Page images
PDF
EPUB
[graphic]

BRUCE CASTLE, NEAR TOTTENHAM.

This ancient edifice is about five miles from London, by the way of Stoke Newington, and Stamford Hill. It is in a delightful situation, and has lately attained considerable attention in consequence of its being now occupied as a seminary for an improved method of education, upon the plan of the celebrated "Hazlewood School," near Birmingham.

The castle is said to have been built by earl Waltheof, who, in 1069, married Judith, niece to William the Conqueror, who gave him for her portion the earldoms of Northumberland and Huntingdon. Their only daughter, Matilda, after the death of her first husband, married David I., king of Scotland, and, being heiress of Huntingdon, had, in her own right, as appended to that honor, the manor of Tottenham, in Middlesex. Through her these possessions descended to Robert Bruce, grandson of David, earl of Huntingdon, and brother to William III., king of Scotland. Bruce contended for the throne of Scotland with John Baliol, who was the earl's great grandson by his eldest daughter, and who ultimately was adjudged heir to the crown. Upon this adjudication Robert Bruce retired to England, and settling on his grandfather's estate at Tottenham High Cross, repaired the castle, and, acquiring an adjacent manor, named it and the castle Bruce. The above engraving, after another from

a view taken in 1686, represents one of the four towers of the ancient castle. This tower is still standing, together with the house.

Bruce Castle became forfeited to the crown, and had different proprietors. In 1631 it was in the possession of Hugh Hare, lord Coleraine. Henry Hare, the last lord Coleraine, having been deserted by his wife, left all his estates to a natural daughter, born in Italy, whom he named Henrietta Rosa Peregrine. This lady married the late Mr. Alderman Townsend, but being an alien she could not take the estates; and, lord Coleraine having legally barred the heirs at law, the estates escheated to the crown. But a grant, sanctioned by act of Parliament, confirmed the estates to the alderman and his lady, whose son, Henry Hare Townsend, Esq, afterwards inherited them, and resided in Bruce Castle. In 1792 Mr. Townsend sold his estates, and Bruce Castle is now occupied by Mr. Rowland Hill. This gentleman directs the establishment for education upon the plan of his father's at Hazlewood, of which, indeed, this is a branch for the convenience of persons who desire their sons to derive the advantages of the Hazlewood system, and yet be near to the metropolis. The appearance of this spacious mansion is somewhat different from the preceding view of it.

It is not convenient to introduce an ac

[blocks in formation]

On the Two Figures of a Horse and a Lamb, over the Inner Temple Gate.

As by the Templar's holds you go,
The horse and lamb, display'd
In emblematic figures, show
The merits of their trade.

That clients may infer, from thence,
How just is their profession,
The lamb sets forth their innocence,
The horse their expedition.
"O happy Britons! happy isle!"
Let foreign nations say,
"Where you get justice without guile,
And law without delay."
Answer.

Deluded men, these holds forego,

Nor trust such cunning elves; These artful emblems tend to show Their clients, not themselves. 'Tis all a trick: these are but shams, By which they mean to cheat you; For have a care, you are the lambs, And they the wolves that eat you. Nor let the thought of no "delay" To these their courts misguide you;

You are the showy horse, and they Are jockeys that will ride you.

[blocks in formation]

January 25.

WINTER NIGHT CAPS.

One of the best night caps in use at the University of Oxford is "a Bishop,"-a delicious winter beverage of antiquity beyond the memory of man, and hence not discoverable. Its name is presumed to have been derived from a custom in old times of regaling prelates with spiced wine, when they honored the University with a visit. To sanction its modern use, the erudite editor of "Oxford Night Caps" produces from an "Ancient Fragment," co-eval with his work, the following lines:

Three cups of this a prudent man may take;
The first of these for constitution's sake,
The second to the lass he loves the best,
The third and last to lull him to his rest.

Upon this authority, in addition to the usage, it may be affirmed that "a bishop" is a comforter - "the last thing"-on going to bed.

According to ecclesiastical custom, as respects the beginning of a bishop, he must be of necessity a doctor before he can be a bishop: but, in the list of the University beverages which are called "night caps," there is not at this time any liquor called a "doctor:" on which account, and notwithstanding the fair presumption of the fore-cited Oxford editor concerning the origin of the term "bishop" from a usage, yet it seems likely that there was a potation called "a doctor" more ancient; and, that the members of the University may have so admired the higher dignity, that, of by-gone gone reason, and in haste, they may have rejected the liquor of degree, and passed at once to the ultimatum; thereby, and to the present time, ceasing the use, and forgetting the inductive and more ancient beverage called "doctor," the readier thereby to favor themselves with the "bishop." For the manner of inaking the tipple called "a doctor" is now as utterly unknown in the University as the reason for making a D. D. in boots. Upon which it booteth not to enquire, but rather to think of our "night caps," and, so, at once to compotation.

Bishop.

Make incisions in the rind of a lemon, stick cloves in the incisions, and roast the lemon by a slow fire. Put small but equal quantities of cinnamon, cloves, mace, and allspice, and a race of ginger, into a saucepan with half-a-pint of water; let it boil until it is reduced to half. Boil a bottle of port wine, and, by applying a lighted paper to the saucepan, burn a portion of the spirit out of it. Add the roasted lemon and spice unto the wine; stir all well together, and let it stand near the fire ten minutes. Put some knobs on the rind of a lemon, put the sugar into a bowl or jug, with the juice of half a lemon, not roasted; pour the wine upon this mixture, grate nutmeg into it, sweeten all to your taste, and you have a bishop. Serve it up with the lemon and spice floating in it.

a

In your Oxford bishop, oranges are not used: but the true London way of making bishop is to use oranges instead of lemons. And so says "St. Patricks' great dean," who honored the beverage with his approbation

Fine oranges

Well roasted, with sugar and wine in a cup,

or

byshope hath bressed it, because that nothynge speadeth eth well that they medyll wythall. If the pod podech be burned to, the meate over rosted, we saye, the byshope hath put his fote in the potte, or the byshope hath playd the coke, because the bishopes burn who they lust, and whosoever displeaseth them." On these sayings there are conjectural explanations by "Tusser Redivivus," by a writer in "The British Apollo," and by captain Grose, in his "Provincial Glossary," but none are to the point like Tyndal's certain affirmation, relating to papal bishops, which remained unobserved till produced by Mr. Henry Ellis.*

But there is enough of this, and now back to our liquor.

As "night caps" we have a triplet "which owe their origin to some Brazennose bacchanalians, and differ only from

They'll make a sweet bishop which gentlefolks bishop as the species from the genus."

sup.

No man knew better how to make "a bishop" than the father of Mr. Matthews the comedian. He was predecessor of Mr. Samuel Leigh, the publisher, in the Strand, and at the trade-sales of the booksellers, which are held at taverns, he was accustomed so to make "a bishop," that he was familiarly called by his brethren, "Bishop Matthews."

Note. As concerning a saying, of a bishop clerical, that old wives and silly serving girls use; ; when they let a pot burnto, they sometimes cry "the bishop has put his foot in it;" or, again, there is "a bishop in the pan;" which neglect of food "burnt to the pan," and the saying thereon, worthy Thomas Tusser, at the end of "April's Husbandry," mentions in his "Five Hundred Points," by way of "a lesson for dairy mayd Cisley."

Bless Cisley (good mistris)
that bishop doth ban,
For burning the milke

of her cheese to the pan.

The occasion of this saying seems to have been disclosed three centuries ago by William Tindale in his "Obedyence of a Crysten Man," printed in 1528: for he says, "When a thynge speadeth not well, we borowe speach and saye the

* 1610, 4to.

These, and the manner of making them, follow :

[blocks in formation]

Also, it is to be noted, that our unlearned ancestors sometimes associated more serious misfortunes with the episcopal designation. The little islands and rocks on the Pembrokeshire coast near St. Davids, which are particularly dangerous to shipping, and therefore feared by seamen, are called the "bishop and his clerks;" and on the coast of Devonshire, between Teignmouth and Dawlish, two small rocks, hollowed by the waves from the main body, and projecting into the sea, are well known to mariners by the name of "the bishop and his clerk."

Lastly, there is a certain peculiar sophistication of a dull or bad horse to make

Brand, ii. 669.

[blocks in formation]

Twilight ends

6 21

[blocks in formation]

"Whene'er contending princes fight, For private pique or public right,

The yellow hellebore, or winter aconite, Armies are rais'd, the fleets are mann'd flowers, if mild weather.

January 26.

FRANCIS MOORE, Physician.

On the 26th of January, 1820, died, aged seventy-six, Mr. Henry Andrews, of Royston, at which place he carried on the business of a stationer and bookseller; and, during the forty years preceding, manufactured Moore's Almanac for the Stationers' Company. Until his death he was intimate with many men of science, by whom he was much respected. was well informed in the exact sciences, and his "Vox Stellarum" was as profound in occult science as "Season on the Seasons," and "Poor Robin, the worthy knight of the burnt island," two other al

manacs now extinct.

The attainments of Mr. Andrews en

abled him to complete various tables for astronomical and scientific purposes in works of consequence, to which his name was not attached. His prophecies, under the name of "Francis Moore, Physician," were as much laughed at by himself, as by the worshipful company of stationers

They combat both by sea and land;
When after many battles past,
Both, tir'd with blows, make peace at last:
What is it after all the people get?

Why taxes, widows, wooden legs, and debt.

"The best that can be said of some

crowned heads is, that they are fruges consumere nati." With these clap-trap sentences "Francis Moore, physician, concluded the prophetic columns of " Vor Stellarum; or, a Loyal Almanac for the year of human redemption 1829." It might be imagined that, could the dead Mr. Andrews would smile in his grave on such language being used for the purpose of keeping up the sinking sale of Moore's Almanac. A few years before his death he predicted to the writer of this article that people would soon know better than to buy, or be influenced by, the prophecies which his em

ployers required him to write. Since the appearance of the " British Almanac," the reading of Moore's prophecies has been confined to weak-minded gossips, and the most illiterate of the vulgar.

for whom he annually manufactured them, January 26.-Day breaks in order to render their almanac saleable

among the ignorant, in whose eyes a lucky hit covered a multitude of blunders. He did not live to see the publication of

the

"British Almanac," which effected the downfal of "Poor Robin," whose "Every Robin went a robbing," annually, until 1828, when that almanac, and others of the same stamp, ceased to exist. It is worthy of remark that, in the following year, the predicting columns of Moore's Almanac became more political than prophetical, and startled many a country gaffer and gammer with passages similar to this:-"What has been achieved by the late expensive contest? Why! at home an enormous debt, and on the continent of Europe the restoration of the ancient government, with all their monkish absurdities, tyranny, and blasting influence-.

h. m.

5 38

Sun rises sets

7 37

4 23

Twilight ends

6 22

The white butterbur flowers, if mild weather; but, if cold, a fortnight later

January 27.

SUPPOSED EARTHQUAKE.

On the 27th of January, 1814, the Public Ledger nad the following paragragh, "A convulsion of the earth, exactly similar in effect and appearance to an earthquake, was sensibly perceived about ten minutes before eight eight o'clock, on Thursday night last, at Knill Court, Harpton, Norton, and Old Radnor, Radnorshire; at Knil Court the oscillation of the house was painly perceptiole, and felt by all the family, and that too in several apartinents, and was accompanied with a peculiar rumbling noise. At Harpton, a severe storm of thunder and lightning was experienced the same night, and at the same time." Upon this statement Mr. Luke Howard observes "I do not apprehend that these local tremors of the ground, in the time of thunder storms, are to be classed with real earthquakes. I have stood at the distance of six or seven miles from the extremity of a most extensive and violent thunder storm, visible from Plaistow, and have sensibly felt the ground shake under my feet at the time of the nearer discharges, owing, as I conclude, to the circumstance of the electrical action

I will walk on. The road is alive again. Noise is reborn. Waggons creak, horses splash, carts rattle, and pattens paddle through the dirt with more than their usual clink. The common has its old fine tints of green and brown, and its old variety of inhabitants, horses, cows, sheep, pigs, and donkeys. The ponds are unfrozen, except where some melancholy piece of melting ice floats sullenly upon the water: and cackling geese and gabbling ducks have replaced the lieutenant and Jack Rapley. The avenue is chill and dark, the hedges are dripping, the lanes knee-deep, and all nature is in a state of "dissolution and thaw."

Sun rises

h. m.

5 35

7 34

sets

4 26

Twilight ends

6 25

taking place between the clouds and the January 28.-Day breaks thick substratum of indurated clay on which the country hereabouts reposes. Such strokes as penetrate but a little below the surface I suppose to excite a lateral tremor proportionally less extensive."

[blocks in formation]

After the Frost in "Our Village," the weather breaks and another walk is taken by Miss Mitford, whose short picturesque account under this date comes seasonably. January 28th.--We have had rain, and snow, and frost, and rain again; four days of absolute confinement. Now it is a thaw and a flood; but our light gravelly soil, and country boots, and country hardihood, will carry us through. What a dripping comfortless day it is!-just like the last days of November; no sun, no sky, grey or blue; one low, overhanging, dark, dismal cloud, like London smoke. Up the hill again! Walk we must. Oh what a watery world to look back upon ! Thames, Kennet, Loddon-all overflowed; our famous town, inland once, turned into a sort of Venice; C. park converted into an island; and the long range of meadows from B. to W. one huge unnatural lake, with trees growing out of it. Oh what a watery world!-I will look at it no longer,

The Hedge Sparrow sings.

January 29.

On the 29th of January, 1547, King Henry VIII. died on the anniversary of that day in 1820 King George III. died.

COUNTRY CHARACTERS..

Annexed are pleasant sketches of the manners of the little gentry in the early part of King George III., by a pleasant collector and describer of antiquities.

The Country Madam.

When I was a young man, there existed in the families of most unmarried men, or widowers of the rank of gentlemen, residents in the country, a certain antiquated female, either maiden or widow, commonly an aunt or cousin. Her dress I have now before me; it consisted of a stiff starched cap and hood, a little hoop, a rich silk damask gown with large flowers. She leant on an ivory-headed crutch-cane, and was followed by a fat phthisicky dog of the pug kind, who commonly reposed on a cushion, and enjoyed the privilege of snarling at the servants, occasionally biting their heels with impunity.

By the side of this good old lady jingled a bunch of keys, securing, in different closets and corner cup-boards, all sorts of cordial waters, cherry and raspberry brandy, washes for the complexion, Daffy's elixir, a rich seed-cake, a number of pots of currant-jelly and raspberry-jam, with a range of gallipots and phials containing

« PreviousContinue »