Part 119
The emperor Charles V. being curious to know the sentiments of his meanest subjects concerning himself and his administration, often went incog. and mixed himself in such companies and conversation as he thought proper. One night at Brussels, his boot requiring immediate mending, he was directed to a cobbler. Unluckily, it happened to be St. Crispin’s holiday, and, instead of finding the cobbler inclined for work, he was in the height of his jollity among his acquaintance. The emperor acquainted him with what he wanted, and offered him a handsome gratuity.--“What, friend!” says the fellow, “do you know no better than to ask one of our craft to work on St. Crispin? Was it Charles himself, I’d not do a stitch for him now; but if you’ll come in and drink St. Crispin, do and welcome: we are as merry as the emperor can be.” The emperor accepted the offer: but while he was contemplating their rude pleasure, instead of joining in it, the jovial host thus accosts him:--“What, I suppose you are some courtier politician or other, by that contemplative phiz; but be you who or what you will, you are heartily welcome:--drink about--here’s Charles the Fifth’s health.”--“Then you love Charles the Fifth?” replied the emperor.--“Love him!” says the son of Crispin; “ay, ay, I love his long-noseship well enough; but I should love him much better would he but tax us a little less; but what have we to do with politics? round with the glasses, and merry be our hearts.” After a short stay, the emperor took his leave, and thanked the cobbler for his hospitable reception. “That,” cried he, “you are welcome to; but I would not have dishonoured St. Crispin to-day to have worked for the emperor.” Charles, pleased with the good nature and humour of the man, sent for him next morning to court. You must imagine his surprise to see and hear his late guest was his sovereign: he feared his joke upon his long nose must be punished with death. The emperor thanked him for his hospitality, and, as a reward for it, bade him ask for what he most desired, and take the whole night to settle his surprise and his ambition. Next day he appeared, and requested that, for the future, the cobblers of Flanders might bear for their arms a boot with the emperor’s crown upon it. That request was granted, and, as his ambition was so moderate, the emperor bade him make another. “If,” says he, “I am to have my utmost wishes, command that, for the future, the company of cobblers shall take place of the company of shoemakers.” It was, accordingly, so ordained; and, to this day, there is to be seen a chapel in Flanders, adorned with a boot and imperial crown on it: and in all processions, the company of cobblers takes precedence of the company of shoemakers.[362]
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FLORAL DIRECTORY.
Fleabane Starwort. _Aster Conizoides._ Dedicated to _St. Crispin_.
Meagre Starwort. _Aster miser._ Dedicated to _St. Crispinian_.
[361] Sykes’s Local Records.
[362] European Magazine, vol. xl.
~October 26.~
_St. Evaristus_, Pope, A. D. 112. _Sts. Lucian_ and _Marcian_, A. D. 250.
It is noticed by Dr. Forster, that in a mild autumn late grapes now ripen on the vines, and that the gathering of the very late sorts of apples, and of winter pears, still continues: these latter fruits, like those of the earlier year, are to be laid up in the loft to complete their process of ripening, which, except in a few sorts, is seldom completed on the trees.
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FLORAL DIRECTORY.
Late Golden Rod. _Solidago petiolaris._ Dedicated to _St. Evaristus_.
~October 27.~
_St. Frumentius_, Apostle of Ethiopia, 4th Cent. _St. Elesbaan_, King of Ethiopia, A. D. 527. _St. Abban_, Abbot in Ireland, 6th. Cent.
Evelyn says, “the loppings and leaves of the elm, dried in the sun, prove a great relief to cattle when fodder is dear, and will be preferred to oats by the cattle.” The Herefordshire people, in his time, gathered them in sacks for this purpose, and for their swine.
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FLORAL DIRECTORY.
Floribund Starwort. _Aster floribundus._ Dedicated to _St. Frumentius_.
~October 28.~
_St. Simon_, the Zealot, Apostle. _St. Jude_, Apostle. _St. Faro_, Bp. of Meaux, A. D. 672. _St. Neot_, A. D. 877.
~St. Simon and St. Jude.~
A festival to these apostles is maintained on this day in the church of England, whereon also it is celebrated by the church of Rome; hence their names in our almanacs.
_Simon_ is called the Canaanite, either from Cana the place of his birth, or from his having been of a hot and sprightly temper. He remained with the other apostles till after pentecost, and is imagined on slight grounds to have preached in Britain, and there been put to death. _Jude_, or Judas, also called _Thaddeus_ and _Libbius_, was brother to James the brother to Christ, (Matt. xiii. 55.) Lardner imagines he was the son of Joseph by a former wife. Some presume that he suffered martyrdom in Persia, but this is doubtful.[363]
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This anniversary was deemed as rainy as St. Swithin’s. A character in the “Roaring Girl,” one of Dodsley’s old plays, says, “as well as I know ’twill rain upon Simon and Jude’s day:” and afterwards, “now a continual Simon and Jude’s rain beat all your feathers as flat down as pancakes.” Hollinshed notices that on the eve of this day in 1536, when a battle was to have been fought between the troops of Henry VIII., and the insurgents in Yorkshire, there fell so great a rain that it could not take place. In the Runic calendar, the day is marked by a ship because these saints were fishermen.[364]
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FLORAL DIRECTORY.
Late Chrysanthemum. _Chrysanthemum scrotinum._ Dedicated to _St. Simon_. Scattered Starwort. _Aster passiflorus._ Dedicated to _St. Jude_.
[363] Audley.
[364] Brand.
~October 29.~
_St. Narcissus_, Bp. of Jerusalem. 2d Cent. _St. Chef_, in latin _Theuderius_, Abbot, A. D. 575.
_New Literary Institution, in 1825._
At this period, active measures were adopted in London for forming a “_Western Literary and Scientific Institution_,” for persons engaged in commercial and professional pursuits; its objects being 1. The establishment of a library of reference and circulation, and rooms for reading and conversation. 2. The formation of the members into classes, to assist them in the acquisition of ancient and modern languages. 3. The delivery of lectures in literature and science. This is an undertaking fraught with advantages, especially to young men whose situations do not permit them convenient access to means of instruction within the reach of their employers, many of whom may be likewise bettered by its maturity. The mechanics had an excellent “institution,” while persons, who, engaged in promoting general business, and meriting equal regard, remained without the benefit which growing intelligence offers to all who have industry and inclination sufficient to devise methods for reaching it. Other institutions have arisen, and are rapidly arising, for equally praiseworthy purposes.
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FLORAL DIRECTORY.
Green Autumnal Narcissus. _Narcissus viridiflorus._ Dedicated to _St. Narcissus_, Bp.
~October 30.~
_St. Marcellus_, the Centurion, A. D. 298. _St. Germanus_, Bp. of Capua, A. D. 540. _St. Asterius_, Bp. of Amasea in Pontus, A. D. 400.
ST. KATHARINE’S BY THE TOWER.
_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._
Sir,
_Oct._ 29, 1825.
The ancient and beautiful collegiate church of St. Katharine finally closes tomorrow, previous to its demolition by the St. Katharine’s dock company. The destruction of an edifice of such antiquity, one of the very few that escaped the great fire of 1666, has excited much public attention. I hope, therefore, that the subject will not be lost sight of in your _Every-Day Book_. Numbers of the nobility and gentry, who, notwithstanding an earnest appeal was made to them, left the sacred pile to its fate, have lately visited it. In fact, for the beauty and simplicity of its architecture, it has scarcely a rival in London, excepting the Temple church: the interior is ornamented with various specimens of ancient carving; a costly monument of the duke of Exeter, and various others of an interesting kind. This interesting fabric has been sacrificed by the present chapter, consisting of the master, sir Herbert Taylor, three brethren chaplains, and three sisters, to a new dock company, who have no doubt paid them handsomely for sanctioning the pulling down of the church, the violation of the graves, and the turning of hundreds of poor deserving people out of their homes; their plea is, that they have paid the chapter. I hope, sir, you will pardon the liberty I have taken in troubling you with these particulars; and that you will not forget poor Old Kate, deserted as she is by those whose duty it was to have supported her.
I remain,
Your obedient servant,
A NATIVE OF THE PRECINCT.
P.S. There is no more occasion for these docks than for one at the foot of Ludgate-hill.
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The purpose of this correspondent may be answered, perhaps, by publishing his well-founded lamentation over the final dissolution of his church; his call upon me could not be declined. I did not get his note till the very hour that the service was commencing, and hurried from Ludgate-hill to the ancient “collegiate church of St. Katharine’s by the Tower,” where I arrived just before the conclusion of prayers. Numbers unable to get accommodation among the crowd within, were coming from the place; but “where there’s a will there’s a way,” and I contrived to gain a passage to the chancel, and was ultimately conducted to a seat in a pew just as the rev. R. R. Bailey, resident chaplain of the tower, ascended the curious old pulpit of this remarkable structure. This gentleman, whose “History of the Tower” is well known to topographers and antiquaries, appropriately selected for his text, “Go to now, ye that say, to-day or to-morrow we will go into such a city, and continue there a year, and buy and sell and get gain.” (James iv. 13.) He discoursed of the frailty of man’s purpose, and the insecurity of his institutions, and enjoined hope and reliance on Him whose order ordained and preserves the world in its mutations. He spoke of the “unfeeling and encroaching hand of commerce,” which had rudely seized on the venerable fabric, wherein no more shall be said--
“Lord, how delightful ’tis to see, A whole assembly worship thee.”
To some of the many present the building was endeared by locality, and its burial ground was sacred earth. Yet from thence the bones of their kindred were to be expelled, and the foundations of the edifice swept away. For eight centuries the site had been undisturbed, save for the reception of the departed from the world--for him whose friends claimed that there “the servant should be free from his master,” or for the opulent, who, in his end, was needy as the needy, and required only “a little, little grave.” Yet the very chambers of the dead were to be razed, and the remains of mortality dispersed, and a standing water was to be in their stead. The preacher, in sad remembrance, briefly, but strongly, touched on the coming demolition of the fane, and there were those among the congregation who deeply sorrowed. On the features of an elderly inhabitant opposite to me, there was a convulsive twitching, while, with his head thrown back, he watched the preacher’s lips, and the big tear sprung from his eyes; and the partner of his long life leaned forward and wept; the bosoms of their daughters rose and fell in grief; matrons and virgins sobbed; manly hearts were swollen, and strong men were bowed.
After the sermon “sixty poor children of the precinct,” for whose benefit it was preached--it was the last office that could be celebrated there in their behalf--sung a hymn to the magnificent organ, which, on the morrow, was to be pulled down. They choralled in tender tones--
“Great God, O! hear our humble song, An off’ring to thy praise, O! guard our tender youth from wrong, And keep us in thy ways!”
These were the offspring of a neighbourhood of ill fame, whence, by liberal hands, they had been plucked and preserved as brands from the burning fire. It seemed as though they were about to be scattered from the fold wherein they had been folded and kept.
While the destruction of this edifice was contemplated, the purpose gave rise to remonstrance; but resistance was quelled by the applications, which are usually successful in such cases. “An Earnest Appeal to the Lords and Commons in Parliament, by a Clergyman,” was ineffectually printed and circulated with the hope of preventing the act. This little tract says:--
“The collegiate body to whom the church and precinct pertain, and who have not _always_ been so insensible to the nobler principles they now abandon, owe their origin to Maud, wife of king Stephen--their present constitution to Eleanor, wife of king Henry III.--and their exemption from the general dissolution in the time of Henry VIII. to the attractions (it is said) of Anne Boleyn. The queens’ consort have from the first been patronesses, and on a vacancy of the crown matrimonial, the kings of England. The fabric for which, in default of its retained advocates, I have ventured now to plead, is of the age of king Edward III., lofty and well-proportioned, rich in ancient carving, adorned with effigies of a Holland, a Stafford, a Montacute, all allied to the blood royal, and in spite of successive mutilations is well able to plead for itself: surely then, for its own sake, as well as for the general interests involved in its preservation, it is not too much to ask, that it may, at least, be confronted with those who wish its destruction--that its obscure location may not cause its condemnation unseen--that no one will pass sentence who has not visited the spot, and that, having so done, he will suffer the unbiassed dictates of his own heart to decide.”
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FLORAL DIRECTORY.
Mixen Agaric. _Agaricus fimetarius._ Dedicated to _St. Marcellus_.
~October 31.~
_St. Quintin_, A. D. 287. _St. Wolfgang_, Bp. of Ratisbon, A. D. 994. _St. Foillan_, A. D. 655.
ALLHALLOW EVEN; or, HALLOW E’EN.
Respecting this, which is the vigil of All Saints-day, Mr. Brand has collected many notices of customs; to him therefore we are indebted for the following particulars:--
On this night young people in the north of England dive for apples, or catch at them, when stuck upon one end of a kind of hanging beam, at the other extremity of which is fixed a lighted candle. This they do with their mouths only, their hands being tied behind their backs. From the custom of flinging nuts into the fire, or cracking them with their teeth, it has likewise obtained the name of _nutcrack night_. In an ancient illuminated missal in Mr. Douce’s collection, a person is represented balancing himself upon a pole laid across two stools; at the end of the pole is a lighted candle, from which he is endeavouring to light another in his hand, at the risk of tumbling into a tub of water placed under him. A writer, about a century ago, says, “This is the last day of October, and the birth of this packet is partly owing to the affair of _this night_. I am alone; but the servants having demanded _apples_, _ale_, and _nuts_, I took the opportunity of running back my own annals of _Allhallows Eve_; for you are to know, my lord, that I have been a mere adept, a most famous artist, both in the college and country, on occasion of _this anile, chimerical solemnity_.”[365]
Pennant says, that the young women in Scotland determine the figure and size of their husbands by _drawing cabbages blind-fold_ on Allhallow Even, and, like the English, _fling nuts into the fire_. It is mentioned by Burns, in a note to his poem on “Hallow E’en,” that “The first ceremony of Hallow E’en is pulling each a stock or plant of kail. They must go out, hand in hand, with eyes shut, and pull the first they meet with. Its being big or little, straight or crooked, is prophetic of the size and shape of the grand object of all their spells--the husband or wife. If any _yird_, or earth, stick to the root, that is _tocher_, or fortune; and the taste of the _custoc_, that is the heart of the stem, is indicative of the natural temper and disposition. Lastly, the stems, or, to give them their ordinary appellation, the _runts_, are placed somewhere above the head of the door; and the christian names of the people whom chance brings into the house, are, according to the priority of placing the _runts_, the names in question.” It appears that the Welsh have “a play in which the youth of both sexes seek for an even-leaved sprig of the ash: and the first of either sex that finds one, calls out Cyniver, and is answered by the first of the other that succeeds; and these two, if the omen fails not, are to be joined in wedlock.”[366]
Burns says, that “Burning the nuts is a favourite charm. They name the lad and lass to each particular nut, as they lay them in the fire; and accordingly as they burn quietly together, or start from beside one another, the course and issue of the courtship will be.” It is to be noted, that in Ireland, when the young women would know if their lovers are faithful, they put three nuts upon the bars of the grates, naming the nuts after the lovers. If a nut cracks or jumps, the lover will prove unfaithful; if it begins to blaze or burn, he has a regard for the person making the trial. If the nuts, named after the girl and her lover, burn together, they will be married. This sort of divination is also in some parts of England at this time. Gay mentions it in his “Spell:”--
“Two hazel nuts I threw into the flame, And to each nut I gave a sweet-heart’s name: This with _the loudest bounce_ me sore amaz’d, That in a _flame of brightest colour_ blaz’d; As _blaz’d the nut_, so _may thy passion grow_, For t’was thy nut that did so brightly glow!”
There are some lines by Charles Graydon, Esq.--“On Nuts burning, Allhallows Eve.”
“These glowing nuts are emblems true Of what in human life we view; The ill-match’d couple fret and fume, And thus, in strife themselves consume, Or, from each other wildly start, And with a noise for ever part. But see the happy happy pair, Of genuine love and truth sincere; With mutual fondness, while they burn, Still to each other kindly turn: And as the vital sparks decay Together gently sink away: Till life’s fierce ordeal being past. Their mingled ashes rest at last.”[367]
Burns says, “the passion of prying into futurity makes a striking part of the history of human nature, in its rude state, in all ages and nations; and it maybe some entertainment to a philosophic mind to see the remains of it among the more unenlightened in our own.” He gives, therefore, the principal charms and spells of this night among the peasantry in the west of Scotland. One of these by young women, is, by pulling stalks of corn. “They go to the barn yard, and pull, each, at three several times, a stalk of oats. If the third stalk wants the top-pickle, that is, the grain at the top of the stalk, the party in question will come to the marriage bed any thing but a maid.” Another is by the _blue clue_. “Whoever would, with success, try this spell, must strictly observe these directions: steal out, all alone, to the kiln, and, darkling, throw into the pot a clew of blue yarn; wind it in a new clew off the old one; and, towards the latter end, something will hold the thread; demand, ‘wha hauds?’ _i. e._ who holds? and answer will be returned from the kiln-pot, by naming the christian and surname of your future spouse.” A third charm is by eating an apple at a glass. “Take a candle and go alone to a looking-glass; eat an apple before it, and some traditions say, you should comb your hair all the time; the face of your conjugal companion _to be_, will be seen in the glass, as if peeping over your shoulder.”
In an appendix to the late Mr. “Pennant’s Tour,” several other very observable and perfectly new customs of divination on this night are enumerated. One is to “steal out unperceived, and sow a handful of hemp-seed, harrowing it with any thing you can conveniently draw after you. Repeat, now and then, ‘hemp-seed I saw thee, hemp-seed I saw thee; and him (or her) that is to be my true, come after me and pou thee.’ Look over your left shoulder and you will see the appearance of the person invoked, in the attitude of pulling hemp. Some traditions say, ‘come after me and shaw thee,’ that is, show thyself; in which case it simply appears. Others omit the harrowing, and say, ‘come after me and harrow thee.’”
Another is, “to winn three wechts o’naething.” The wecht is the instrument used in winnowing corn. “This charm must likewise be performed unperceived and alone. You go to the barn and open both doors, taking them off the hinges, if possible: for there is danger that the _being_, about to appear, may shut the doors and do you some mischief. Then take that instrument used in winnowing the corn, which, in our country dialect, we call a _wecht_, and go through all the attitudes of letting down corn against the wind. Repeat it three times; and, the third time, an apparition will pass through the barn, in at the windy door, and out at the other, having both the figure in question, and the appearance or retinue marking the employment or station in life.”
Then there is “to fathom the stack three times.” “Take an opportunity of going unnoticed to a _bear stack_ (barley stack), and fathom it three times round. The last fathom of the last time, you will catch in your arms the appearance of your future conjugal yokefellow.” Another, “to dip your left shirt sleeve in a burn where three lairds’ lands meet.” “You go out, one or more, for this is a social spell, to a south-running spring or rivulet, where ‘three lairds’ lands meet,’ and dip your left shirt sleeve. Go to bed in sight of a fire, and hang your wet sleeve before it to dry. Lie awake; and some time near midnight, an apparition, having the exact figure of the grand object in question, will come and turn the sleeve, as if to dry the other side of it.”
The last is a singular species of divination “with three _luggies_, or dishes.” “Take three dishes; put clean water in one, foul water in another, and leave the third empty: blindfold a person, and lead him to the hearth where the dishes are ranged: he (or she) dips the left hand, if by chance in the clean water, the future husband or wife will come to the bar of matrimony a maid; if in the foul, a widow; if in the empty dish, it foretells with equal certainty no marriage at all. It is repeated three times: and every time the arrangement of the dishes is altered.” Sir Frederick Morton Eden says, that “_Sowens_, with butter instead of milk, is not only the Hallow E’en supper, but the Christmas and New-year’s-day’s breakfast, in many parts of Scotland.”[368]
In the province of Moray, in Scotland, “A solemnity was kept on the eve of the first of November as a thanksgiving for the safe in-gathering of the produce of the fields. This I am told, but have not seen; it is observed in Buchan and other countries, by having Hallow Eve fire kindled on some rising ground.”[369]
In Ireland fires were anciently lighted up on the four great festivals of the Druids, but at this time they have dropped the fire of November, and substituted candles. The Welsh still retain the fire of November, but can give no reason for the illumination.[370]