Part 11

He was interred in the new burial ground, Royston, and over his remains was placed a tombstone, bearing the following inscription:--

"In memory of Mr. Henry Andrews, who, from a limited education, made great progress in the liberal sciences, and was justly esteemed one of the best Astronomers of the Age. He departed this life, in full assurance of a better, January 26th, 1820, aged 76 years."

A portrait of Henry Andrews was published, and is now very rare. Dr. Charles Mackay, in his entertaining volume entitled "Extraordinary Popular Delusions" (issued by Routledge), gives a small portrait, and under it states, "Henry Andrews, the original 'Francis Moore.'" This is a mistake, as the Almanac was named after Francis Moore, physician, one of the many quack doctors who duped the credulous in the latter part of the 17th century. In Chambers's "Book of Days" (Vol. I., pages 9-14) will be found some very interesting information respecting Almanacs and Almanac Writers. We find it stated that "Francis Moore, in his Almanac for 1711, dates from the sign of the Old Lilly, near the old barge-house, in Christ Church Parish, Southwark, July 19th, 1710." Then follows an advertisement, in which he undertakes to cure diseases. Lysons mentions him as one of the remarkable men who, at different periods, resided at Lambeth, and says that his house was in Calcott's Alley, High Street, then called Back Lane, where he practised as astrologer, physician, and schoolmaster. _Moore's Almanac_ had appeared some years prior to 1711. We refer the reader wishing to obtain information respecting written and printed almanacs, to "The Book of Days."

James Nayler,

The Mad Quaker, who claimed to be the Messiah.

History furnishes particulars of many men who have claimed to be the Messiah, and perhaps the most celebrated of the number is James Nayler, "the mad Quaker." He was born at East Ardsley, near Wakefield, in the year 1616. It is certain that his parents were in humble circumstances, and it is generally believed that his father occupied a house near the old church, and that he was a small farmer. James Nayler, for a person in his station in life, received a fairly good education. In his early manhood he was a husbandman, and resided in his native village. When about twenty-two years of age he married, as he puts it, "according to the world," and removed to Wakefield.

Shortly after his marriage, the Civil War broke out in England, and Nayler took his share in the struggle between King and Parliament. He joined, in 1641, as a private, the Parliamentarian army, and his conduct and ability gaining him advancement, he rose to the position of quarter-master under General Lambert. While in Scotland ill-health obliged him to retire from active service, and he returned home.

Nayler carefully studied the Scriptures, and was a zealous member of the Independents, worshipping at Horbury, but he left this body in disgrace. It transpired that he had been paying attentions to a married woman named Mrs. Roper, of Horbury, whose husband had been absent from her for a long period, and that she became a mother, and that Nayler was the father of the child. The Rev. Mr. Marshall, the minister of the Independents, exposed him, and took him severely to task, so that he was finally expelled from that body.

George Fox, the founder of the Society of Friends, visited Wakefield in the year 1651, and made a convert of James Nayler. Here commences the real interest of Nayler's career--a career in which there is much to deplore, but much also certainly to cause wonder. He possessed extraordinary gifts as a preacher, and impressed the people with the truth of his teaching, more especially in the North and West of England. Troubles beset him almost on every hand,--troubles often caused through his own mistaken zeal and frail conduct; but he bore his trials with a noble Christian spirit. Nayler had no sooner joined the Quakers then he commenced what he termed his travels. At the quarter-sessions held at Appleby, in 1652, he was tried and found guilty of blasphemy, and sentenced to twenty weeks' imprisonment. On being released he continued spreading his doctrines in the North. We gather from the remarks of an officer who had served under Cromwell a testimony to the power of Nayler's preaching. "After the battle of Dunbar," says the officer, "as I was riding in Scotland at the head of my troop, I observed at some distance from the road a crowd of people, and one higher than the rest; upon which I sent one of my men to see, and bring me word what was the meaning of the gathering; and seeing him ride up and stay there, without returning according to my order, I sent a second, who stayed in like manner; and then I determined to go myself. When I came thither, I found it was James Nayler preaching to the people, but with such power and reaching energy as I had not till then been witness of. I could not help staying a little, although I was afraid to stay, for fear I was made a _Quaker_, being forced to tremble at the sight of myself. I was struck with more terror by the preaching of James Nayler than I was at the battle of Dunbar, when we had nothing else to expect but to fall a prey to the swords of our enemies, without being able to help ourselves. I clearly saw the Cross of Christ to be submitted to, so I durst stay no longer, but got off, and carried condemnation for it in my own breast. The people there cried out against themselves, imploring mercy, a thorough change, and the whole work of salvation to be effected by them."

Nayler, in 1654 after visiting in the West, wended his way to London, and preached to two congregations which had been formed by Edward Burrough and Francis Howgil, members of the Society of Friends, who suffered imprisonment with him at Appleby. He broke up both congregations, and drew after him "some inconsiderate women."

His mind gave way, and he believed that he was the Messiah. "Notwithstanding the irregularities of Nayler's life," says Scatcherd, the learned historian of Morley, "there were many things in the man, which, with low and ignorant people, exceedingly favoured his pretensions to the Messiahship. He appeared, both as to form and feature, the perfect likeness to Jesus Christ, according to the best descriptions. His face was of the oval shape, his forehead broad, his hair auburn and long, and parted on the brow, his beard flowing, his eyes beaming with a benignant lustre, his nose of the Grecian or Caucasian order, his figure erect and majestic, his aspect sedate, his speech sententious, deliberative, and grave, and his manner authoritative." Carlyle has drawn a pen picture of Nayler, but not with the skill of the foregoing.

It is not our intention to attempt to trace Nayler from place to place in his wanderings, but to touch on the more important episodes of his closing years. He visited the West in 1652 on a religious mission, and revisited it again four years later. During his visit to Cornwall, he prophesied, and subsequently one of the charges made against him was that he proclaimed himself to be a prophet. At Exeter he was charged with vagrancy, and imprisoned. During his confinement he was visited by a number of women, who had been moved by his teaching. Amongst the number was a widow named Dorcas Erbury. She fell into a swoon, and it was supposed that she was dead. Nayler went through certain ceremonies, and he pretended to have restored her to life. Referring to this when examined by the Bristol Magistrate at a later period, the woman said: "Nayler laid his hand on my head after I had been dead two days, and said, 'Dorcas, arise!' and I arose, and live, as thou seest." On being asked if she had any witness to corroborate her statement, she said that her mother was present. The local authorities at Exeter released Nayler after detaining him for a short time. At this period some strange scenes occurred. "The usual posture of Nayler," says Scatcherd, "was sitting in a chair, while his company of men and women knelt before him." These, it appears, were very numerous and constant for whole days together. At the commencement of the service, a female stepped forth and sang:--

"This is the joyful day, Behold! the King of righteousness is come!"

Another, taking him by the hand, exclaimed:--

"Rise up, my love--my dove--and come away, Why sittest thou among the pots."

Then, putting his hand upon her mouth, she sunk upon the ground before him, the auditory vociferating:--

"Holy, holy, holy, to the Almighty."

His procession through Chepstow caused much amazement in that quiet place. "Nayler" is described as being mounted on the back of a horse or mule;--one Woodcock preceded him bareheaded, and on foot:--a female on each side of Nayler held his bridle; many spread garments in his way,--while the women sang: "Hosannah to the Son of David--blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord--Hosannah in the highest!"

Nayler and his followers entered Bristol in a procession similar to the one just described. We are told that on this particular day in the year of grace 1656, when he visited the city of Bristol, rain was falling, and the roads were deep with mud, but neither mud nor rain could check the ardour of himself and disciples, and they sang hymns of praise. They first wended their steps to the High Cross, and then to the White Hart, Broad Street, where a couple of Quakers were staying. The local magistrates were soon on the alert, and had the party apprehended and cast into prison. After being examined by Bristol magistrates, Nayler and his followers were sent to London to be examined before Parliament. His examination and the debate on it occupied many days, and the members finally resolved "that James Nayler was guilty of horrid blasphemy, and that he was a grand impostor and seducer of the people"; and his sentence was, "that he should be set on the pillory, in the Palace Yard, Westminster, during the space of two hours, on Thursday next, and be whipped by the hangman through the streets from Westminster to the Old Exchange, London; and there, likewise, he should be set on the pillory, with his head in the pillory, for the space of two hours, between the hours of eleven and one, on Saturday next, in each place wearing a paper containing an inscription of his crimes; and that at the Old Exchange his tongue should be bored through with a hot iron, and that he should be there also stigmatised in the forehead with the letter B; and that he should be afterwards sent to Bristol, to be conveyed in and through the city on horseback, with his face backwards, and there also should be whipped the next market-day after he came thither; and that thence he should be committed to prison in Bridewell, London, and there be restrained from the society of all people, and there to labour hard till he should be released by Parliament; and during that time he should be debarred the use of pen, ink, and paper, and he should have no relief but what he earned by his daily labour." This terrible sentence was duly carried out, although Parliament and Cromwell were petitioned to mitigate the punishment. During his imprisonment he wrote his recantations in letters addressed to the Quakers. After being confined for two years he was set at liberty, and repaired to Bristol, and at a public meeting made a confession of his offence and fall. His address moved nearly all present to tears. The Quakers once more received him back to their Society.

His end came in the year 1660. In that year he left London for Wakefield, but failed to reach it. At Holm, near King's Rippon, Huntingdonshire, one night he was bound and robbed, and left in a field, where he was found by a countryman. He was removed to a house at Holm and every attention paid to him, but he soon died from the results of the rough treatment he had received at the hands of the highwaymen.

A Biographical Romance.

Swan's Strange Story.

In the olden days the misfortunes of William Swan frequently formed the topic of conversation amongst friends, who gathered round the fireside in the homes on the wild wolds of Yorkshire, where he spent some years of his disappointed life. The full details of his career have been lost in the lapse of time; never, to our knowledge, have they been committed to paper, but sufficient particulars may be brought together to prove in his case the truth of the old saying that "fact is stranger than fiction."

Nearly two centuries ago there was joy in Benwell Hall, near Newcastle-on-Tyne, the stately mansion of Richard Swan, Esq., the occasion of the rejoicing being the birth of an heir. The parents dreamed of a bright future for their boy, and proudly predicted that he would, in a worthy manner, perpetuate the name and fame of Swan. The happy expectations of boyhood were not to be realised, for the young heir had barely reached the age of nine years, when he was kidnapped from his home, in order that another might inherit the wealth that by kinship belonged to him. He was quietly shipped on board the "New Britannia" brig, which formed part of the squadron under command of the famous Sir Cloudesley Shovel. His position was that of a "powder monkey," and his chief employment was to bring powder from the magazine to the gunners during the naval engagements. On the 22nd of October, 1707, the fleet was wrecked on the Scilly Isles, owing to the Admiral mistaking the rocks for the sea-coast. No less than eight hundred brave men found a watery grave, and several vessels were lost. Happily the ship in which Swan sailed escaped destruction. Ill-fate, however, followed in its wake, for, shortly afterwards, it was captured by an Algerine corsair, and Swan was sold to the Moors as a slave. Four weary years were passed in Barbary. He gained his liberty through the assistance of the Redeeming Friars, a noble body of men who were the means of freeing thousands of Christians from captivity. Many benevolent persons left large sums of money for redeeming their fellow countrymen from bondage, and this money was expended judiciously through the agency of the Friars.

Swan had not the good fortune to reach his home in safety. He was again taken prisoner, and sold once more into slavery, this time to an English planter in South Carolina. Here his sufferings were terrible. He toiled with negroes from sunrise to sunset, the slave-drivers keeping them busy at work in the cotton and sugar plantations by means of the lash. Managing to escape, he landed, after an exile of twenty years, on his native shore in 1726, and speedily made his way to Newcastle-on-Tyne. His father's footman, Thomas Chance, and his old nurse, Mrs. Gofton, identified him, and he at once instituted a claim for the estate of his uncle, Alderman Swan, Mayor of Hull, who had died and left property yielding an income of L20,000 a year. His efforts proved unsuccessful, and the deep disappointment broke his heart, his death occurring in 1736, at the age of thirty-eight years.

Swan had married a Yorkshire woman called Jane Cole, of North Dalton, near Driffield, by whom he had a son named William. The widowed mother told her boy, as soon as he was able to understand, that he was the rightful heir to vast estates, and encouraged him to persevere to obtain them. The melancholy fate of her husband was not sufficient to crush her ardent spirit. A lawyer at Driffield was consulted, and he advised that action be taken. He undertook to conduct the case without payment until the estates were obtained, beyond the sums for correspondence, court fees, etc. The man, however, drained the poor fellow of every penny that he could procure, and both mother and son denied themselves the necessaries of life to keep up the constant demands of the solicitor. Months and years passed without getting any satisfaction. Poor Mrs. Swan at last felt the case to be hopeless, and the anxious waiting, with its disappointing results, preyed so on her mind that she fell into ill-health and died. Speaking to her son before her death, she said: "Oh, William, let this horrid plea drop. Don't pay that man any more money. I feel that he would skin us both alive. They are a bad set all these law men." William was young, and like the majority of young people, hope was firmly fixed in his nature. He not only devoted all his money to law, but bought a second-hand copy of "Blackstone's Commentaries," and spent all his leisure time in studying it, until he was complete master of the work. After the death of his mother, he gave up house-keeping, and took lodgings with a widow, having a daughter about twenty-four years of age. They became interested in his case, and lent him money to carry on his suit. A rich uncle had left the girl a few hundred pounds. The young couple were brought into sympathy with each other, which ripened into mutual affection, and in a short time, with the consent freely given of the mother, they were married. Shortly after the wedding it transpired that the attorney at Driffield had been cheating his client, and instead of using the hard-earned money of William Swan to gain his estates, he had spent it in dissipation, and was a ruined man.

Swan proceeded to London, and consulted another lawyer. This man advised an action which swallowed up the wife's small fortune, without getting them one step nearer obtaining the estate. Trouble after trouble came upon William. His heart was almost crushed, but he continued the action to the best of his ability. His wife begged of him to leave law alone, to return to their Yorkshire home, live by their industry, and give up all thoughts of the property. He refused to act upon her good advice. He got into debt, and was committed to the Fleet prison on his inability to pay. Here ill luck still followed him, for he caught the jail fever. In his sickness his devoted wife got permission to visit him, and bring him some delicacies. She, alas, caught the fever, and in a few days died. He recovered, but the death of his loving helpmate was almost too much for him. She had endured much for his sake, but never by word or deed showed regret at becoming his wife. Shortly afterwards a jail delivery enabled him to leave prison. His illness rendered him so weak that he could hardly walk. He obtained lodgings in an obscure lane or alley near Chiswell Street, and afterwards was found dead in bed. It is believed that his remains were buried in a pauper's grave.

Short Letters.

The shortest letters on record are two exchanged between a couple of members of the Society of Friends. One of them, wishing to learn if a correspondent in a distant town had any news to communicate, posted to him a quarto sheet of paper, on which nothing but a note of interrogation was written, thus: ? (meaning, "what news?") He received in reply, by next post, a blank sheet of paper, indicating that there was nothing to relate.

Some of the best of brief letters have been penned by members of the dramatic profession. The following are good specimens. A tradesman made application to Mordaunt, the player, for payment of an account, as follows:--

"Sir,--Your bill having been standing a very long time, I beg to have it settled forthwith.

Yours, etc., J. Thwaites."

Said the comedian in reply:--

"Sir,--When your bill is tired of _standing_, it is welcome to sit down.

Yours, etc., T. H. M."

The next letters passed between Samuel Foote, the famous actor, and his unfortunate mother:--

"Dear Sam,--I am in prison for debt; come and assist your loving mother,

E. Foote."

His answer was almost as brief, certainly as pathetic:--

"Dear Mother,--So am I, which prevents his duty being paid to his loving mother by her affectionate son.

Sam Foote."

"P.S.--I have sent my attorney to assist you; in the meantime let us hope for better days."

Quin had a misunderstanding with Rich, the manager of Covent Garden Theatre, which resulted in the former leaving in an unceremonious manner. He soon regretted the step that he had taken, and wrote to his old friend and manager:--

"I am at Bath.

Quin."

Rich did not deem such a letter a sufficient apology for his unwarrantable conduct, and thus replied to it:--

"Stay there and be hanged.

Rich."

The Rev. Sydney Smith, in answer to a friend who had forwarded a letter asking him to sit for his portrait, to be executed by Landseer, the gifted painter, whose pictures of dogs made him famous, sent the following reply:--

"Is thy servant a dog that he should do this thing?"

Genial Charles Lamb wrote an amusing letter to Haydon, the artist, in answer to an invitation to pay him a visit. The odd address of Haydon was the cause of the note, which ran as follows:--

"My dear Haydon,--I will come, with pleasure, to 22, Lisson Grove, North, at Rossi's, half-way up, right hand side, if I can find it.

Yours, C. Lamb."

"20, Russell Court, Covent Garden, East, Half-way up, next the corner, Left-hand side."

A lady named Morris, of Plymouth, is recorded to have been the first of her sex to venture under water in a diving bell.

She had wit as well as courage, and wrote to her father a rhyming epistle, saying:--

"From a belle, my dear father, you've oft had a line, But not from a bell under water; Just now I can only assure you I'm thine, Your diving and dutiful daughter."

Frank Smedley, the author of "Frank Fairleigh," addressed to a lady friend the following letter in verse:--

"To Mrs. G. H. Virtue."

"Thou better half of Virtue, gentle friend, Fairly to thee, I, Fairleigh, greeting send; Frankly I give what frankly you desire; You thus Frank Fairleigh's autograph acquire. To make assurance doubly sure, this medley Of Franks and Fairleighs this I sign-- Frank Smedley."

A famous sporting character, named Captain O'Byrne, laid a wager about Admiral Payne, and wrote to him as follows:--

"Dear Payne,--Pray, were you bread to the sea?"

The witty Admiral made reply:--

"Dear O'Byrne,--No; but the sea was bread to me."

It is said that King Charles the Second received the following letter:--

"King Charles,--One of your subjects the other night robbed me of L40, for which I robbed another of the same sum, who has inhumanly sent me to Newgate, and he vows I shall be hanged; therefore, for your own sake, save my life, or you will lose one of the best seamen in your navy.

Jack Skifton."

His Majesty promptly answered the letter:--

"Jack Skifton,--For this time I'll save thee from the gallows, but if hereafter thou art guilty of the like, I'll have thee hanged, though the best seaman in my navy.

Charles Rex."

Here is a copy of a quaint letter sent to another king. It was written by Dr. Schmidt, sacristan of the Cathedral at Berlin, to Frederick of Prussia:

"Sire,--I acquaint your Majesty, 1st, that they are wanting books of psalms for the Royal Family. I acquaint your Majesty, 2ndly, that there wants wood to warm the Royal seats. And I acquaint your Majesty, 3rdly, that the balustrade next the river, behind the church, is become ruinous.

Schmidt, Sacristan of the Cathedral."

In reply to the foregoing diverting communication the king wrote:--

"I acquaint Mr. Sacrist Schmidt, 1st, that they who want to sing songs may buy books. I acquaint Mr. Sacrist Schmidt, 2ndly, that those who want to be kept warm may buy wood. I acquaint Mr. Sacrist Schmidt, 3rdly, that I shall not trust any longer to the balustrade next to the river; and I acquaint Mr. Sacrist Schmidt, 4thly, that I will not have any more correspondence with him.

Frederick."

The following phonographic curiosity is extracted from the _Times_. It was written by an unsophisticated person to his physician, in Lancashire:--