mermen and
mermaids and men of the sea, and women of the sea have
been as stoutly believed in as the great sea serpent,
and on very much the same kind of evidence. Sometimes,
as expressed in Haydn's Mermaid's Song, there is a
delightful bit of romance connected with the matter:
as where the mermaid offers the tempting invitation:
'Come with me, and we will go
Where the rocks of
coral grow.'
But the romance is somewhat damped when the
decidedly fishy tail is described. The orthodox
mermaid is half woman, half fish; and the fishy half
is sometimes depicted as being doubly tailed. The
heraldry of France and Germany often exhibits mermaids
with two tails among the devices; and in the Basle
edition of Ptolemy's Geography, dated 1540, a double
tailed mermaid figures on one of the plates.
Shakspeare makes many of his characters talk about
mermaids. Thus, in the Comedy of Errors,
Antipholus of Syracuse says:
'Oh, train me not, sweet mermaid, with the note!'
And in aother place:
'I'll stop mine ears against the mermaid's song.'
In the Midsummer Night's Dream, Oberon says:
'I heard a mermaid on a dolphin's back.'
In Hamlet, the queen, speaking of Ophelia's death, says:
'Her clothes spread wide; and mermaid like,
Awhile they bare her up.'
In two other passages, he makes his characters say:
'I'll drown more sailors than the mermaids
shall.'
And:
'At the helm a seeming mermaid steers.'
But in all these cases Shakspeare, as was his wont,
made his characters say what they were likely to
think, in their several positions and periods of life.
Notices of mermaids are scattered abundantly in
books of bygone times; sometimes in much detail,
sometimes in a few vague words. In Merollo's Voyage to
Congo, in 1682, mermaids are said to be very plentiful
all along the river Zaire. A writer in Notes and
Queries, in November 1858, lighted upon an old Scotch
almanac, called the Aberdeen Almanac, or New
Prognostications for the Year 1688; in which the
following curious passage occurs:
'To conclude for this
year 1688. Near the place where the famous Dee payeth
his tribute to the German Ocean, if curious observers
of wonderful things in nature will be pleased thither
to resort the 1, 13, and 29 of May, and in divers
other times in the ensuing summer, as also in the
harvest time, to the 7 and 14 October, they will
undoubtedly see a pretty company of MARMAIDS,
creatures of admirable beauty, and likewise hear their
charming sweet melodious voices:
"In well tun'd measures and harmonious lays,
Extol their Maker and his bounty praise;
That godly honest men, in everything,
In quiet peace may live, GOD SAVE THE KING!"
The piety and loyalty of these predicted mermaids
are certainly remarkable characteristics. In another
part of Scotland, about the same period, a real
mermaid was seen, if we are to believe Brand's
Description of Orkney and Shetland, published in
1701. Two fishermen drew up with a hook a mermaid,
having face, arms, breast, shoulders, &c., of a woman,
and long hair hanging down the neck; but the nether
part from below the waist hidden in the water. One of
the fishermen, in his surprise, drew a knife and
thrust it into her heart; where upon she cried, as
they judged, "Alas!" and the hook giving way, she fell
backwards, and was seen no more. In this case the
evidence went thus Brand was told by a lady and
gentleman, who were told by a bailie to whom the
fishing boat belonged, who was told by the fishers;
and thus we may infer as we please concerning the
growth of the story as it travelled.
In 1775, there was a very circumstantial account
given of a mermaid, which was captured in the Grecian
Archipelago, in the preceding year, and exhibited in
London. It has, as the Annual Reviewer of that day
said, the features and complexion of a European. Its
face is like that of a young female; its eyes of a
fine light blue; its nose small and handsome; its
mouth small; its lips thin, and the edges of them
round like those of a codfish; its teeth small,
regular, and white; its chin well shaped; its neck
full; its ears like those of the eel, but placed like
those of the human species; and behind them are the
gills for respiration, which appear like curls.
Some
(mermaids) are said to have hair upon the head; but
this has none, only rolls instead of hair, that at a
distance may be mistaken for curls. But its chief
ornament is a beautiful membrane or fin, rising from
the temples, and gradually diminishing till it ends pyramidically, forming a
foretop like that of a lady's
headdress. It has no fin on the back, but a bone like
that of the human species. Its breasts are fair and
full, but without nipples; its arms and hands are well
proportioned, but without nails on its fingers; its
belly is round and swelling, but no navel. From the
waist downwards, the body is in all respects like a
codfish. It has three sets of fins, one above another,
below the waist, which enables it to swim out upon the
sea; and it is said to have an enchanting voice, which
it never exerts except before a storm: Here there is
no great intricacy of evidence, for a writer in the
Gentlemen's Magazine also said he saw this particular
mermaid which, however, he described as being only
three feet long, tail and all. But a sad blow was
afterwards given to its reputation, by a statement
that it was craftily made up out of the skin of the
angle shark.
In Mrs. Morgan's Tour to Milford Haven in the Year
1795, there is an equally circumstantial account of a
mermaid observed by one Henry Reynolds, in 1782.
Reynolds was a farmer of Pen-y-hold, in the parish of
Castlemartin. One morning, just outside the cliff, he
saw what seemed to him a person bathing, with the
upper part of the body out of the water. Going a
little nearer, to see who was bathing in so unusual a
place, it seemed to him like a person sitting in a
tub. Going nearer still, he found it to resemble a
youth of sixteen or eighteen years of age, with a very
white skin. The continuation of the body below the
water, seemed to he a brownish substance, ending with
a tail, which seemed capable of waving to and fro. The
form of its body and arms was entirely human; but its
arms and hands seemed rather thick and short in
proportion to its body. The form of the head and all
the features of the face were human also; but the nose
rose high between the eyes, was pretty long, and
seemed to terminate very sharp. Some peculiarities
about the neck and hack are then noticed, as also its
way of washing its body.
It looked attentively at him and at the cliffs, and
seemed to take great notice of the birds flying over
its head. Its looks were wild and fierce; but it made
no noise, or did it grin, or in any way distort its
face. When he left it, it was about a hundred yards
from him; and when he returned with some others to
look at it, it was gone. We hear nothing further of
this merman or merboy; but on looking at the
roundabout evidence of the story, we find it to he
thus A paper containing the account was lent to Mrs.
Morgan; the paper had been written by a young lady,
pupil of Mrs. Moore, from an oral account given to her
by that lady; Mrs. Moore had heard it from Dr. George
Phillips; and he had heard it from Henry Reynolds
himself from all of which statements we may infer that
there were abundant means for converting some peculiar
kind of fish into a merman without imputing
intentional dishonesty to any one.
Something akin to this kind of evidence is
observable in the account of a mermaid seen in
Caithness in 1809, the account of which attracted much
attention in England as well as in Scotland, and
induced the Philosophical Society of Glasgow to
investigate the matter. The editor of a newspaper who
inserted the statement had been told by a gentleman,
who had been shown a letter by Sir John Sinclair, who
had obtained it from Mrs. Innes, to whom it had been
written by Miss Mackay, who had heard the story from
the persons (two servant girls and a boy) who had seen
the strange animal in the water.
So it is with all these stories of mermaids when
investigated. There is always a fish at the bottom of
it either a living fish of peculiar kind, which an
ignorant person thinks bears some resemblance to a
human being; or a fish which becomes marvellous in the
progress of its description from mouth to mouth; or a
dead fish's skin manufactured into something that may
accord with the popular notions regarding these
beings. Mr. George Cruikshank, in 1822, made a drawing
of a mermaid, which was exhibited in St. James's
Street, and afterwards at Bartholomew Fair; it
drew
crowds by its ugliness, and showed what wretched
things will suffice to gull the public although, of
course, outside the booth at the fair there was a
picture of the orthodox mermaid, with beautiful
features and hair, comb in one hand, mirror in the
other, and so forth. This was probably the identical
mermaid, respecting which the lord chancellor was
called upon to adjudicate, towards the close of
November 1822. There was a disputed ownership, and his
lordship expressed his satisfaction that he was not
called upon to decide whether the animal was man,
woman, or mermaid, but only to say to whom it
rightfully belonged.
THANKSGIVING
DAY IN AMERICA
The great social and religious festival of New
England, from which it has spread to most of the
states of the American republic, is a legacy of the
Puritans. They abolished Christmas as a relic of
popery, or of prelacy, which they held in nearly equal
detestation, and passed laws to punish its observance;
but, wanting some day to replace it, the colonial
assemblies, and, later, the governors of the states,
appointed every year some day in autumn, generally
toward the end of November, as a day of solemn prayer
and thanksgiving for the blessings of the year, and
especially the bounties of the harvest.
Thanksgiving day is always celebrated on Thursday, and the same
day is chosen in most of the states. The governor's proclamation appointing the
day, is read in all the churches, and there are appropriate sermons and religious
exercises. Families, widely scattered, meet at the bountiful thanksgiving dinners
of roast turkeys, plum pudding, and mince and pumpkin pies. Cooking a large Thanksgiving
turkey is the centerpiece of the family gathering. First time cooks can use a
cooking calculator to see how long to cook
a whole turkey dependent on weight.
The evenings are devoted by the young people to rustic games
and amusements. The subjects of the thanksgiving-sermons are not
infrequently of a political character, and in the
chief towns of the union, those of the most popular
preachers are generally published in the newspapers.
The thanksgiving festival, though widely celebrated,
is Not so universally respected as formerly, as the
influx of Roman Catholics and Episcopalians has
brought Christmas again into vogue, which is also kept
by the Unitarians with considerable solemnity. As a
peculiar American festival it will, however, long be
cherished by the descendants of the Puritans.
November 25th
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