Part 60

At Ludgate was a gaol, where the prisoners clamoured for alms at the barred grate; and it was here that Sir Thomas Wyatt had been repulsed. The city wall that joined this gate to its other fellow gates ran from the Tower through the Minories to Aldgate, Houndsditch, and Bishopsgate, through Cripplegate to Aldersgate, and so past Christ's Hospital by Newgate and Ludgate to the Thames.

Pimlico was a country place where citizens used to repair to eat "pudding pies" on a Sunday, as they did to Islington or Hogsden to take tobacco and drink new milk; as Islington was famous for its dairy, where Sir Walter Raleigh is said to have lived in an old house still standing, so Holloway was famous for its cheese cakes; and it is these peculiarities that, after all, confer immortality upon a place. Chelsea was the mere village of Chelsea, known from Sir Thomas More's house, where Henry VIII. had walked with his arm round that great statesman's doomed neck; as Holborn was then a country road leading to the pleasant village of St. Giles, and trending on to the way that led to Oxford and to fatal Tyburn, so called from its burn or brook, then well known to patient city anglers. The triple tree or gallows stood at the corner of the present Edgware Road. The same Oxford Street led also, if you turned up one side of the Hampstead Road, to the Tottenham Court, which stood there alone far in the country, and Primrose Hill was an untrodden hillock, surrounded by wide paths and ditches between this court and Hampstead.

A cheerful little stream, known by the pleasant name of the Fleet, rose near Hampstead Hill, and joined by the Old Bourne and recruited by sparkling Clerken Well, emptied itself in the Thames. Though even then merely a sewer, it was open, and had four bridges of its own, while the Thames had but one; and these were known as Holborn Bridge, Fleet-lane Bridge, Fleet Bridge, and Bridewell Bridge.

Spitalfields was a grassy open space, with artillery grounds and a pulpit and cross, where fairs were held and sermons preached. There were also Tothill Fields, and Finsbury Fields, and Moor Fields, just outside the city walls, laid out in walks, and planted, as far as Hoxton. Round these squares there were windmills and everything equally rural. As for Piccadilly, it was everywhere known as a road to Reading, and by many herbalists, as harbouring the small wild foxglove in its dry ditches.

Outside Temple Bar, before the wooden gatehouse was built, lay the Strand, the road leading from the city to the houses of Court. This river bank was the chosen residence of the nobility, whose gardens stretched to the edge of the then undefiled river. The sky then was pure and bright, for our ancestors burnt wood fires, and the water was gay with thousands of boats. Each house had its terrace, its water stairs, and garden. The street houses were so scattered that the river could be seen between them, and there were three water courses there traversed by bridges, besides two churches and a maypole. Here stood York House, where Bacon was born, and Durham Place, where Raleigh lived, with his study in a turret overlooking the river; there also were Arundel House and Essex House, where great men pined and plotted.

At Whitehall stood Wolsey's Palace, enlarged by Henry VIII., and Elizabeth's favourite residence when not at Nonsuch in Surrey, Windsor, Greenwich, or Richmond. The tilt-yard stood where the Horse Guards now stands. St. James's Palace, also built by Henry VIII., where the Queen's melancholy-bigot sister had died, was seldom inhabited by the Court; but the park was even then existing. As for the old palace of Richard III. (Baynard's Castle), that had been let to the Earl of Pembroke, and the same king's dwelling of Crosby Hall had fallen into the hands of an alderman.

WARWICK THE KING-MAKER.

On the right-hand side of Newgate-street are various streets and courts leading into Paternoster-row. Of these, Warwick and Ivy lanes, Panyer-alley, and Lovel's-court, merit the attention of the lover of literary and historical antiquities. Warwick-lane, now the abode of butchers and tallow-chandlers, took its name from the inn or house of the celebrated Warwick, the king-maker.

Stow mentions his coming to London in the famous convention of 1458, with 600 men, all in red jackets, embroidered, with ragged staves, before and behind, and was lodged in Warwick-lane; "in whose house there was often six oxen eaten at a breakfast, and every taverne was full of his meate, for hee that had any acquaintance in that house, might have there so much of sodden and roaste meate, as he could pricke and carry upon a long dagger."

The memory of the earl was long preserved by a small stone statue, placed in the side front of a tobacconist's, at the corner of this lane; and there is a public-house which has the earl's head for its sign.

THANKSGIVING DAY IN 1697.

The following is an extract from the "Post Boy" of the above date:--

"Thursday, December 2, 1697. Thursday being appointed for the day of Thanksgiving, the same was ushered in with ringing of bells; the king went to the Chapel Royal, where, &c., and at night we had bonfires and illuminations. The fine fireworks in St. James's Square were lighted after this manner:--About twelve o'clock, the Foot Guards lined the avenues; the rockets and all things being fixed on the rails the day before: a little after six, the king, attended by his guards, came to the Earl of Romney's house, from whence soon after a signal was given, by firing a rocket, for the fireworks to go off, which were immediately lighted; the performance was extraordinary fine, and much applauded; the same continued somewhat better than half an hour, and there were divers sorts of fireworks; some had the king's name, others the arms of England; in a word, they were very curious. There was a man and a woman unfortunately killed, and divers others hurt by the falling down of sticks. About half an hour after, His Majesty went to St. James's there being a fine ball."

THE GREY MAN'S PATH.

The annexed sketch depicts a scene in the coast rocks at Fairhead, near Ballycastle in Ireland. Fhir Leith, or "The Grey Man's Path," (a fissure in the precipice,) viewed either from land or sea, is never to be forgotten: it seems as though some supernatural power, determined to hew for itself a pathway through the wonderful formations that tower along the coast--so that it might visit or summon the spirits of the deep, without treading a road made by mortal hands--had willed the fearful chasm that divides the rocky promontory in two. The singular passage, in its narrow part, is barred across by the fragment of a pillar, hurled, as it were, over the fissure, and supported on both sides at a considerable elevation. If you descend, you perceive the passage widens, and becomes more important; its dark sides assume greater height, and a more wild and sombre magnificence; and at last they extend upwards, above 220 feet, through which the tourist arrives at the massive _debris_ which crowd the base of the mighty promontory, where the northern ocean rolls his threatening billows. From the cragsmen and boatmen of this wild coast you hear no tales of Faery, no hints of the gentle legends and superstitions collected in the south, or in the inland districts of the north; not that they are a whit less superstitious, but their superstition is, as the superstition of the sea kings, of a bold and peculiar character; their ghosts come from out the deep, before or after the rising of the moon, and climb, or rather stalk up the rocks, and, seated upon those mysterious pillars, converse together; so that, in the fisherman's huts, they say, "it thunders." Even mermaids are deemed too trifling in their habits and manners for this stupendous scenery, where spirits of the gigantic world congregate, and where the "Grey Man" of the North Sea stalks forth, silently and alone, up his appropriate path, to witness some mighty convulsion of nature.

ANCIENT JET NECKLACE.

Various interesting ornaments, belonging to the Archaic, or Bronze period in Scotland, are preserved in the Museum of Scottish Antiquaries, and one set in particular, found enclosed in an urn within a rude stone cist, on the demolition of a tumulus near the Old House of Assynt, Rossshire, in 1824, we here engrave. They include a necklace of irregular oval jet beads, which appear to have been strung together like a common modern string of beads, and are sufficiently rude to correspond with the works of a very primitive era. The other ornaments which are represented here about one-fourth the size of the original, are curiously studded with gold spots, arranged in patterns similar to those with which the rude pottery of the British tumuli are most frequently decorated, and the whole are perforated with holes passing obliquely from the back through the edge, evidently designed for attaching them to each other by means of threads.

JUGGLERS IN JAPAN.

The perfection of jugglery in Japan entitles it to be ranked amongst the fine arts. An eye-witness thus describes the performance of a Japanese juggler. "Here are some of his feats:--No. 1. He took an ordinary boy's top, spun it in the air, caught it on his hand, and then placed it (still spinning) upon the edge of a sword, near the hilt. Then he dropped the sword point a little, and the top moved slowly towards it. Arrived at the very end, the hilt was lowered in turn, and the top brought back. As usual, the sword was dangerously sharp. No. 2 was also performed with the top. He spun it in the air, and then threw the end of the string back towards it with such accuracy that it was caught up and wound itself all ready for a second cast. By the time it had done this it had reached his hand, and was ready for another spin. No. 3 was still performed with the top. There was an upright pole, upon the top of which was perched a little house, with a very large front door. The top was spun, made to climb the pole, knock open the said front door, and disappear. As well as I remember, the hand end of the string was fastened near the door, so that this was almost a repetition of the self-winding feat. But feat No. 4 was something even more astonishing than all this. He took two paper butterflies, armed himself with the usual paper fan, threw them into the air, and, fanning gently, kept them flying about him as if they had been alive. 'He can make them alight wherever you wish! Try him!' remarked the Kami (Prince), through the interpreter. Mr. H---- requested that one might alight upon each ear of the juggler. No sooner expressed than complied with. Gentle undulations of the fan waved them slowly to the required points, and there left them comfortably seated. Now, whether this command over pieces of paper was obtained simply by currents of air, or by the power of a concealed magnet, Mr. H---- could not tell or ascertain. One thing, however, was certain, the power was there."

MAY-FAIR PLAY BILL IN THE TIME OF WILLIAM III. WILLIAM REX. MAY-FAIR. MILLER'S, OR THE LOYAL ASSOCIATION BOOTH, AT THE UPPER END OF BROOK-FIELD MARKET, NEAR HYDE PARK CORNER. DURING THE TIME OF MAY-FAIR, WILL BE PRESENTED AN EXCELLENT DROLL, CALLED KING WILLIAM'S HAPPY DELIVERANCE AND GLORIOUS TRIUMPH OVER HIS ENEMIES, OR THE CONSULTATION OF THE POPE, DEVIL, FRENCH KING, AND THE GRAND TURK, WITH THE WHOLE FORM OF THE SIEGE OF NAMUR, AND THE HUMOURS OF A RENEGADE FRENCH MAN AND BRANDY JEAN, WITH THE CONCEITS OF SCARAMOUCH AND HARLEQUIN, TOGETHER WITH THE BEST SINGING AND DANCING THAT WAS EVER SEEN IN A FAIR, ALSO A DIALOGUE SONG. VIVAT REX.

BELLS.

Bells were formerly a prolific source of superstition. There is a valley in Nottinghamshire, where a village is said to have been swallowed up by an earthquake, and it was the custom on Christmas Day morning for the people to assemble in this valley and listen to the fancied ringing of the church bells underground. At Abbot's Morton there is a tradition that the silver bells belonging to the abbot are buried in the site of his old residence there. At Ledbury, a legend relates that St. Katharine had a revelation that she was to travel about, and not rest at any place, till she heard the bells ringing of their own accord. This was done by the Ledbury bells on her approaching that town. When the church at Inkberrow was rebuilt on a new site in ancient days, it was believed that the fairies took umbrage at the change, as they were supposed to be averse to bells; they accordingly endeavoured to obstruct the building, but, as they did not succeed, the following lamentation was occasionally heard by the startled rustics:

"Neither sleep, neither lie, For Inkbro's ting-tangs hang so nigh."

Many years ago the twelve parish churches in Jersey each possessed a beautiful and valuable peal of bells; but during a long civil war, the states determined on selling these bells to defray the heavy expenses of their army. The bells were accordingly collected, and sent to France for that purpose; but, on the passage, the ship foundered, and everything was lost, to show the wrath of Heaven at the sacrilege. Since then, before a storm, these bells ring up from the deep; and, to this day, the fishermen of St. Ouen's Bay always go to the edge of the water before embarking, to listen if they can hear "the bells upon the wind;" and, if those warning notes are heard, nothing will induce them to leave the shore; if all is quiet they fearlessly set sail. As a gentleman, who has versified the legend, says:

"'Tis an omen of death to the mariner, Who wearily fights with the sea; For the foaming surge is his winding sheet, And his funeral knell are we: His funeral knell our passing bells beat, And his winding sheet the sea."

BRIBING THE DEMONS.

The rich inhabitants of the Celestial Empire, it is almost needless to say, make an exorbitant display at funerals. They invite as many relations and friends as they can, in order to muster an imposing procession, and the mourning dresses worn by the whole party are at the cost of the family of the deceased, who are also bound to provide them for several days together with splendid repasts. A great number of musicians are hired for the occasion, and also of _weepers_, for though most people in China are pretty well skilled in the art of shedding tears, there exist mourners by profession, who have carried it to still greater perfection, and are absolutely inimitable at sobs and groans. They follow the coffin in long white robes, hempen girdles, and dishevelled hair; and their lamentations are accompanied by the beating of gongs, by the sharp and discordant sounds of rude instruments of music, and the discharge of fireworks. The sudden explosion and the smell of the powder are supposed to be efficacious in frightening away the demons, and hindering them from seizing on the soul of the defunct, which never fails to follow the coffin; and as these malevolent spirits have also the reputation of being extremely covetous and fond of money, people endeavour to get on their weak side. They let fall, for this purpose, all along the road, sapecks and bank-notes, that the wind carries away in all directions; and as the demons in China are by no means so cunning as the men, they are taken in by this device, and fall into the trap with charming simplicity, though, the supposed bank-notes are in fact only bits of white paper. Whilst they are engaged in pursuing these deceitful appearances of riches, the soul of the defunct proceeds quietly and comfortably after its coffin without any danger of its being stopped by the way.

HOLY-WATER SPRINKLER.

To sprinkle the holy water was, in ancient times, the cant phrase for fetching blood, which will account for the appellation of a certain class of weapons, as there is no resemblance whatever between them and the aspergillum used by Roman Catholics. The specimen we have here sketched is a demi holy-water-sprinkler--to speak in the language of the time--"with gonnes at the ende." This awkward weapon, prior, in point of date, to the invention of the matchlock, and, therefore, not later than the time of Edward IV., was made to hang at the saddle-bow instead of a mace. The iron cap at the end is furnished with a spear-like blade, and opens on an hinge, or is held in its place by a hook. It contains four short barrels, each of which is fired by a match, and its touch-hole is protected by a sliding piece of wood.

In using this weapon the intention was first to fire at the enemy with the "gonnes at the ende," and then to club him on coming to close quarters. To effect all this, however, in a satisfactory manner, much time must have been lost, and many accidents, no doubt, were liable to happen to the person who used such a weapon as this, which was almost as dangerous to the man who possessed it, as to the enemy against whom he directed it. The lid at the top must first have been opened, and not only so, but must have been kept open all the time the weapon was used as a gun, and then, previously to closing with the foe, it must have been necessary to secure it, lest, in brandishing the instrument as a club, the open lid should strike against the head of the man who wielded it. No wonder that this dangerous compound of club and gun soon went out of fashion, and survived its invention only a very few years.

FIRST TEA-DRINKERS PUZZLED.

The first brewers of tea were often sorely perplexed with the preparation of the new mystery. "Mrs. Hutchinson's great grandmother was one of a party who sat down to the first pound of tea that ever came into Penrith. It was sent as a present, and without directions how to use it. They boiled the whole at once in a bottle, and sat down to eat the leaves with butter and salt, and they wondered how any person could like such a diet."

COLUMN AT CUSSI.

The great object of the erection of pillars of victory was to serve as vehicles for sculpture; though, as we now see them, or as they are caricatured at Paris and elsewhere, they are little more than instances of immense labour bestowed to very little purpose. In the original use of these pillars, they were placed in small courts surrounded by open porticos, whence the spectator could at two, or perhaps at three different levels examine the sculpture at his leisure at a convenient distance, while the absurdity of a pillar supporting nothing was not apparent, from its not being seen from the outside. A good specimen of this class is that at Cussi, near Beaune, in France. It is represented in the annexed cut. It probably belongs to the time of Aurelian, and no doubt was first erected within a court; but it is not known either by whom it was erected, or what victory it was designed to celebrate. Still that it is a pillar of victory is certain, and its resemblance to pillars raised with the same object in India is quite striking. The arrangement of the base, serving as a pedestal for eight statues, is not only elegant, but appropriate. The ornament which covers the shaft takes off from the idea of its being a mere pillar, and, at the same time, is so subdued as not to break the outline or interfere with constructive propriety. The capital of the Corinthian order is found in the neighbourhood, used as the mouth of a well. In its original position it no doubt had a hole through it, which being enlarged suggested its application to its present comparatively ignoble purpose, the hole being no doubt intended either to receive or support the statue or emblem that originally crowned the monument, but of that no trace now remains.

STYLE OF LIVING AMONG THE NOBILITY OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY.

The ordinary meals were now increased to four a day--breakfast at seven in the morning, dinner at ten, supper at four in the afternoon, and "liveries," which were taken in bed, between eight and nine at night. These latter, as well as the breakfast, were of no light or unsubstantial character, consisting of good beef and mutton (or salt fish in Lent), with beer and wine in the morning; and of a loaf or two, with a few quarts of mulled wine and beer, at nights. At dinner the huge oaken table, extending the whole length of the great hall, was profusely covered with joints of fresh and salt meat, followed by courses of fowl, fish, and curious made-dishes. The Lord took his seat on the dais or raised floor at the head; his friends and retainers were ranged above or below the salt, according to their rank. As forks were not yet in use, the fingers were actively employed, whilst wine and beer in wooden or pewter goblets were handed round by the attendants. Over head the favourite hawks stood upon their perches, and below the hounds reposed upon the pavement.

The dinner generally lasted for three hours, and all pauses were filled up by the minstrels, jesters, or jugglers, or by the recitation of some romance of chivalry. At the end of each course they sometimes introduced a dish called _subtlety_, composed of curious figure in jellies or confectionery, with a riddling label attached for the exercise of social wit. The monasteries were especially noted for their good dinners, and the secular clergy, not to be outdone in their hospitality invented _glutton-masses_ in honour of the Virgin. These were held five times a year in the open churches, whither the people brought food and liquor, and vied with each other in this religious gormandizing. The general diet of the common people continued, however, to be coarse and poor, and severe famines not unfrequently occurred.

ORIGIN OF THE TITLE "SFORZA."

James Sforza, the father of Francis the first duke, was the founder of the house of Sforza, which gave six dukes to Milan, and was allied with almost every sovereign in Europe during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. He was born in 1369, at Catignuola, near Faenza; his father, according to tradition, was a day labourer, and to others, a shoemaker, but probably wrought as both. Perceiving some soldiers pass, he was struck with the desire of bearing arms. "I will go," said he to himself, "and dart my hatchet against that tree, and if it stick fast in the wood I will immediately become a soldier." The hatchet stuck fast, and because, says the Abbot of Choisi, he threw the axe with all his force, he assumed the supposed fortunate name of Sforza, as his real name was Giacomuzzo, or James Attendulo.

MAY-POLE IN THE STRAND.

During the austere reign of the Puritans, when theatres were closed, and every sort of popular amusement was considered sinful, the May-poles fell into disrepute, and were pulled down in various parts of London. Among the rest, the famous May-pole in the Strand came to the ground. With the restoration of the monarchy, the people saw the restoration of their ancient sports; and on the very first May-day after the return of Charles II., the May-pole in the Strand was set up again, amid great popular rejoicing. The following account of the ceremony is taken from a rare tract of the times, entitled "The Citie's Loyaltie displayed. London, 4to., 1641," and quoted in the first volume of Hone's "Every-Day Book," page 557:--