Part 13
The cultivation of plants commences with our infancy. If estranged from it by the pursuits of active life, yet, during a few years’ retirement from the “great hum” of a noisy world, we naturally recur to a garden as to an old and cheerful friend whom we had forgotten or neglected, and verify the saying, “once a man, and twice a child.” There is not “one of woman born” without a sense of pleasure when she sees buds bursting into leaf; earth yielding green shoots from germs in its warm bosom; white fruit-blossoms, tinted with rose-blushes, standing out in clumps from slender branches; flowers courting the look by their varied loveliness, and the smell by their delicacy; large juicy apples bowing down the almost tendril-shoots wherefrom they miraculously spring; plants of giant growth with multiform shrubs beyond, and holly-hocks towering like painted pinnacles from hidden shrines:
Can imagination boast, ’Mid all its gay creation, _charms_ like these?
Dr. Forster, the scientific author of a treatise on “Atmospheric Phenomena,” and other valuable works, has included numerous useful observations on the weather in his recently published “Perennial Calendar,” a volume replete with instruction and entertainment. He observes, in the latter work, that after certain atmospheric appearances on this day in the year 1809, “a hard and freezing shower of hail and sleet came with considerable violence from the east, and glazed every thing on which it fell with ice; it incrusted the walls, encased the trees and the garments of people, and even the plumage of birds, so that many rooks and other fowls were found lying on the ground, stiff with an encasement of ice. Such weather,” Dr. Forster observes, “has been aptly described by Philips as occurring oftentimes during a northern winter:--
Ere yet the clouds let fall the treasured snow, Or winds begun through hazy skies to blow, At evening a keen eastern breeze arose, And the descending rain unsullied froze. Soon as the silent shades of night withdrew, The ruddy morn disclosed at once to view The face of Nature in a rich disguise, And brightened every object to my eyes; For every shrub, and every blade of grass, And every pointed thorn, seemed wrought in glass, In pearls and rubies rich the hawthorns show, While through the ice the crimson berries glow, The thick-sprung reeds the watery marshes yield Seem polished lances in a hostile field. The stag in limpid currents, with surprise, Sees crystal branches on his forehead rise. The spreading oak, the beech, and tow’ring pine, Glaz’d over, in the freezing ether shine. The frighted birds the rattling branches shun, That wave and glitter in the distant sun. When, if a sudden gust of wind arise, The brittle forest into atoms flies; The cracking wood beneath the tempest bends, And in a spangled shower the prospect ends.
_Philips, Lett. from Copenhagen._
“It may be observed, that in both the above descriptions of similar phenomena, the east wind is recorded as bringing up the storm. There is something very remarkably unwholesome in east winds and a change to that quarter often disturbs the nervous system and digestive organs of many persons, causing head-aches, fevers, and other disorders. Moreover, a good astronomical observation cannot be made when the wind is east: the star seems to oscillate or dance about in the field of the telescope.”
In the truth of these observations as regards health, he who writes this is unhappily qualified to concur from experience; and were it in his power, would ever shun the _north-east_ as his most fearful enemy.
Sir, the north-east, more fierce than Russian cold, Pierces the very marrow in the bones, Presses upon the brain an arid weight, And superflows life’s current with a force That checks the heart, and soul, and mind, and strength, In all their purposes.---- Up with the double window-sashes--quick! Close every crevice from the withering blast, And stop the keyhole tight--the wind-fiend comes!
*
~January 20.~
_St. Fabian_, Pope. _St. Sebastian._ _St. Enthymius._ _St. Fechin._
_St. Fabian._
This saint is in the church of England calendar; he was bishop of Rome, A. D. 250: the Romish calendar calls him pope.
_St. Sebastian’s Day_
Is noted in Doblada’s Letters from Spain, as within the period that ushers in the carnival with rompings in the streets, and vulgar mirth.
“The custom alluded to by Horace of sticking a tail, is still practised by the boys in the streets, to the great annoyance of old ladies, who are generally the objects of this sport. One of the ragged striplings that wander in crowds about Seville, having tagged a piece of paper with a hooked pin, and stolen unperceived behind some slow-paced female, as wrapt up in her veil, she tells the beads she carries in her left hand, fastens the paper-tail on the back of the black or walking petticoat called Saya. The whole gang of ragamuffins, who, at a convenient distance, have watched the dexterity of their companion, set up a loud cry of ‘Làrgalo, làrgalo’--‘Drop it, drop it’--this makes every female in the street look to the rear, which, they well know, is the fixed point of attack with the merry light-troops. The alarm continues till some friendly hand relieves the victim of sport, who, spinning and nodding like a spent top, tries in vain to catch a glance at the fast-pinned paper, unmindful of the physical law which forbids her head revolving faster than the great orbit on which the ominous comet flies.”
ST. AGNES’ EVE
Formerly this was a night of great import to maidens who desired to know who they should marry. Of such it was required, that they should not eat on this day, and those who conformed to the rule, called it fasting St. Agnes’ fast.
And on sweet St. Agnes’ night Please you with the promis’d sight, Some of husbands, some of lovers, Which an empty dream discovers.
BEN JONSON.
Old Aubrey has a recipe, whereby a lad or lass was to attain a sight of the fortunate lover. “Upon St. Agnes’ night you take a row of pins, and pull out every one, one after another, saying a Pater Noster, sticking a pin in your sleeve, and you will dream of him or her you shall marry.”
Little is remembered of these homely methods for knowing “all about sweethearts,” and the custom would scarcely have reached the greater number of readers, if one of the sweetest of our modern poets had not preserved its recollection in a delightful poem. Some stanzas are culled from it, with the hope that they may be read by a few to whom the poetry of Keats is unknown, and awaken a desire for further acquaintance with his beauties:--
_The Eve of St. Agnes._
St. Agnes’ Eve? Ah, bitter chill it was! The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold; The hare limp’d trembling through the frozen grass, And silent was the flock in woolly fold.
* * * * *
They told her how, upon St. Agnes’ Eve, Young virgins might have visions of delight, And soft adorings from their loves receive Upon the honey’d middle of the night, If ceremonies due they did aright; As, supperless to bed they must retire, And couch supine their beauties, lily white; Nor look behind, nor sideways, but require Of Heaven with upward eyes for all that they desire.
* * * * *
Full of this whim was thoughtful Madeline
* * * * *
Out went the taper as she hurried in; Its little smoke, in pallid moonshine, died: She clos’d the door, she panted, all akin To spirits of the air, and visions wide No uttered syllable, or, woe betide! But to her heart, her heart was voluble, Paining with eloquence her balmy side; As though a tongueless nightingale should swell Her throat in vain, and die, heart-stifled, in her dell.
A casement high and triple arch’d there was, All garlanded with carven imag’ries Of fruits, and flowers, and bunches of knot grass, And diamonded with panes of quaint device Innumerable of stains and splendid dyes, As are the tiger-moth’s deep damask’d wings; And in the midst, ’mong thousand heraldries, And twilight saints, with dim emblazonings, A shielded ’scutcheon blush’d with blood of queens and kings,
Full on this casement shone the wintry moon, And threw warm gules on Madeline’s fair breast, As down she knelt for Heaven’s grace and boon; Rose-bloom fell on her hands, together prest, And on her silver cross soft amethyst, And on her hair a glory, like a saint: She seem’d a splendid angel, newly drest, Save wings, for Heaven:--
* * * * *
Her vespers done Of all its wreathed pearls her hair she frees; Unclasps her warmed jewels one by one; Loosens her fragrant boddice; by degrees Her rich attire creeps rustling to her knees Half-hidden, like a mermaid in sea-weed, Pensive awhile she dreams awake, and sees, In fancy, fair St. Agnes in her bed, But dares not look behind, or all the charm is fled.
Soon, trembling in her soft and chilly nest, In sort of wakeful swoon, perplex’d she lay, Until the poppied warmth of sleep oppress’d Her soothed limbs, and soul fatigued away; Flown, like a thought, until the morrow day; Blissfully haven’d both from joy and pain; Clasp’d like a missal where swart Paynims pray; Blinded alike from sunshine and from rain, As though a rose should shut, and be a bud again.
Stol’n to this paradise, and so extranced, Porphyro gazed upon her empty dress, And listened to her breathing.--------- ------------------- Shaded was her dream By the dusk curtains:--’twas a midnight charm Impossible to melt as iced stream:--
* * * * *
He took her hollow lute,-- Tumultuous,--and, in chords that tenderest be, He play’d an ancient ditty, long since mute, In Provence call’d, “La belle dame sans mercy:” Close to her ear touching the melody;-- Wherewith disturb’d, she utter’d a soft moan: He ceas’d--she panted quick--and suddenly Her blue affrayed eyes wide open shone: Upon his knees he sank, pale as smooth-sculptured stone.
Her eyes were open, but she still beheld, Now wide awake, the vision of her sleep: There was a painful change, that nigh expell’d The blisses of her dream so pure and deep, At which fair Madeline began to weep, And moan forth witless words with many a sigh, While still her gaze on Porphyro would keep; Who knelt, with joined hands and piteous eye, Fearing to move or speak, she look’d so dreamingly.
“Ah, Porphyro!” said she, “but even now “Thy voice was at sweet tremble in mine ear, “Made tuneable with every sweetest vow; “And those sad eyes were spiritual and clear: “How chang’d thou art! how pallid, chill, and drear “Give me that voice again, my Porphyro, “Those looks immortal, those complainings dear? “Oh, leave me not in this eternal woe, “For if thou diest, my love, I know not where to go.”
Beyond a mortal man impassion’d far At these voluptuous accents, he arose, Ethereal, flush’d, and like a throbbing star, Seen ’mid the sapphire heaven’s deep repose, Into her dream he melted, as the rose Blendeth its odour with the violet,-- Solution sweet: meantime the frost-wind blows Like Love’s alarum pattering the sharp sleet Against the window-panes.
* * * * *
“Hark! ’tis an elfin-storm from faery land, “Of haggard seeming, but a boon indeed: “Arise--arise! the morning is at hand;-- “Let us away, my love, with happy speed.--”
* * * * *
And they are gone: ay, ages long ago These lovers fled away into the storm.
* * * * *
FLORAL DIRECTORY.
_St. Fabian_ Large Dead Nettle. _Larnium garganicum._
~Aquarius,~
OR, THE WATER BEARER.
The sun enters Aquarius on this day, though he does not enter it in the visible zodiac until the 18th of February.
Ganymede, who succeeded Hebe as cup-bearer to Jove, is fabled to have been changed into Aquarius. Canobus of the Egyptian zodiac, who was the Neptune of the Egyptians, with a water-vase and measure, evidently prefigured this constellation. They worshipped him as the God of many breasts, from whence he replenished the Nile with fertilizing streams. Aquarius contains one hundred and eight stars, the two chief of which are about fifteen degrees in height:
His head, his shoulders, and his lucid breast, Glisten with stars; and when his urn inclines, Rivers of light brighten the watery track.
_Eudosia._
~January 21.~
_St. Agnes._ _St Fructuosus, &c._ _St. Vimin, or Vivian._ _St. Publius._ _St. Epiphanius._
_St. Agnes._
“She has always been looked upon,” says Butler, “as a special patroness of purity, with the immaculate mother of God.” According to him, she suffered martyrdom, about 304, and performed wonderful miracles before her death, which was by beheading, when she was thirteen years old; whereupon he enjoins females to a single life, as better than a married one, and says, that her anniversary “was formerly a holiday for the women in England.” Ribadeneira relates, that she was to have been burned, and was put into the fire for that purpose, but the flames, refusing to touch her, divided on each side, burnt some of the bystanders, and then quenched, as if there had been none made: a compassionate quality in fire, of which iron was not sensible, for her head was cut off at a single blow. Her legend further relates, that eight days after her death she came to her parents arrayed in white, attended by virgins with garlands of pearls, and a lamb whiter than snow; she is therefore usually represented by artists with a lamb by her side; though not, as Mr. Brand incautiously says, “in _every_ graphic representation.” It is further related, that a priest who officiated in a church dedicated to St. Agnes, was very desirous of being married. He prayed the pope’s license, who gave it him, together with an emerald ring, and commanded him to pay his addresses to the image of St. Agnes in his own church. Then the priest did so, and the image put forth her finger, and he put the ring thereon; whereupon the image drew her finger again, and kept the ring fast, and the priest was contented to remain a bachelor; “and yet, as it is sayd, the rynge is on the fynger of the ymage.”
* * * * *
In a Romish Missal printed at Paris, in 1520, there is a prayer to St. Agnes, remarkably presumptive of her powers; it is thus englished by Bp. Patrick:
Agnes, who art the Lamb’s chaste spouse, Enlighten thou our minds within; Not only lop the spreading boughs. But root out of us every sin.
O, Lady, singularly great, After this state, with grief opprest Translate us to that quiet seat Above, to triumph with the blest.
* * * * *
From Naogeorgus, we gather that in St. Agnes’ church at Rome, it was customary on St. Agnes’ Day to bring two snow-white lambs to the altar, upon which they were laid while the Agnus was singing by way of offering. These consecrated animals were afterwards shorn, and palls made from their fleeces; for each of which, it is said, the pope exacted of the bishops from eight to ten, or thirty thousand crowns, and that the custom originated with Limes, who succeeded the apostle Peter: whereupon Naogeorgus inquires,
But where was _Agnes_ at that time? who offred up, and how, The two white lambes? where then was Masse, as it is used now? Yea, where was then the Popish state, and dreadfull monarchee? Sure in Saint Austen’s time, there were no palles at Rome to see, &c.
In Jephson’s “Manners, &c. of France and Italy,” there is one dated from Rome, February, 14, 1793. That this ceremony was then in use, is evident from the following lines:--
_St. Agnes’ Shrine._
Where each pretty _Ba_-lamb most gaily appears, With ribands stuck round on its tail and its ears; On gold fringed cushions they’re stretch’d out to eat, And piously _ba_, and to church-musick bleat; Yet to me they seem’d crying, alack, and alas! What’s all this white damask to daisies and grass? Then they’re brought to the Pope, and with transport they’re kiss’d, And receive consecration from Sanctity’s fist.
_Blessing of Sheep._
Stopford, in “Pagano-Papismus,” recites this ceremony of the Romish church. The sheep were brought into the church, and the priest, having blessed some salt and water, read in one corner this gospel, “To us a child is born,” &c. with the whole office, a farthing being laid upon the book, and taken up again; in the second corner he read this gospel, “Ye men of Galilee,” &c. with the whole office, a farthing being laid upon the book, and taken up again; in the third corner he read this gospel, “I am the good shepherd,” &c. with the whole office, a farthing being laid upon the book, and taken up again; and in the fourth corner he read this gospel, “In these days,” &c. with the whole office, a farthing being laid upon the book, and taken up again. After that, he sprinkled all the sheep with holy water, saying, “Let the blessing of God, the Father Almighty, descend and remain upon you; in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” Then he signed all the sheep with the sign of the cross, repeated thrice some Latin verses, with the Paternoster and Ave-Marias, sung the mass of the Holy Ghost, and at the conclusion, an offering of fourpence was for himself, and another of threepence was for the poor. This ceremony was adopted by the Romish church from certain customs of the ancient Romans, in their worship of Pales, the goddess of sheepfolds and pastures. They prayed her to bless the sheep, and sprinkled them with water. The chief difference between the forms seems to have consisted in this, that the ancient Romans let the sheep remain in their folds, while the moderns drove them into the church.
* * * * *
FLORAL DIRECTORY.
_St. Agnes._ Christmas Rose. _Helleborus niger flore albo._
THE CROCUS.
Dainty young thing Of life!--Thou vent’rous flower, Who growest through the hard, cold bower Of wintry Spring:--
Thou various-hued, Soft, voiceless bell, whose spire Rocks in the grassy leaves like wire In solitude:--
Like Patience, thou Art quiet in thy earth. Instructing Hope that Virtue’s birth Is Feeling’s vow.
Thy fancied bride! The delicate Snowdrop, keeps Her home with thee; she wakes and sleeps Near thy true side.
Will Man but hear! A simple flower can tell What beauties in his mind, should dwell Through Passion’s sphere.
_J. R. Prior._
CHRONOLOGY.
1793. On the 21st of January, Louis XVI. was beheaded at Paris, in the thirty-ninth year of his age, and nineteenth of his reign, under circumstances which are in the recollection of many, and known to most persons. A similar instrument to the _guillotine_, the machine by which Louis XVI. was put to death, was formerly used in England. It was first introduced into France, during the revolution, by Dr. Guillotine, a physician, and hence its name.
THE HALIFAX GIBBET AND GIBBET-LAW.
The History of Halifax in Yorkshire, 12mo. 1712, sets forth “a true account of their ancient, odd, customary gibbet-law; and their particular form of trying and executing of criminals, the like not us’d in any other place in Great Britain.” The Halifax gibbet was in the form of the guillotine, and its gibbet-law quite as remarkable. The work referred to, which is more curious than rare, painfully endeavours to prove this law wise and salutary. It prevailed only within the forest of Hardwick, which was subject to the lord of the manor of Wakefield, a part of the duchy of Lancaster. If a felon were taken within the liberty of the forest with cloth, or other commodity, of the value of thirteen-pence halfpenny, he was, after three market-days from his apprehension and condemnation, to be carried to the gibbet, and there have his head cut off from his body. When first taken, he was brought to the lord’s bailiff in Halifax, who kept the town, had also the keeping of the axe, and was the executioner at the gibbet. This officer summoned a jury of frith-burghers to try him on the evidence of witnesses not upon oath: if acquitted, he was set at liberty, upon payment of his fees; if convicted, he was set in the stocks on each of the three subsequent market-days in Halifax, with the stolen goods on his back, if they were portable; if not, they were placed before his face. This was for a terror to others, and to engage any who had aught against him, to bring accusations, although after the three market-days he was sure to be executed for the offence already proved upon him. But the convict had the satisfaction of knowing, that after he was put to death, it was the duty of the coroner to summon a jury, “and sometimes the same jury that condemned him,” to inquire into the cause of his death, and that a return thereof would be made into the Crown-office; “which gracious and sage proceedings of the coroner in that matter ought, one would think, to abate, in all considering minds, that edge of acrimony which hath provoked malicious and prejudiced persons to debase this laudable and necessary custom.” So says the book. In April, 1650, Abraham Wilkinson and Anthony Mitchell were found guilty of stealing nine yards of cloth and two colts, and on the 30th of the month received sentence, “to suffer death, by having their heads severed and cut off from their bodies at Halifax gibbet,” and they suffered accordingly. These were the last persons executed under Halifax gibbet-law.
The execution was in this manner:--The prisoner being brought to the scaffold by the bailiff, the axe was drawn up by a pulley, and fastened with a pin to the side of the scaffold. “The bailiff, the jurors, and the minister chosen by the prisoner, being always upon the scaffold with the prisoner, in most solemn manner, after the minister had finished his ministerial office and christian duty, if it was a horse, an ox, or cow, &c. that was taken with the prisoner, it was thither brought along with him to the place of execution, and fastened by a cord to the pin that stay’d the block, so that when the time of the execution came, (which was known by the jurors holding up one of their hands,) the bailiff, or his servant, whipping the beast, the pin was pluck’d out, and execution done; but if there were no beast in the case, then the bailiff, or his servant, cut the rope.”