Various - The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction, Vol. 20, No. 577
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Various >> The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction, Vol. 20, No. 577
THE MIRROR OF LITERATURE, AMUSEMENT, AND INSTRUCTION.
VOL. XX, No. 577.] SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 24, 1832. [PRICE 2d.
* * * * *
[Illustration: DOMESTIC ANTIQUITIES.]
DOMESTIC ANTIQUITIES.
The first of these archaeological rarities is a pair of Snuffers,
found in Dorsetshire sixty-four years since, and engraved in Hutchins's
history of that county. They were discovered, says the historian,
"in the year 1768, in digging the foundation of a granary, at the
foot of a hill adjoining to Corton mansion house (formerly the seat
of the respectable family of the Mohuns), in the parish of St. Peter,
Portisham. They are of brass, and weigh six ounces: the great difference
between these and the modern utensils of the same nature and use is,
that these are in shape like a heart fluted, and consequently terminate
in a point. They consist of two equal lateral cavities, by the edges of
which the snuff is cut off, and received into the cavities, from which
it is not got out without particular application and trouble."
"There are two circumstances attending this little utensil which seem to
bespeak it of considerable age: the roughness of the workmanship, which
is in all respects as crude and course as can be well imagined, and the
awkwardness of the form."
So little is known of the comparatively recent introduction of snuffers
into this country, that the above illustration will be acceptable to the
observer of domestic origins and antiquities. See also _Mirror_, vol.
xi. p. 74.
The KEY, annexed, was the property of Mr. Gough, the eminent
topographer, and is supposed to have been used as a passport by some of
the family of Stawel, whose arms it bears.
* * * * *
LINES
ADDRESSED TO A PARTY OF YOUNG LADIES VISITING THE CATACOMBS AT PARIS.
(_From the French of M. Emanuel Dupaty_.)
BY E.B. IMPEY, ESQ.
While life is young and pleasure new,
Ah! why the shades of Death explore?
Better, ere May's sweet prime is o'er,
The primrose path of joy pursue:
The torch, the lamps' sepulchral fire,
Their paleness on your charms impress,
And glaring on your loveliness,
Death mocks what living eyes desire.
Approach! the music of your tread
No longer bids the cold heart beat:
For ruling Beauty boasts no seat
Of empire o'er the senseless dead!
Yet, if their lessons profit aught,
Ponder, or ere ye speed away,
Those feet o'er flowers were form'd to stray,
No death-wrought causeway, grimly wrought,
Of ghastly bones and mould'ring clay.
To gayer thoughts and scenes arise;
Nor ever veil those sun-bright eyes
From sight of bliss and light of day--
Save when in pity to mankind
Love's fillet o'er their lids ye bind.
* * * * *
HOLLAND.
Holland derives its name from the German word _Hohl_, synonymous
with the English term hollow, and denoting a concave, or very hollow,
low country.
This country originally formed part of the territory of the Belgae,
conquered by the Romans, 47 years before Christ. A sovereignty, founded
by Thierry, first Count of Holland, A.D. 868, continued till the year
1417, when it passed, by surrender, to the Duke of Burgundy. In 1534,
being oppressed by the Bishop of Utrecht, the people ceded the country
to Spain. The Spanish tyranny being insupportable, they revolted, and
formed the republic called the United Provinces, by the Union of
Utrecht, 1579. When they were expelled the Low Countries by the Duke of
Alva, they retired to England; and having equipped a small fleet of
forty sail, under the command of Count Lumay, they sailed towards this
coast--being called, in derision, "_gueux_," or _beggars of the sea_.
Upon the duke's complaining to Queen Elizabeth, that they were pirates,
she compelled them to leave England; and accordingly they set sail for
Enckhuysen; but the wind being unfavourable, they accidentally steered
towards the isle of Voorn, attacked the town of Briel, took possession
of it, and made it the first asylum of their liberty.
In 1585, a treaty was concluded between the States of Holland and
Queen Elizabeth; and Briel was one of the cautionary towns delivered
into her hands for securing the fulfilment of their engagements. It was
garrisoned by the English during her reign, and part of the next, but
restored to the States in 1616.
The office of Stadtholder, or Captain-General of the United Provinces,
was made hereditary in the Prince of Orange's family, not excepting
females, 1747. A revolt was formed, but prevented by the Prussians,
1787. The country was invaded by the French in 1793, who took possession
of it January, 1795, and expelled the Stadtholder: it was erected into
a kingdom by the commands of Buonaparte, and the title of king given
to his brother Louis, June 5, 1806. Its changes since this period are
familiar to the reader of contemporary history.
Lord Chesterfield, in his _Letters to his Son_, says--"Holland,
where you are going, is by far the finest and richest of the Seven
United Provinces, which, altogether, form the republic. The other
provinces are Guelderland, Zealand, Friesland, Utrecht, Groningen,
and Overyssel. These seven provinces form what is called the
States-General of the United Provinces: this is a very powerful, and a
very considerable republic. I must tell you that a republic is a free
state, without any king. You will go first to the Hague, which is the
most beautiful village in the world, for it is not a town. Amsterdam,
reckoned the capital of the United Provinces, is a very fine, rich city.
There are besides in Holland several considerable towns--such as Dort,
Haerlem, Leyden, Delft, and Rotterdam. You will observe throughout
Holland the greatest cleanliness: the very streets are cleaner than our
houses are here. Holland carries on a very great trade, particularly to
China, Japan, and all over the East Indies."
P.T.W.
* * * * *
THE HAWTHORN WELL.
[The following lines are associated with a singular species of
popular superstition which may in some measure, explain the "pale
cast of thought" that pervades them. They are written by a native of
Northumberland. "The Hawthorn Well," was a _Rag Well_, and so
called from persons formerly leaving rags there for the cure of
certain diseases. Bishop Hall, in his Triumphs of Rome, ridicules a
superstitious prayer of the Popish Church for the "blessing of clouts
in the way of cure of diseases;" and Mr. Brand asks, "Can it have
originated thence?" He further observes:--"this absurd custom is not
extinct even at this day: I have formerly frequently observed shreds or
bits of rag upon the bushes that overhang a well in the road to Benton,
a village in the vicinity of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, which, from that
circumstance, is now or was very lately called _The Rag Well_. This
name is undoubtedly of long standing: probably it has been visited for
some disease or other, and these rag-offerings are the relics of the
then prevailing popular superstition."--_Brand's Popular Antiquities_,
vol. ii. p. 270.]
"From hill, from dale, each charm is fled;
Groves, flocks, and fountains, please no more."
No joy, nor hope, no pleasure, nor its dream,
Now cheers my heart. The current of my life
Seems settled to a dull, unruffled lake,
Deep sunk 'midst gloomy rocks and barren hills;
Which tempests only stir and clouds obscure;
Unbrightened by the cheerful beam of day,
Unbreathed on by the gentle western breeze,
Which sweeps o'er pleasant meads and through the woods,
Stirring the leaves which seem to dance with joy.
No more the beauteous landscape in its pride
Of summer loveliness--when every tree
Is crowned with foliage, and each blooming flower
Speaks by its breath its presence though unseen--
For me has charms; although in early days,
Ere care and grief had dulled the sense of joy,
No eye more raptured gazed upon the scene
Of woody dell, green slope, or heath-clad hill;
Nor ear with more delight drank in the strains
Warbled by cheerful birds from every grove,
Or thrilled by larks up-springing to the sky.
From the hill side--where oft in tender youth
I strayed, when hope, the sunshine of the mind,
Lent to each lovely scene, a double charm
And tinged all objects with its golden hues--
There gushed a spring, whose waters found their way
Into a basin of rude stone below.
A thorn, the largest of its kind, still green
And flourishing, though old, the well o'erhung;
Receiving friendly nurture at its roots
From what its branches shaded; and around
The love-lorn primrose and wild violet grew,
With the faint bubbling of that limpid fount.
Here oft the shepherd came at noon-tide heat
And sat him down upon the bank of turf
Beneath the thorn, to eat his humble meal
And drink the crystal from that cooling spring.
Here oft at evening, in that placid hour
When first the stars appear, would maidens come
To fill their pitchers at the Hawthorn Well,
Attended by their swains; and often here
Were heard the cheerful song and jocund laugh
Which told of heart-born gladness, and awoke
The slumbering echoes in the distant wood.
But now the place is changed. The pleasant path,
Which wound so gently up the mountain side
Is overgrown with bent and russet heath;
The thorn is withered to a moss-clad stump,
And the fox kennels where the turf-bank rose!
The primrose and wild violet now no more
Spread their soft fragrance round. The hollow stone
Is rent and broken; and the spring is dry!
* * * * *
But yesterday I passed the spot, in thought
Enwrapped--unlike the fancies which played round
My heart in life's sweet morning, bright and brief:
And as I stood and gazed upon the change,
Methought a voice low whispered in my ear:
"Thy destiny is linked with that low spring;
Its course is changed, and so for aye shall be
The tenor of thy life; and anxious cares,
And fruitless wishes, springing without hope,
Shall rankle round thy heart, like those foul weeds
Which now grow thick where flow'rets bloomed anew:--
Like to that spring, thy fount of joy is dry!"
* * * * *
LINES
_From the Italian of Scipione Maffei_[1]
BY E.B. IMPEY.
Quivi qual foste gia, non qual sarete.
Con diletto mirando, in onta agli anni
Vostre belle sembianze ancor vedrete.
Scorn not, dear maid, this fond but faithful lay,
That pictures, on no perishable page,
Thy beauties, rescued from the spoils of age,
To live and blossom with thy poet's bay:
For when remorseless Time brings on decay,
When the loath'd mirror shall no more engage
Thy smiles, distorted into grief and rage,
Alas! to think that youth must pass away--
Then in these lines contented shall thou trace,
As in a lovelier glass, thy lasting charms,
Not as they shall be, but as now they grace,
Fresh in the bud of youth, these circling arms.
[1] The Marchese Scipione Maffei was a native of Verona, contemporary
with Gio. Baptista Felice Zappi, Vincenzio di Filicaja, and other
Italian poets, who associated themselves together in an academy,
which they entitled Arcadia. The pastoral name conferred upon
the Marquess was Orilto Barentatico.
_Vide Rime degli Arcadi, Venice_, MDCCLXXIX.
* * * * *
LAWS RELATING TO BACHELORS.
(_To the Editor._)
At page 53 of the present volume, your Correspondent "E.J.H." in his
remarks on "Laws relating to Bachelors," states at the conclusion
thereof as follows:--
"In England, bachelors are not left to go forgotten to their solitary
graves. There was a tax laid on them by the 7th William III., after the
25th year of their age, which was 12_l._ 10_s._ for a duke,
and 1_s._ for a commoner. At present they are taxed by an extra
duty upon their servants--for a male, 1_l._ 5_s._, for a female,
2_s._ 6_d._ above the usual duties leviable upon servants."
Your Correspondent certainly must be in error upon these points, as the
additional duty to which bachelors in England are liable under the
present Tax Acts, for a male Servant, is only 1_l._ (the usual duty
leviable for such servant being 1_l._ 4 _s._); and there is
not, that I am aware of, any law in existence in England taxing any
person in respect of female servants.
R.J.
_Alton, Hants._
* * * * *
THE NATURALIST.
DEER OF NORTH-AMERICA, AND THE MODE OF HUNTING THEM.
(_From Featherstonehaugh's Journal._)
Deer are more abundant than at the first settlement of the country.
They increase to a certain extent with the population. The reason of
this appears to be, that they find protection in the neighbourhood of
man from the beasts of prey that assail them in the wilderness, and from
whose attacks their young particularly can with difficulty escape.
They suffer most from the wolves, who hunt in packs like hounds, and
who seldom give up the chase until a deer is taken. We have often sat,
on a moonlight summer night, at the door of a log-cabin in one of our
prairies, and heard the wolves in full chase of a deer, yelling very
nearly in the same manner as a pack of hounds. Sometimes the cry would
be heard at a great distance over the plain: then it would die away, and
again be distinguished at a nearer point, and in another direction;--now
the full cry would burst upon us from a neighbouring thicket, and we
would almost hear the sobs of the exhausted deer;--and again it would be
borne away, and lost in the distance. We have passed nearly whole nights
in listening to such sounds; and once we saw a deer dash through the
yard, and immediately past the door at which we sat, followed by his
audacious pursuers, who were but a few yards in his rear.--Immense
numbers of deer are killed every year by our hunters, who take them for
their hams and skins alone, throwing away the rest of the carcass.
Venison hams and hides are important articles of export; the former are
purchased from the hunters at 25 cents a pair, the latter at 20 cents a
pound. In our villages we purchase for our tables the saddle of venison,
with the hams attached, for 37-1/2 cents, which would be something like
one cent a pound.--There are several ways of hunting deer, all of which
are equally simple. Most frequently the hunter proceeds to the woods on
horseback, in the day-time, selecting particularly certain hours, which
are thought to be most favourable. It is said, that, during the season
when the pastures are green, this animal rises from his lair precisely
at the rising of the moon, whether in the day or night; and I suppose
the fact to be so, because such is the testimony of experienced hunters.
If it be true, it is certainly a curious display of animal instinct.
This hour is therefore always kept in view by the hunter, as he rides
slowly through the forest, with his rifle on his shoulder, while his
keen eye penetrates the surrounding shades. On beholding a deer, the
hunter slides from his horse, and, while the deer is observing the
latter, creeps upon him, keeping the largest trees between himself and
the object of pursuit, until he gets near enough to fire. An expert
woodsman seldom fails to hit his game. It is extremely dangerous to
approach a wounded deer. Timid and harmless as this animal is at other
times, he no sooner finds himself deprived of the power of flight, than
he becomes furious, and rushes upon his enemy, making desperate plunges
with his sharp horns, and striking and trampling furiously with his
forelegs, which, being extremely muscular and armed with sharp hoofs,
are capable of inflicting very severe wounds. Aware of this
circumstance, the hunter approaches him with caution, and either secures
his prey by a second shot, where the first has been but partially
successful, or, as is more frequently the case, causes his dog to seize
the wounded animal, while he watches his own opportunity to stab him
with his hunting-knife. Sometimes where a noble buck is the victim, and
the hunter is impatient or inexperienced, terrible conflicts ensue on
such occasions. Another mode is to watch at night, in the neighbourhood
of the salt-licks. These are spots where the earth is impregnated with
saline particles, or where the salt-water oozes through the soil. Deer
and other grazing animals frequent such places, and remain for hours
licking the earth. The hunter secretes himself here, either in the thick
top of a tree, or most generally in a screen erected for the purpose,
and artfully concealed, like a mask-battery, with logs or green boughs.
This practice is pursued only in the summer, or early in the autumn, in
cloudless nights, when the moon shines brilliantly, and objects may be
readily discovered. At the rising of the moon, or shortly after, the
deer having risen from their beds approach the lick. Such places are
generally denuded of timber, but surrounded by it; and as the animal is
about to emerge from the shade into the clear moonlight, he stops,
looks cautiously around and snuffs the air. Then he advances a few
steps, and stops again, smells the ground, or raises his expanded
nostrils, as if "he snuffed the approach of danger in every tainted
breeze." The hunter sits motionless, and almost breathless, waiting
until the animal shall get within rifle-shot, and until its position, in
relation to the hunter and the light, shall be favourable, when he fires
with an unerring aim. A few deer only can be thus taken in one night,
and after a few nights, these timorous animals are driven from the
haunts which are thus disturbed. Another method is called
_driving_, and is only practised in those parts of the country
where this kind of game is scarce, and where hunting is pursued as an
amusement. A large party is made up, and the hunters ride forward with
their dogs. The hunting ground is selected, and as it is pretty well
known what tracts are usually taken by the deer when started, an
individual is placed at each of those passages to intercept the
retreating animal. The scene of action being in some measure,
surrounded, small parties advance with the dogs in different directions,
and the startled deer, in flying, generally fly by some of the persons
who are concealed, and who fire at them as they pass.
* * * * *
WOLVES OF NORTH AMERICA.
(_From Featherstonehaugh's Journal._)
Wolves are very numerous in every part of the state. There are two
kinds: the common or black wolf, and the prairie wolf. The former is
a large, fierce animal, and very destructive to sheep, pigs, calves,
poultry, and even young colts. They hunt in large packs, and after using
every stratagem to circumvent their prey, attack it with remarkable
ferocity. Like the Indian, they always endeavour to surprise their
victim, and strike the mortal blow without exposing themselves to
danger. They seldom attack man except when asleep or wounded. The
largest animals, when wounded, entangled, or otherwise disabled, become
their prey, but in general they only attack such as are incapable of
resistance. They have been known to lie in wait upon the bank of a
stream, which the buffaloes were in the habit of crossing, and, when one
of those unwieldy animals was so unfortunate as to sink in the mire,
spring suddenly upon it and worry it to death, while thus disabled
from resistance. Their most common prey is the deer, which they hunt
regularly; but all defenceless animals are alike acceptable to their
ravenous appetites. When tempted by hunger, they approach the
farm-houses in the night, and snatch their prey from under the very eye
of the farmer; and when the latter is absent with his dogs, the wolf is
sometimes seen by the females lurking about in mid-day, as if aware of
the unprotected state of the family. Our heroic females have sometimes
shot them under such circumstances. The smell of burning assafoetida
has a remarkable effect upon this animal. If a fire be made in the
woods, and a portion of this drug thrown into it, so as to saturate the
atmosphere with the odour, the wolves, if any are within the reach of
the scent, immediately assemble around, howling in the most mournful
manner; and such is the remarkable fascination under which they seem to
labour, that they will often suffer themselves to be shot down rather
than quit the spot. Of the very few instances of their attacking human
beings of which we have heard, the following may serve to give some idea
of their habits. In very early times, a Negro man was passing in the
night in the lower part of Kentucky from one settlement to another. The
distance was several miles, and the country over which he travelled
entirely unsettled. In the morning, his carcass was found entirely
stripped of flesh. Near it lay his axe, covered with blood, and all
around, the bushes were beaten down, the ground trodden, and the number
of foot-tracks so great, as to show that the unfortunate victim had
fought long and manfully. On following his track, it appeared that the
wolves had pursued him for a considerable distance; and that he had
often turned upon them and driven them back. Several times they had
attacked him, and been repelled, as appeared by the blood and tracks.
He had killed some of them before the final onset, and in the last
conflict had destroyed several; his axe was his only weapon. The _prairie
wolf_ is a smaller species, which takes its name from its habits, or
residing entirely upon the open plains. Even when hunted with dogs, it
will make circuit after circuit round the prairie, carefully avoiding
the forest, or only dashing into it occasionally when hard pressed, and
then returning to the plain. In size and appearance this animal is
midway between the wolf and the fox, and in colour it resembles the
latter, being of a very light red. It preys upon poultry, rabbits, young
pigs calves, &c. The most friendly relations subsist between this animal
and the common wolf, and they constantly hunt in packs together. Nothing
is more common than to see a large, black wolf in company with several
prairie wolves. I am well satisfied that the latter is the jackall of
Asia. Several years ago, an agricultural society, which was established
at the seat of government, offered a large premium to the person who
should kill the greatest number of wolves in one year. The legislature,
at the same time offered a bounty for each wolf-scalp that should be
taken. The consequence was, that the expenditure for wolf-scalps became
so great, as to render it necessary to repeal the law. These animals,
although still numerous, and troublesome to the farmer, are greatly
decreased in number, and are no longer dangerous to man. We know of no
instances in late years of a human being having been attacked by wolves.
* * * * *
CEDAR TREES.
There are now growing on the grounds of Greenfield Lodge, two cedar
trees of the immense height of 150 feet; the girth of one is 11 ft.
7 in. and its branches extend 50 feet; the girth of the other is 8 ft.
7 in.--_Chester Chronicle._
* * * * *
GIGANTIC WHALE.
The skeleton of the whalebone whale which was cast ashore at North
Berwick last year, and whose measurement so far exceeds the ordinary
dimensions of animated nature as positively to require to be seen before
being believed, is now in course of preparation, and we believe will be
set up in such a manner as to enable scientific men to examine it with
every advantage. The baleen (commonly called whalebone) has been
prepared with infinite care and trouble, and will be placed in its
original section in the palate. If there be one part more remarkable
than another, it is the appearance of the baleen, or whalebone, when
occupying its natural position; the prodigious quantity (upwards of two
tons), and, at the same time, mechanical beauty connected with every
part of the unique mass, rendering it beyond the power of language to
describe, or give the slightest idea of it. The skull, or brainbone, was
divided vertically, with a view to convenience in moving the head (this
portion of the skeleton weighing eight tons). This section displayed the
cavity for containing the brain; and thus some knowledge of the sentient
and leading organ of an animal, the dimensions of whose instruments of
motion fill the mind with astonishment, will at last be obtained.
Results, unexpected, we believe, by most anatomists were arrived at. The
cavity (a cast of which will be submitted to the anatomical public) was
gauged or measured in the manner first invented and recommended by Sir
William Hamilton, and under that gentleman's immediate inspection; the
weight of the brain, estimated in this way, amounts to 54 lb. imperial
weight. The brain of the small whalebone whale, examined by Mr. Hunter
(the specimen was only 17 feet long), weighed about 4 lb. 10 oz.; the
brain of the elephant weighs between 6 lb. and 7 lb.; the human brain
from 3 lb. to 4 lb. The total length of the whale was 80 feet; and
although Captain Scoresby mentions one which he heard of which was said
to measure somewhat more than 100 feet, it is extremely probable that
this measurement had not been taken correctly. The whale examined by
Sir Robert Sibbald, nearly a century ago, measured exactly 78 feet;
"fourteen men could stand at one time in the mouth; when the tide rose,
a small boat full of men entered easily."--_Scotsman_.