Part 102
In the course of a little time, John Duddlestone took his wife behind him to London, and, with the assistance of the card, found easy admittance to the prince, and by him they were introduced to the queen, who invited them to an approaching dinner, informing them that they must have new clothes for the occasion, allowing them to choose for themselves. Each therefore chose _purple velvet_, such as the prince had then on, which was accordingly provided for them, and in that dress they were introduced by the queen herself, as the most loyal persons in the city of Bristol, and the only ones in that city who had invited the prince her husband to their house; and after the entertainment, the queen, desiring _him_ to kneel down, laid a sword on his head, and (to use lady Duddlestone’s own words) said to him, “_Ston up, sir Jan_.”
Sir “Jan” was offered money, or a place under government, but he did not choose to accept of either, informing the queen that he had “_fifty pounds_ out at use,” and he apprehended that the number of people he saw about her must be very expensive. The queen, however, made lady Duddlestone a present of her gold watch from her side, which “my lady” considered as no small ornament, when she went to market, suspended _over a blue apron_.
I first found this interesting account in “Corry’s History of Bristol,” which was published a few years ago; but whence it was derived that author does not mention. As the editor of the _Table Book_ is equally uninformed, perhaps some of his correspondents may be able to point out its origin; and, if it be authentic, communicate some particulars respecting the worthy knight and his dame.
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~Discoveries~
OF THE
ANCIENTS AND MODERNS.
No. VI.
THE CORPUSCULAR PHILOSOPHY.
The two illustrious moderns, Newton and Gassendi, attribute the continual change which happens in bodies to the different figure and magnitude of their minute corpuscles; and affirm, that their different junction or separation, and the variety of their arrangement, constitute the differences of bodies. This corpuscular philosophy can be traced from the times of Democritus, to its founder Moschus the Phœnician. It does not appear that the Phœnician school admitted the indivisibility of atoms; whereas, Leucippus, Democritus, and Epicurus did. And so the philosophers in all ages, down to the Cartesians and Newtonians, admit the same. Aristotle, as great in metaphysics as able in mathematics, treats of it in his works of both kinds. A modern proposition respecting it has been deemed new, although anciently it was expressed in almost the very same terms.
The Newtonians say, “that the smallest parcel of matter is able to cover the largest extent of space, by the number of parts into which it may be divided; and that without so much as leaving any one pore of the smallest dimension uncovered.” Anaxagoras had previously said, that each body, of whatever size, was infinitely divisible; insomuch, that a particle so small as the half of the foot of the minutest insect, might furnish out of itself parts sufficient for covering an hundred million of worlds, without ever becoming exhaustible as to the number of its parts. Democritus expressed the like proposition, when he affirmed that it was “possible to make a world out of an atom.” Chrysippus says the same, when he maintains that a drop of wine may be divided into a number of parts, each of itself sufficient to mingle with all the small particles of the ocean.
MOTION--ITS ACCELERATION--THE FALL OF BODIES.
The ancients, as well as the moderns, define _motion_ to be change of place, or the passing from one place to another; they knew the acceleration of bodies in falling, but not so exactly as to determine its law or cause. It was an axiom of Aristotle and the Peripatetics, that a body in falling acquired a celerity of motion, proportionable to its distance from the place whence the motion began; but they knew not that this increase of the celerity of falling bodies was uniform, and that the spaces passed over in equal times increased proportionably to the unequal numbers 1, 3, 5, 7, &c. Two mistakes of Aristotle hindered him from arriving at the truth. The first was, that there were two tendencies in body; one downwards, carrying it to the centre, in those that were heavy; the other upwards, removing it from it, in those that were light. His second error was, that he thought different bodies rolled through space with a celerity proportional to their masses. He did not consider that the resistance of the medium was the only cause of this difference; for supposing them to move through an irresisting medium, or in _vacuo_, the lightest bodies would then fall with the same velocity as the heaviest. This is demonstrated by means of the air-pump, wherein paper, lead, and gold, descend with equal swiftness.
Yet all the ancients were not thus ignorant. Lucretius, instructed in the principles of Democritus and Epicurus, arrived at this knowledge, and supports it by such arguments, as might do honour to the most experienced naturalist of our times.--“Admitting that there was nothing in the vacuum to resist the motion of bodies, it necessarily followed, that the lightest would descend with a celerity equal to the weightiest; that where there was no resistance in the medium, bodies must always move through equal spaces in equal times; but that the case would be different in such mediums, as opposed divers degrees of resistance to the bodies passing through them.” Hereupon, he alleges the very same reasonings which Galileo draws from experience to support his theory. He says, that “the difference of velocities ought to increase or abate, according to the difference of resistance in the medium; and that because air and water resist bodies differently, they fall through these mediums with different degrees of velocity.” We shall presently see, that the ancients were acquainted with the principle of _gravitation_.
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GRASSINGTON THEATRICALS.
_To the Editor._
Dear sir,--When I sent you the sketch of “Tom Airay” of this place, and his associates, I was not aware that the practice of acting plays was a very ancient one in the parish of Linton, (in which this place is.) The following extract from Whitaker’s history will prove this to have been the case, and that Airay was “the last of a bright band.” It will doubtless be perused with interest by many of the inhabitants of Craven, very few of whom I am inclined to think know of the circumstance. Whitaker’s history is an expensive work, and only in the hands of a few.
“Many of these amusements were long after in use at Linton. But the most popular of their amusements was the practice of acting old plays, continued, I have no doubt, from the old ‘Kirk Sights,’ and clerk plays, though I can trace it in Craven no farther than 1606, where I find the following article in the accounts of Francis, earl of Cumberland:--
“‘Item, paid to the yonge men of the town, (Skipton,) being his l’ps tenants and servants, to fit them for acting plays this Christmas, IIII_s._’
“In the interval of a century from this time, it does not seem that they had much improved their stock of dramas; for, within the recollection of old persons with whom I have conversed, one of their favourite performances was ‘The Iron Age,’ by Heywood, a poet of the reign of James I., whose work, long since become scarce, and almost forgotten, had probably been handed down from father to son, through all that period. But in every play, whether tragedy or comedy, the _Vice_ constituted one of the _dramatis personæ_, and was armed, as of old, with a sword of lath, and habited in a loose party-coloured dress, with a fur-cap, and fox’s brush behind. In some parts of Craven these personages were called clowns, as in Shakspeare’s time, and too often and too successfully attempted to excite a laugh by ribaldry and nonsense of their own; a practice which is very properly reprehended in Hamlet.
“In the ‘Destruction of Troy’ this personage easily united with Thersites; but he was often found in situations where his appearance was very incongruous, as ex. gr. in ‘George Barnwell.’ These rustic actors had neither stage nor scenes, but performed in a large room, what is called the ‘house,’[331] of an ordinary dwelling.
“Sometimes they fabricated a kind of rude drama for themselves; in which case, as it is not likely that the plot would be very skilfully developed, the performers entered one by one, and each uttered a short metrical prologue, which they very properly chose to call a fore-speech. For why should these honest Englishmen be indebted to the Grecian stage for the word prologue, when they were certainly beholden to it for nothing else?
“In these fabrications, I believe, the subjects were frequently taken from printed plays; but the texture was of very inferior workmanship. For this I must beg my reader to give me credit; though, if all readers had the same relish for what, in the language of dulness, is called low, with Dr. Farmer and Mr. Warton, I could excite more than a smile by their travestie of the ‘Merchant of Venice.’ An old inhabitant of this place, (Linton,) whom I well knew, had the reputation of a dramatic manufacturer, though he had, in reality, no talents beyond those of an actor. But his fame drew upon him an awkward application; which, as the stated price of these services was three half crowns, he parried very dexterously by demanding half a guinea. Thus much for the chapter of amusements.”
In mentioning Airay’s stage companions I forgot to name Sim Coates, one of the principal. He was a club-footed man, and used to perform the “Fair Penitent!” He is lately dead.
I am, &c.
_Grassington in Craven,_
_T. Q. M._
_Aug. 1, 1827._
[331] So is a _kitchen_ called in the Craven dialect.
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THE GIN ACT--NAMES OF DRAMS.
On the 29th of September, 1736, when the bill against spirituous liquors took place, several people at Norwich, Bristol, and other places, as well as at London, made themselves very merry on the “Death of Madam Gin,” and some of both sexes got soundly drunk at her “funeral,” for which the mob made a formal procession, but committed no outrage.
A double guard for some days mounted at Kensington; the guard at St. James’s, and the horse-guards at Whitehall, were reinforced; a guard was placed at the Rolls Office, Chancery-lane; and a detachment of the life and horse grenadier guards paraded in Covent Garden, &c. in order to suppress any tumult that might happen at the going down of spirituous liquors.
Several of the distillers took out licenses to sell wine, others made preparations to take to the brewing-trade, and some went down to Oxford and Cambridge to open taverns there. The accounts of that period state, that the university of Oxford intended to try their right with them; the privilege of licensing vintners having been granted to it by a charter of Henry VIII., and afterwards confirmed by an act of parliament in 13 Elizabeth.
The distillers and others in different parts of the town sold a liquor, which seems to have been wine, with spices infused therein; and several continuing to sell spirituous liquors contrary to the act, informations were laid against them to the commissioners of excise.
Drams under the following names were sold at several brandy-shops in High Holborn, St. Giles’s, Tothill-street, Rosemary-lane, Shoreditch, the Mint, Kent-street, &c. viz. “Sangree,” “Tow Row,” “Cuckold’s Comfort,” “Parliament Gin,” “Bob,” “Make Shift,” “The Last Shift,” “The Ladies’ Delight,” “The Balk,” “King Theodore of Corsica,” “Cholick and Gripe Waters.” These denominations were with a view to evade the late act.
On the 14th of October, 1736, there came on before the commissioners of excise the trials of Mr. Robert Kirkpatrick, surgeon and apothecary in Turnmill-street, and Mr. John Thomas, chymist at Shoreditch, on informations for retailing spirituous liquors, contrary to the intent and meaning of the act; and they were both found guilty. The penalty was one hundred pounds each.
G. K.
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A YOUNG POET’S OWN EPITAPH.
A few weeks before John Keats died of decline, at Rome, a gentleman, who was sitting by his bedside, spoke of an inscription to his memory. Keats desired that there should be no mention of his name or country. “If there be any thing,” he said, “let it be, _Here lies the body of one whose name was writ in water_.”
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_For the Table Book._
TIME.
Oh Time, that ever with resistless wing Cuts off our joys and shortens all our pain, Thou great destroyer that doth always bring Relief to man--all bow beneath thy reign; Nations before thee fall, and the grim king Of death and terror follows in thy train. Thou bring’st the cup of Lethe to the mind, Which else on earth no joy could ever find.
Little in youth we think upon thy flight, Nor catch the lesson of each passing day, Till, when too late, it bursts upon our sight, And thou hast crowned us with thy cap of grey: Our friends for ever fled, and all the light That gilded this dim world hath passed away On to eternity--thro’ that sad portal Which parts us, and assures us man is mortal.
Thou teachest us the vanity of earth. With which, in spite of thee, we are delighted, And lead’st us quickly onward from our birth Unto old age, then leav’st us there benighted; Where all our earthly pleasures, joys, and mirth Fade fast away, like young leaves seared and blighted. And hope, that lured us onward, then, we find, Was but an _ignis fatuus_ of the mind.
S.
* * * * *
HACKERSTON’S COW.
This is a Scotch proverb, the application of which may be inferred from the following account of its origin. A tenant of lord Hackerston, who was one of the judges of the court of session, one day waited on his lordship with a woful countenance. “My lord,” said he, “I am come to inform your lordship of a sad misfortune, my cow has gored one of your lordship’s cows, so that I fear it cannot live.”--“Well, then, you must pay for it.”--“Indeed, my lord, it was not my fault, and you know I am a very poor man.”--“I can’t help that, I say you must pay for it; I am not to lose my cow.”--“Well, my lord, if it must be so I cannot say against your lordship,--but stop, my lord, I believe I have made a mistake, it was your lordship’s cow that gored mine.” “O! that is quite a different affair,--go along and don’t trouble me, I am busy--go along, I say.”
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ROPE-RIDING ON HORSEBACK, ON ST. MARK’S DAY AT VENICE.
The gaiety and splendour exhibited in the place of St. Mark at Venice on this anniversary, is extremely attractive. Formerly, among the remarkable customs in honour of this the patron saint of the city, it was usual for a man to ascend and descend a rope stretched from the summit of St. Mark’s tower, and secured at a considerable distance from the base.
On the last day of February, 1680, the doge, the senate, and the imperial ambassador, with about fifty thousand spectators, beheld the annual solemnity. In the first place appeared certain butchers, in their roast-meat clothes; one of which, with a Persian scimitar, cut off the heads of three oxen, one after another, at one blow, to the admiration of the beholders, who had never seen the like either in Venice, or any other part of the world. But that which caused greater wonder was this:--A person, adorned in a tinsel riding habit, having a gilt helmet upon his head, and holding in his right hand a lance, in his left a helmet made of a thin piece of plate gilded, and sitting upon a white horse, with a swift pace ambled up a rope six hundred feet long, fastened from the quay to the top of St. Mark’s tower. When he had arrived half way, his tinsel coat fell off, and he made a stand, and stooping his lance submissively, saluted the doge sitting in the palace, and flourished the banner three times over his head. Then, resuming his former speed, he went on, and, with his horse, entered the tower where the bell hangs; and presently returning on foot, he climbed up to the highest pinnacle of the tower; where, sitting on the golden angel, he flourished his banner again several times. This performed, he descended to the bell-tower; and there taking horse, rode down again to the bottom in like manner as he had ascended.[332]
“Whoever,” says Mrs. Piozzi, “sees St. Mark’s Place lighted up of an evening, adorned with every excellence of human art, and pregnant with pleasure, expressed by intelligent countenances sparkling with every grace of nature--the sea washing its walls--the moon-beams dancing on its subjugated waves--sport and laughter resounding from the coffee-houses--girls with guitars skipping about the square--masks and merry-makers singing as they pass you--unless a barge with a band of music is heard at some distance upon the water, and calls attention to sounds made sweeter by the element over which they are brought;--whoever is led suddenly,” says Mrs. Piozzi, “to this scene of seemingly perennial gaiety, will be apt to exclaim in Venice, as Eve does to Adam in Milton,
With thee conversing, I forget all time, All seasons, and their change--all please alike!”
[332] Malcolm’s Manners of Europe.
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REV MR. WILSON, THE MAN IN THE MOON.
It will now give pain to no one, if I notice Mr. Wilson, formerly curate of Halton Gill, near Skipton in Craven, and father of the late Rev. Edward Wilson, canon of Windsor. He wrote a tract, entitled “The Man in the Moon,” which was seriously meant to convey the knowledge of common astronomy in the following strange vehicle:
A cobbler, Israel Jobson by name, is supposed to ascend first to the top of Pennigint; and thence, as a second stage equally practicable, to the moon! after which he makes a tour of the whole solar system. From this excursion, however, the traveller brings back little information which might not have been had upon earth, excepting that the inhabitants of one of the planets, I forget which, were made of “pot metal.” The work contains some other extravagancies; but the writer, after all, was a man of talent, and has abundantly shown that had he been blessed with a sound mind and a superior education, he would have been capable of much better things. If I had the book before me I could quote single sentences here and there, which in point of composition rise to no mean degree of excellence. It is rarely to be met with, having, as I am told, been industriously bought up by his family. I have only seen one copy, and my recollection of what I read in it is not very particular.[333]
Mr. Wilson had also good mechanical hands, and carved well in wood, a talent which he applied to several whimsical purposes. But his _chef-d’œuvre_ was an oracular head, like that of friar Bacon and the disciple of the famous Escotillo, with which he diverted himself and amazed his neighbours, till a certain reverend wiseacre threatened to complain of the poor man to his metropolitan as an enchanter! After this the oracle was mute.[334]
[333] Could any reader of the _Table Book_ forward a copy?--ED.
[334] Rev. Dr. Whitaker’s History of Craven.
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SUMMER SHOWERS--SCORCHED LEAVES.
In the summer, after some days of fine weather, during the heat of the day, if a storm happens, accompanied with a few light showers of rain, and the sun appears immediately after with its usual splendour, it burns the foliage and the flowers on which the rain had fallen, and destroys the hopes of the orchard. The intense heat, which the ardour of the sun produces at that time on the leaves and flowers, is equal to that of burning iron. Naturalists have sought for the cause of this strange effect, but they have said nothing which satisfies a reasonable mind. This is, however, the fact: in the serene days of the summer it is visible that there gathers on the foliage and the flowers, as, indeed, on every other part, a little dust, sometimes more and sometimes less, scattered by the wind. When the rain falls on this dust, the drops mix together, and take an oval or round form, as we may frequently observe in our houses on the dusty floor, when servants scatter water before they sweep. These globes of water form convex lenses, which produce the same effect as burning mirrors. Should the rain be heavy and last long, the sun would not produce this burning heat, because the force and duration of the rain will have destroyed the dust that formed these drops of water; and the drops, losing their globular form, in which alone consisted their caustic power, will be dispersed.[335]
[335] Peter Huet.
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ROYAL SUMMER-HOUSE, IN SIAM.
The king of Siam has in one of his country palaces a most singular pavilion. The tables, the chairs, the closets, &c. are all composed of crystal. The walls, the ceiling, and the floors, are formed of pieces of plate glass, of about an inch thick, and six feet square, so nicely united by a cement, which is as transparent as glass itself, that the most subtile fluid cannot penetrate. There is but one door, which shuts so closely, that it is as impenetrable to the water as the rest of this singular building. A Chinese engineer constructed it thus as a certain remedy against the insupportable heat of the climate. This pavilion is twenty-eight feet in length, and seventeen in breadth; it is placed in the midst of a great basin, paved and ornamented with marble of various colours. They fill this basin with water in about a quarter of an hour, and it is emptied as quickly. When you enter the pavilion the door is immediately closed, and cemented with mastic, to hinder the water from entering; it is then that they open the sluices; and this great basin is soon filled with water, which is even suffered to overflow the land; so that the pavilion is entirely under water, except the top of the dome, which is left untouched for the benefit of respiration. Nothing is more charming than the agreeable coolness of this delicious place, while the extreme heat of the sun boils the surface of the freshest fountains.[336]
[336] Furetiere.
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SPANISH PUNCTILIO.
On occasion of the decease of the queen mother of Spain in 1696, the Paris papers gravely relate the following particulars of a dispute respecting precedence.
The officers of the crown and the grandees of the kingdom assembled at the usual time to open her majesty’s will; but finding that the first lady of the queen’s chamber, who ought by virtue of her office to have been present, was absent, the august body sent a messenger, requesting her attendance. The first lady, deeming the message a gross attack upon her privileges and high importance, indignantly replied, that it was her indispensable duty not to leave her deceased royal mistress, and therefore the nobles must wait on her.