Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

The anecdotes contained in the subjoined paragraph of Sir Thomas More, who suffered for his opposition to the will of the brutal Henry, we think will prove amusing.

"Of the inexhaustible fund of humour possessed by this eminent minister, the following are remarkable instances.When he was conveyed a prisoner to the Tower, the porter having, according to an ancient custom of the place, demanded his uppermost garment as his fee, Sir Thomas presented him with his cap, telling him that that was his uppermost garment, and that he wished it was of more value.-On being led to Tower Hill, to execution, a female reproached him for detaining some deeds whilst he was in office: "My good woman," said he," have patience a little, for the King is so gracious to me, that within this half hour, he will discharge me of all my business and help thee himself."-Even at the block his accustomed levity did not forsake him. As he ascended the scaffold, he requested one of the guards to assist him, adding, "When I come down again, let me shift for myself." At the time of laying his head upon the block, the executioner begged his forgiveness: "I forgive thee," quoth he," but prithee, let me put my beard aside, for that hath never committed treason.'

How ill Sir Walter Raleigh bore the displeasure of the Queen when confined in the Tower in 1592, for his amour with the daughter of Sir Nicholas Throckmorton will be seen by the following epistles.

"He appears to have gained his liberty by the most fulsome adulation to his royal mistress. Of this, the following letter from Mr. (afterwards Sir) Arthur Gorges to Sir Robert Cecil, presents a remarkable specimen. Honourable Sir. I cannot choose but advertise you of a strange tragedy that this day had like to have fallen out between the captain of the guard and the lieutenant of the ordnance, if I had not by great chance come at the very instant to have turned it into a comedy. For upon a report of her majesty's being at Sir George Carew's,

eitezeins of London, with him: and there they metten with Jake Strawe ledere of the uprysers. And this Jake Strawe spak to the kyng hoded as it hadde bene to his felawe: and John Blyton that bar the maires swerd of London bad hym don of his hode while he spak to the kyng; wherfore Jake Strawe wax an angred, and mynte to caste his daggere to Blyton. And thanne, William Walworth maire of London, drewe his baselard and smot Jake Strawe on the hed: and with that, Rauf Standyssh, that bar the kynges swerd, roof Jake Strawe though the body with a swerd; and there he fyll doun ded.'

Sir W. Ralegh having gazed and sighed a long time at his study-window, from whence he might discern the barges and boats about the Blackfriar's stairs, suddenly he brake out into a great distemper, and sware that his enemies had on purpose brought her majesty thither to break his gall in sunder with Tantalus' torment, that when she went away he might see death before his eyes; with many such like conceits. And as a mau transported with passion, he sware to Sir George Carew, that he would disguise himself, and get into a pair of oars to ease his mind but with a sight of the Queen, or else he protested his heart would break. But the trusty jailor would none of that, for displeasing the higher powers, as he said, which he more respected than the feeding of his humour, and so flatly refused to permit him. But, in conclusion, upon this dispute they fell flat to choleric outrageous words, with straining and struggling at the doors, that all lameness was forgotten, and in the fury of the conflict, the jailor he had his new perriwig torn off his crown, and yet here the struggle ended not, for at last they had gotten out their daggers. Which when I saw, I played the stickler between them, and so purchased such a rap on the knuckles, that I wished both their pates broken; and so with much ado they stayed their brawl to see my bloody fingers. At first I was ready to break with laughing to see them two scramble and brawl like madmen, until I saw the iron walking, and then I did my best to appease their fury. As yet I cannot reconcile them by any persuasion, for Sir Walter swears, that he shall hate him, for so restraining him from the sight of his mistress, while he lives, for that he knows not (as he said) whether ever he shall see her again, when she is gone the progress. And Sir George, on his side, swears that he would rather he should lose his longing, than he would draw on him her Majesty's displeasure by such liberty. Thus they continue in malice and snarling; but I am sure all the smart lighted on me. I cannot tell whether I should more allow of the passionate lover, or the trusty jailor. But if yourself had seen it, as I did, you would have been as heartily merry and sorry, as ever you were in all your life, for so short a time. I pray you pardon my hasty written narration, which I acquaint you with, hoping you will be the peace-maker. But, good Sir, let nobody know thereof, for I fear be Orlando Furioso, if the bright Angelica Sir Walter Ralegh will shortly grow to persevere against him.'

"In a similar strain to the absurdities

recounted in the preceding narrative, is an epistolatory effusion written by Sir Walter from the Tower, to Sir Robert Cecil, with a view that it should be shewn to the Queen, who was about to make her annual progress. In it, he says,

[ocr errors]

Seize, then, the hour when Sorrow steeps
Fill a bright cup to the heart that weeps,
Her woes in a trance of leisure;

And the soul that bathes in pleasure!
Fill to the zephyr sighing round-

To the storm that shouts in anger!
Fill to the voice of Pleasure's sound,
And the murmur'd threat of danger!
Fill to the flowers of summer past-

Fill to the bliss that yet may last,
To the joys that time has faded!

And the thoughts that grief has shaded!
Fill to the year that has ran its course-
To the one that clings around us!
Fill to the river has dried its source,
And the sea by waves has bound us!
Fill to the scenes that memory gives,
Where joy and hope were shining!
Fill to the scene that round us lives,
Where sad-tongued Truth's reclining!

My heart was never broken till this day, that I hear the Queen goes away so far off, whom I have followed so many years with so great love and desire, in so many journeys, and am now left behind her in a dark prison, all alone. While she was yet near at hand, that I might hear of her once in two or three days, my sorrows were the less, but even now my heart is cast into the depth of all misery. I, that was wont to behold her riding like Alexander, hunting like Diana, walking like Venus, the gentle wind blowing her Fill to the themes of minstrels' lays— fair hair about her pure face like a nymph, sometime sitting in the shade like a goddess, sometimes singing like an angel, sometimes playing like Orpheus,' &c. Elizabeth, on whom flattery was never lost, at length compassionated her love-stricken swain,' and in September, 1592, he was released from durance."

With the following anecdotes of Hugh Le Bigod,who was constable of the Tower in 1271, we conclude our notice of this useful work, which we view as a desirable performance, well calculated to illustrate the chronicles of England. Of the numerous engravings in this book, all we can say is, that some are exceeding clever, and the rest respectable.

[ocr errors]

To the jocund time before them!
Fill to the hopes of happier days,

And the buoyant hearts that bore them!
Fill to the winter's stormy blast-

To the woes that round are pelting!

Fill to the bliss that may not last,

And the joys in doubt are melting!

Fill to the themes have left the breast

To the thoughts have died unspoken!
Fill to the hearts that love has blest,
And the hearts that love has broken!

Fill to the song of the summer bird-
To the gloom the frost's revealing!
Fill to the lays by Fancy heard,

And the grief the bard is feeling!
Fill to the joys that dance around
Our sleep, and fly on waking!
Fill to the songs that cheerful sound,
Though the writer's heart is breaking!
Fill to the visions of early youth-

To the hopes that Fate has blighted!

Fill to the darker tales of Truth,

And the soul in grief benighted!

Fill to the fountain has ceased to play—
To the hope is dried by sorrow!
Fill to the fancies we love to-day,

Bigod, Earl of Norfolk, and Mareschal of England, was a nobleman of such power and wealth, that, on several occasions, he refused to obey the royal commands, and set the King at defiance. Once, in particular, the King requested him to head some forces on a foreign expedition: the Earl declined the honour, Fill to the pleasures vainly bright,

by virtue of his office, as did also the Lord Constable. His Majesty, exasperated at their refusal, turning to Bigod, said, Fore God, Sir Earl, you shall either go or hang!' Fore God, Sir King,' replied the uncourteous noble,' I will neither go nor hang.' The same monarch once termed him a traitor, when he not only denied the accusation, but defied his Majesty to injure him: Yes,' replied Henry, I can thresh your corn and sell it!' Ay!' retorted the Earl, but if you do so, I will send you the heads of your threshers." "

[ocr errors]

SONG.

For the Olio.

The nectar streams in every bowl,
And joy around is flowing,

And scarcely can the grief-chill'd soul
Restrain itself from glowing :

[ocr errors]

And the truths we weep to-morrow!
Fill to the day must end in night,
To the life with death is blending!
And the ills the grave is ending!

R. JARMAN.

THE PERPETUAL. FIRE.

For the Olio.

A German student, as he was once parading the streets, felt his foot strike against something on the ground, and looking downwards, perceived a book curiously bound-he took it up and put it in his coat-pocket. As he had several calls to make, he had no opportunity of examining this acquisition until late at night, when he returned home. Here, seating himself in an arm-chair, he took out the book with the intention of inspecting its contents. He found, to his surprise, it was written in a character unknown to him, which yet more astonished him as he knew all the European

and had no little learning in the Oriental languages; he turned it this way and that, and strived to make something of it, but all to no purpose; at last, abandoning all hopes of ever discovering its meaning, he fell into the following reflections.

"Perhaps this is a history of some mighty empire, now long forgotten, perhaps a chronicle of some hero of antiquity, whom the author has vainly sought to immortalize, perhaps 'tis the account of some ancient art now buried in oblivion. Who knows but it may contain the secret of alchemy, said to be known to Zoroaster, or that of the perpetual fire discovered by Rosicrucius?" He looked at the book once more, and to his amazement found that the characters were legible to him, and he read as follows:

"Sons of Fire!* think you that we were formed to live in everlasting bondage? Think you that the noblest of elements is to be confined by the basest? Rise, sons of Fire! shake off this inglorious sloth, let us at once break the walls of our prison, and range the realms of space, free as the Sylphs above us. The sluggish Gnomes dare not oppose our passage. Liberty is in our power-let us therefore use our utmost strength to obtain so glorious a prize!"

"Thus spake the King of the Salamanders, and his palace echoed with the applauses of his subjects, struck with admiration at the bold proposal of their monarch; the King bowed his head in approval of their fidelity, his fiery eyes rolling with wild delight as he surveyed the number and strength of his followers. He stood upon a throne supported by two gigantic figures of dragons, whose bodies appeared transparent with the fire which ever burned within them. His sceptre was a torch, whose red glare shone fearfully as he brandished it with his uplifted arm. The multitude around him seemed formed of the pure element of fire, those who were near appearing like images of flame, and those afar off like the sparks struck from the hard bosom of the flint. Every one beamed with delight at the thoughts of the looked-for freedom, and numbers thronged to the throne of their King, to assist him in his daring enterprise.

"The World had been but just created. It consisted of a crust of earth and water,

Perhaps it may not be amiss to inform some of my readers that Rosicrucius supposed

the four elements to be inhabited by spirits.

The inhabitants of Fire were called Salamanders; those of Air, Sylphs; those of Water; Naiada; and those of Earth, Gnomes.

the interior being filled with fire, while, round its surface, floated the thin canopy of air. The cause of the indignation of the Salamanders was their being confined by this crust of earth, and element inhabited by the Gnomes, whom they consider so far inferior to themselves.

"The Gnomes dwelt in spacious caverns hewn out of the earth, which were adorned on all sides with statues made of the finest porphyry, and ornamented with the most precious stones; here might be seen the sparkling diamond, the blood-red ruby, the carbuncle, that inestimable gem so much celebrated by the oriental fabulists, and in fact, every mineral that ever existed, but in much greater perfection than they were ever beheld in by mortals.

"In different parts of the cavern might be seen groups of Gnomes, some occupied in breaking pieces of ore with massy hammers,--some in pouring liquid metal into immense moulds to decorate their residence,-while others, reclining on the ground, were engaged in sorting minerals, and arranging them in their different classes. Suddenly, a noise like that of thunder was heard beneath them the earth was torn up under their feet; while, from the abysses thus made, rose the terrific forms of the Salamanders, who were immediately recognised from their fierce appearance. Each was armed with a torch, the light of which, shining on the glittering stones and metals around, made the whole cavity of earth seem like one sea of light. The Salamanders, without stopping to witness the astonishment they had occasioned, ascended on their flaming wings through the top of the cavern, until they arose into the open air, tearing up the smooth surface of the earth into a huge mountain, to which mortals have since given the name of Ætna, and which the Salamanders still use as a road when they wish to visit the pure regions of air. One of them, however, in the rapidity of his course, had dropped a torch, which the Gnomes having picked up, they inclosed in a cavern hewn for its reception, to commemorate the time when the Salamanders first asserted their liberty.

"This light still continues to burn, and will continue to do so until the universal conflagration, when the fabric of the world shall be rent by the fierce irruptions of the Salamanders, who will reduce its beautiful frame to ashes, while they themselves will sink buried in the ruins they have created. It was afterwards discovered by the Persian Magi, who, not knowing its cause, worshipped it as a God-they discovered the art of forming a communication between this

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

marshes on the opposite bank. A huge sea-wall, the gigantic labour of an unknown era, prevents the marshes from inundation by the Thames; yet of this work, more useful than the Pyramids, and perhaps as durable, tradition has left no name of the author. Thus the site of the modern Babylon was like the ancient, and particularly liable to fevers, which in hotter climates would have borne a type of greater exasperation. The effect of the marshes is observable at different seasons in the eastern part at present. Their fever approaches into suburbs nearest the marshes; sometimes but a few houses breadth in, at others the length of whole streets, as the atmospheric agency is more or less favourable. In like manner, in the warmer climates of Rome we find the marsh nuisance traversing within certain bounds that can be there more accurately defined. Who, then, will say it is not possible that marsh fever, introduced into a crowded, filthy, ill-fed population, might not alter its character, and a contagious pestilence arise from the seeds it may sow, appearing perhaps in a season when the customary presence of the marsh disease could scarcely be perceived, or in other words, in the season of the year least favourable to its action.

The first attack of pestilence on the metropolis which I recollect to have read a record of, was in 961, and it is described as a fever. Its visits were very frequent. In 1348 it is said to have destroyed eight out of ten persons This pest is farther said to have devastated Europe, and not to have subsided in this country for ten years. In 1407 the metropolis was again visited with a more than common attack of mortality, and thousands perished. In 1487 the pest is called the sweating sickness, and said to destroy life in twenty-four hours. By many this disease was said to be new, but it is probable it was the old pestilence in a different form. In 1517 it is said again to have made dreadful ravages. From this time the City began greatly to increase. It was nearly half a century afterwards, in 1564, before the sickness attacked the City formidably again, and 20,000 persons were carried off by it. It came again in 1603. Its violence was greatest between March and December, and it destroyed 30,561 persons, which was a far less number than in many preceding visitations, in proportion to the increase of population. It is said not to have been extinct until 1611. Yet in 1626 and 1627 it appeared again, and destroyed 35,000 persons in twelve months; and in the great plague of 1665

no less than one hundred thousand persons perished from it.

It appears evident that from 1603 to 1665 the disease was never wholly extinct, and the same thing had probably been the case for ages before. How are we to account for these singular visitations but by the supposition that the causes were inherent, or local, always existing, but only capable of extended action under particularly favourable circumstances, which are no longer in existence? It is in this view of the subject alone that we can reconcile these visitations. The contagionists will tell us that it was imported in a bag of cotton, or a bale of cloth, but common sense revolts at such an absurdity; how comes it that for 165 years since, our merchant-ships have trafficked in the very focus of the most terrible diseases, in all climes, and have never imported any of them? The real truth seems to be, that such diseases everywhere exist, with favouring circumstances in the mode of living, in site and temperature, to call them into action, but that they are rendered inert by the operation of incidental causes, and that one of the great annoyances in London has been one of its greatest benefits. I do not mean by this that founderies and steam-engines should not be made to consume their own smoke, but that a reasonable quantity of the sulphurous annoyance is a positive benefit, and, combined with superior cleanliness, street-draining, and dry floors and roofs, completely excludes the probability of any future visits from the most terrible of human calamities.

The streets of London formerly excluded a free circulation of air, unless when high winds were prevalent. The houses almost met and touched at the roofs, each story projecting over the one beneath it, and all being built of wood. Then the streets were SO narrow and crooked, that an old writer inquires whether they were not built before carts were invented, as wheelbarrows could only be used in them. The houses were totally unlike each other in size and ornament, a hovel standing next to a palace. In one thing only they agreed, namely, their overhanging floors; so that the people in the garrets could almost shake hands across from window to window. The stories, or rooms, too, were so low, that a very tall man with his hat on could hardly stand upright. The lower floors of the houses seem to have been the bare earth, on which it is probable the rushes were trodden in, and always in a state of decomposition, while dirt was everywhere observable. In the reign of James the

First, the precincts of the Court were so filthy, that the ladies who were in the habit of attending it, complained of bringing away with them certain insects which are now found only on the backs of the filthiest poor. I mean no disparagement to this most high and mighty prince as a native of a northern country, the inhabitants of which are said not to be famous for too many ablutions. I believe dirty habits to have been prevalent among our city ancestors, and a distinguishing trait in the character of the "good old times." Then there were few or no sinks or sewers in the great city; and every species of filth accumulated in corners, and even in the middle of the streets. Coal was only partially used as late as 1640; it caused the fashionable inhabitants of the court part of town to let slip many a jeer at the City people on account of their adopting it. Old Fish-street is distinguished, on the authority of Sir W. Davenant, for its peculiarities of every kind, and all seem favourable to the spread of disease, if not to its generation. The effluvia of the sick in one house could hardly escape into the atmosphere without a portion of it entering into another. Thus the ravages of the pestilence were more extended than would otherwise have been the case; and Death doubled the victims which were daily borne to the gulphs that had been dug to receive the festering remains of his victims.

This recalls to my recollection the localities noticed for their connexion with these fatal visitations, for some cause or other, but principally as the scenes where the hurried rite of sepulture was performed by the living with fear and trembling, lest during labour at the common grave

"The buried drag the buriers."

66

This is by no means partial exaggeration. "One cart," says a recorder of the great plague, going up Shoreditch, was forsaken of the drivers, or being left to one man to drive, he died in the street, and the horses going on overthrew the cart, and left the bodies, some thrown out here, some there, in a dismal manner. Another cart was, it seems, found in the great pit in Finsbury-fields, the driver being dead, or having gone and abandoned it, and the horses running too near, the cart fell in, and drew the horses in also." The driver's whip being found among the bodies, it is most natural to suppose he died among them. One must, however, admire the dauntless spirit of the survivors; for dead bodies never remained

« AnteriorContinuar »