Part 75
With many savage nations it is a custom when prisoners have been captured in war, to keep them in confinement for some time, till the preparations for a grand festival have been completed, and then to put them to death in the presence of the great men and chief priests of the country. They were slaughtered, sometimes as offerings to the gods, sometimes as sacrifices to the spirits of those slain in the war in which they were captured, and at other times as incentives to the young warriors who were to be the future defenders of the nation. In all these cases, appropriate and peculiar ceremonies were prescribed, and the victims were generally despatched by a particular official, whose especial duty it was to perform the bloody deed. A particular weapon was also used, and one of these is sketched at the head of our article. It was used by one of the tribes which inhabit the shores of Nootka Sound. It is intended to represent the sacred bird of their nation, and is made of wood, inlaid with mother-of-pearl, with a blade of basalt. The lower end is hollow for the insertion of a handle.
ANCIENT STONE COLLARS.
Perhaps the most singular relics of that Pagan period in Scotland when the use of metals was in a great measure unknown, are two stone collars, found near the celebrated parallel roads of Glenroy, and now preserved at the mansion of Tonley, Aberdeenshire. We here give an engraving of them.
They are each of the full size of a collar adapted to a small Highland horse; the one formed of trap or whin-stone, and the other of a fine-grained red granite. They are not, however, to be regarded as the primitive substitutes for the more convenient materials of later introduction; on the contrary, a close imitation of the details of a horse collar of common materials is attempted, including the folds, the leather, nails, buckles, and holes for tying particular parts together. They are finished with much care and a high degree of polish, and are described as obviously the workmanship of a skilful artist. Mr. Skene, who first drew attention to these remarkable relics, suggests the peculiar natural features of Glenroy having led to the selection of this amphitheatre for the scene of ancient public games, and that these stone collars might commemorate the victor in the chariot race, as the tripods, still existing, record the victor in the Choragic games of Athens. But no circumstances attending their discovery are known which could aid conjecture either as to the period or purpose of their construction.
THE OFFSPRING OF DRUNKENNESS.
From an interesting lecture on drunkenness, and on popular investments, recently delivered by the Rev. J. B. Owen, M.A., of Bilston, we select this impressive enumeration of the crimes mainly springing from drunkenness. Drink was the desolating demon of Great Britain. They had spent in intoxicating drinks during the present century as much as would pay the national debt twice over! There were 180,000 gin drinkers in London alone, and in that city three millions a year are spent in gin! In thirteen years 249,006 males and 183,921 females were taken into custody for being drunk and disorderly. In Manchester no less than a million a-year were spent in profligacy and crime. In Edinburgh there were 1,000 whisky shops--160 in one street--and yet the city contained only 200 bread shops. Of 27,000 cases of pauperism, 20,000 of them were traceable to drunkenness. In Glasgow the poor rates were L100,000 a-year. "Ten thousand," says Alison, "get drunk every Saturday night--are drunk all day Sunday and Monday, and not able to return to work till Tuesday or Wednesday." Glasgow spends L1,200,000 annually in drink, and 20,000 females are taken into custody for being drunk. And what were some of the normal results of such appalling statistics? insanity, pauperism, prostitution, and crime. As to the insanity affiliated on drink, the Bishop of London stated, that of 1,271 maniacs, whose previous histories were investigated, 649, or more than half of them, wrecked their reason in drinking. As to its pauperism, it is estimated that not less than two-thirds of our paupers were the direct or indirect victims of the same fatal vice. As to its prostitution, its debauching influence was remotely traceable in the 150,000 harlots of London, and in their awful swarms in all our large towns and cities. Its relation to crime was equally conclusive. In Parkhurst prison, it was calculated, that 400 out of 500 juvenile prisoners, were immured there, as the incidental results of parental debauchery. The Chaplain of the Northampton County Gaol, lately informed the lecturer, that, "of 302 prisoners in this gaol, during the last six months, 176 attributed their ruin to drunkenness; 64 spent from 2s. 6d. to 10s. a week in drink; 15 spent from 10s. to 17s.; and 10 spent all their savings. Is it not remarkable," he added, "that out of 433 prisoners in this gaol, I have not had one that has had one sixpence in a saving's bank, nor above six that ever had sixpence in one? On the contrary, I have many members of friendly societies, of course of unsound ones, which with two or three exceptions, all met at public houses; and there they learned to drink, and became familiarised with crime." Judge Erskine declared at the Salisbury Assizes in 1844, that 96 cases out of every 100 were through strong drink. Judge Coleridge added, at Oxford, that he never knew a case brought before him, which was not directly or indirectly connected with intoxicating liquors; and Judge Patteson capped the climax, at Norwich, by stating to the grand jury, "If it were not for this drinking, you and I should have nothing to do!" Of the 7,018 charges entered at Bow Street Police Office, in the year 1850, half of them were for being drunk and incapable; and if they added to these the offences indirectly instigated by intoxication, the proportion rose at least to 75 per cent.
AN OLD PIKE.
In the year 1497 a giant "Jack-killer" was captured in the vicinity of Mannheim, with the following announcement in Greek appended to his muzzle:--"I am the first fish that was put into this pond by the hands of the Emperor Frederic the Second, on this 3rd day of October, 1262." The age of the informant, therefore, if his lips spoke truth (and the unprecedented dimensions of the body left little doubt on that point), was more than two hundred and thirty-five years. Already he had been the survivor of many important changes in the political and social world around, and would have swam out perhaps as many more had the captors been as solicitous to preserve his life as they were to take his portrait. This, on the demise of the original, was hung up in the castle of Lautern, and the enormous carcase (which, when entire, weighed three hundred and fifty pounds, and measured nineteen feet) was sent to the museum at Mannheim, where, deprived of its flesh, and caparisoned _de novo_, it hung, and haply yet hangs, a light desiccated skeleton, which a child might move.
BURMESE BOAT.
The curious boat which is here depicted in full sail is one of those which is used by the Burmese on the river Irawadi. They are called _hnau_, and Captain Yule gives the following description of them in his "Mission to Ava:"--
"The model is nearly the same for all sizes, from the merest dinghy upwards. The keel-piece is a single tree hollowed out, and stretched by the aid of fire when green, a complete canoe, in fact. From this, ribs and planking are carried up. The bow is low with beautiful hollow lines, strongly resembling those of our finest modern steamers. The stern rises high above the water, and below the run is drawn out fine to an edge. A high bench or platform for the steersman, elaborately carved, is an indispensable appendage. The rudder is a large paddle lashed to the larboard quarter, and having a short tiller passing athwart the steerman's bench.
"The most peculiar part of the arrangement of these vessels is in the spars and rigging. The mast consists of two spars; it is, in fact, a pair of shears, bolted and lashed to two posts rising out of the keel-piece, so that it can be let down, or unshipped altogether, with little difficulty. Above the mainyard the two pieces run into one, forming the topmast. Wooden rounds run as ratlines from one spar of the mast to the other, forming a ladder for going aloft.
"The yard is a bamboo, or a line of sliced bamboos, of enormous length, and, being perfectly flexible, is suspended from the mast-head by numerous guys or halyards, so as to curve upwards in an inverted bow. A rope runs along this, from which the huge mainsail is suspended, running on rings like a curtain outwards both ways from the mast. There is a small topsail of similar arrangement.
"The sail-cloth used is the common light cotton stuff for clothing. Of any heavier material it would be impossible to carry the enormous spread of sail which distinguishes these boats. At Menh'la one vessel was lying so close to the shore that I was enabled to pace the length of the half-yard. I found it to be 65 feet, or for the length of the whole spar, neglecting the curve, 130 feet. The area of the mainsail in this case could not have been very much less than 4,000 square feet, or one-eleventh of an acre.
"These boats can scarcely sail, of course, except before the wind. But in ascending the Irawadi, as on the Ganges during the rainy season, the wind is almost always favourable. A fleet of them speeding before the wind with the sunlight on their bellying sails has a splendid though fantastic appearance. With their vast spreading wings and almost invisible hulls, they look like a flight of colossal butterflies skimming the water."
DANCING DERVISHES.
The Dancing Dervishes at Constantinople are a remarkable instance of the lengths to which superstition and credulity will proceed. The saltatory ceremony which they perform at their religious services is thus admirably described by Mr. Albert Smith in his "Month at Constantinople:"--
"I have said it was Friday; and so, on my return, I had an opportunity of seeing the Dancing Dervishes at Pera. They exhibit--for it is rather a sight than a solemnity--on this day, as well as on Tuesday, in every week. Their convent is facing the scrap of burying-ground on the road from Galata to Pera, and any one may witness their antics. Having put off our shoes, we entered an octagonal building, with galleries running round it, and standing places under them, surrounding the railed enclosure in which the Dervishes were to dance, or rather spin. One division of this part of the building was put aside for Christians, the others were filled with common people and children. When I arrived, one old Dervish, in a green dress, was sitting at one point of the room, and twenty-four in white, were opposite to him. A flute and drum played some very dreary music in the gallery. At a given signal they all fell flat on their faces, with a noise and precision that would have done honour to a party of pantomimists; and then they all rose and walked slowly round, with their arms folded across their breasts, following the old green Dervish, who marched at their head, and bowing twice very gravely to the place where he had been sitting, and to the spot opposite to it. They performed this round two or three times. Then the old man sat down, and the others, pulling off their cloaks, appeared in a species of long petticoat, and one after the other began to spin. They commenced revolving precisely as though they were waltzing by themselves; first keeping their hands crossed on their breast, and then extending them, the palm of the right hand and the back of the left being upwards. At last they all got into play, and as they went round and round, they put me in mind of the grand party we have seen on the top of an organ, where a _cavalier seul_ revolves by himself, and bows as he faces the spectators.
"They went on for a long time without stopping--a quarter of an hour, perhaps, or twenty minutes. There was something inexpressibly sly and offensive in the appearance of these men, and the desire one felt to hit them hard in the face became uncomfortably dominant. At the end of their revolutions they made another obeisance to the old man, and all this time the players in the orchestra howled forth a kind of hymn. This ceremony was repeated three or four times, and then they all sat down again and put their cloaks on, whilst another Dervish, who had walked round and round amongst the dancers, whilst they were spinning, sang a solo. During this time their faces were all close to the ground. This done, they rose and marched before the old green Dervish once more, kissing his hand as they passed, and the service concluded, occupying altogether about three-quarters of an hour."
EXTRAORDINARY MALADY.
Digne, the principal town in the department of the Basses Alpes in France might be passed by the traveller without exciting one observation, its walks and its warm mineral waters being the only objects worthy of notice. Its inhabitants do not now exceed 3,500; but, in the year 1629, 10,000 industrious citizens followed their numerous avocations within its precincts. At that period, however, an extraordinary plague broke out, in the month of June, which lasted till October, committing the most awful ravages, so that in that short space of time the wretched inhabitants were reduced to the number of 1,500, among whom six only had escaped this very singular malady, the effects of which are thus described by a French writer:--"This malady strangely affected the invalids; some fancied they could fly; others, climb from one object to another like squirrels; some sunk into a profound lethargy, even for so long a time as six days; and one young woman who had been hastily interred in a vineyard, rose three days afterwards, for the grave-diggers were content just to cover the bodies. During these four months the town was covered with a thick fog: the heat was suffocating, accompanied by frequent and dreadful storms; and in order to complete the horrors of such a situation, the parliament forbade any of the inhabitants to quit the city, or the small territory belonging to it. Guards placed upon the _Bleonne_ fired upon those who attempted to escape. The magistrates abandoned their functions; the clocks no longer sounded the hours; the neighbouring springs dried up, so that the mills could not work; and famine began to add its fearful horrors to the miseries which already desolated the city, now become a living sepulchre, for the dead bodies lay in the streets unburied, and the few remaining persons who still paraded the streets appeared more like the spectres of those departed than living beings. Many persons not only prepared but put on the habiliments of death, and quietly awaited the approach of the _king of terrors_. A new edict condemned the pestilential city to the flames; but this inhuman decree was countermanded, after the destruction of one country house, with all its inhabitants. The disease having somewhat abated in the surrounding villages, humanity at length dictated the necessity of making some efforts to save the remaining few, who had escaped the contagion, from the no less frightful evil of famine. The scene that presented itself was appalling; several little children, whose parents were dead, were found sucking goats; in short, the desolation was so great that, although two centuries have passed away since this fatal scourge devastated the country, _Digne_ has never recovered its effects."
QUACKERY IN THE OLDEN TIME.
In the reign of Henry VIII. many of the medical practitioners were mere horse-farriers. A distinguished patient, the great Lord Burghley, secretary of state to Queen Elizabeth, was addressed by one Audelay, on a certain occasion, in this wise, "Be of goode comfort, and plucke up a lustie, merrie hearte, and then shall you overcome all diseases: and because it pleased my good Lord Admiral lately to praise my physicke, I have written to you such medicines as I wrote unto him, which I have in my boke of my wyffe's hand, _proved upon herselfe and mee both_: and if I can get anything that may do you any goode, you may be well assured it shall be a joye unto me to get it for you." "A good medicine for weakness or consumption:--Take a pig of nine days olde, and slaye him, and quarter him, and put him in a skillat, with a handfull of spearment, and a handfull of red fennell, a handfull of liverwort, half a handfull of red neap, a handfull of clarge, and nine dates, cleaned, picked, pared, and a handful of great raisins, and picke out the stones, and a quarter of an ounce of mace, and two stickes of goode cinnamon, bruised in a mortar, and distill it with a soft fire, and put it in a glass, and set it in the sun nine days, and drinke nine spoonfulls of it at once when you list!" "A compost:--item--take a porpin, otherwise called an English hedgehog, and quarter him in pieces, and put the said beast in a still, with these ingredients: item--a quart of redde wyne, a pinte of rose-water, a quarter of a pound of sugar--cinnamon and two great raisins." "If thore be any manner of disease that you be aggrieved withal, I pray you send me some knowledge thereof, and I doubt not but to send you an approved remedie. Written in haste at Greenwiche, y{e} 9 of May, 1553, by your trewe heartie friend, JOHN of AUDELAY."
A POISON WEAPON.
The instrument sketched forms one of the curiosities in the splendid museum of the late Sir S. R. Meyrick, and is a singular instance of that refinement of cruelty which is too prominent a characteristic of the sixteenth century. It is a weapon for throwing poisoned needles among a crowd. Where the lid at the top is seen lifted up, is the chamber in which the needles are kept stuck into a cork at the bottom. On the opposite side a needle is seen put through a hole in a strong spring, held in its place by a catch above, which, when pressed by the thumb disengages it and ejects the needle with considerable force. As the fore-finger goes through the centre ring, and the thumb is at the top, the weapon is almost entirely concealed by the hand. The spring can be adjusted by a screw at the side. This cruel instrument was used by men on horseback, or from a window, and as the needles were poisoned, many painful injuries must have been inflicted without the sufferers being able to discover by whom their wounds were caused.
ANCIENT SWORD-BREAKER.
The immense two-handed swords of former times were most fearful weapons, and far more easily used than the appearance of them would lead us to suppose. They were admirably poised, and the position in which they were held may be learned from various writers of their times. One hand was placed close to the cross-bar, while the other held the pommel. De Grassi, in 1594, tells us that those who use them contrive to "amase with the furie of the sword, and deliver great edge blows down-right and reversed, fetching a full circle or compass therein with exceeding great swiftness, staying themselves upon one foote, sometimes on the other, utterlie neglecting to thrust, and persuading themselves that the thrust serveth to amaze one man onlie, but those edge blows are of force to incounter many. The hand towards the enemie must take hold fast of the handle neere the crosse and underneath, the other hand above and near the pomell."
Silver, in his "Paradox" gives the following as the proportions of a two-handed sword in his day: "The perfect length of your two-handed sword is the blade to the length and hilt of your single sword."
The instrument which we have sketched on previous page, was used in the time of Henry VIII., for the purpose, not only of defence against one of those "great edge-blows down-right" but of catching the blade between the teeth, and then breaking it by a sharp turn of the wrist.
ORIGIN OF THE BALLOT.
The origin of electing members by balls may be traced to the Grecians. When a member was to be elected, every one threw a little pellet of bran, or crumb of bread into a basket, carried by a servant on his head round the table, and whoever dissented flattened their pellet at one side.
ANCIENT DAGGER.
The weapon which forms the subject of the woodcut is a dagger of the time of Philip and Mary, ornamented with engraving. After being thrust into a person, by pulling a little catch, it is made to open within him, and the prolongation of the blade allows means for a second blow. The two small hooks at the inner side of the two blades would admit of the dagger being thrust deeper in, but would prevent its being drawn out.
At the period these daggers were most in vogue, personal combats were very sanguinary and determined, seldom terminating without the death of one, and in some cases of both, of the parties engaged. They first used the long sword, and when that weapon was broken, they closed with one another, and used their daggers by stabbing at the most mortal part of their foe they could manage to reach.
THE TEMPLE OF POU-TOU.
Pou-tou is an island of the great archipelago of Chusan, on the coasts of the province of Tche-kiang. More than 100 monasteries, more or less important, and two of which were founded by Emperors, are scattered over the sides of the mountains and valleys of this picturesque and enchanting island, which nature and art have combined to adorn with their utmost magnificence. All over it you find delightful gardens, full of beautiful flowers,--grottoes cut in the living rock, amidst groves of bamboo and other trees, with aromatic banks. The habitations of the Bonzes are sheltered from the scorching rays of the sun by umbrageous foliage, and scattered about in the prettiest situations imaginable. Thousands of winding paths cross the valleys in various directions, and the brooks and rivulets, by means of pretty bridges of stone or painted wood, and for the communications between the scattered dwellings. In the centre of the island rise two vast and brilliant edifices--Buddhist temples--the yellow bricks of which announce that their construction is due to imperial munificence. The religious architecture of the Chinese does not at all resemble ours. They have no idea of the majestic, solemn, and perhaps somewhat melancholy style, that harmonizes so well with the feelings which ought to be inspired by a place devoted to meditation and prayer. When they wish to build a pagoda, they look out for the most gay and smiling site they can find on the declivity of a mountain or in a valley; they plant it with great trees of the evergreen species; they trace about it a number of paths, on the sides of which they place flowering shrubs, creeping plants, and bushes. It is through these cool and fragrant avenues you reach the building, which is surrounded by galleries, and has less the air of a temple than of a rural abode charmingly situated in the midst of a park or garden.