Count Boruwlaski, the Polish Dwarf.

Here lies in earth an honest fellow,Who died by fat, and lived by tallow.

Another corpulent person is thus lamented:—

Here lies the body of Thomas Dollman,A vastlyfat, though not a very tall man;Full twenty stone he weighed, yet I am told,His captain thought him worth his weight in gold:Grim Death, who ne'er to nobody shows favour,Hurried him off for all his good behaviour;Regardless of his weight, he bundled him away,'Fore any one "Jack Robinson" could say.

A moral lesson is given in the following:—

But why he grew so fat i' th' waist,Now mark ye the true reason,When other people used to fast,He feasted in that season.So now, alas! hath cruel DeathLaid him in his sepulchre.Therefore, good people, here 'tis seen,You plainly may see here,That fat men sooner die than lean,Witness Fat Johnny Holder.

The son of a Dean, a man of very spare habit, expressing to the son of a Bishop his astonishment at the great difference of the size of their fathers, the Bishop being very fat, he explained the reason in the following extempore parody of the old song:—

There's a difference betweenA Bishop and a Dean,And I'll tell you the reason why:A Dean cannot dish upA dinner like a Bishop,To feed such a fat son as I.

One of the best attested cases of dwarfish existence on record is that of Joseph Boruwlaski, the Polish dwarf, who was the delight of our grandfathers, and who, after the age ofseventy, suddenly found himself able with his hand to raise the latch of a door which up to that period he had always raised with a stick. How many inches he grew is not recorded, but the fact of his growth is sufficiently astonishing, and is only paradoxical so long as we continue to hold the general opinion that "men do not grow after reaching maturity," whereas, in strict language, we must admit that theygrowas long as they live, but do not normally surpass the standard of maturity; growth continues, but only to supply the waste, not enough, as in childhood, to supply the waste and furnishsurplusfor the increase.

Count Joseph Boruwlaski is, in many respects, the most interesting dwarf of whom we have accurate records, and he has written his own memoir to complete our interest. He has given us his height at various epochs as follows:—

Count Boruwlaski in disgrace with his wife.

Here he stopped until he was seventy. He was born at Chaliez, in Russian Poland, November, 1739, of noble parents, who were richer in pedigree than in land or money. They were both well formed, healthy, and of the ordinary size; yet of their six children, three were dwarfs; and, to add to the singularity, the dwarfsalternatedwith well-formedchildren. Joseph was 8 inches in length when born, yet perfectly well-formed, and he sucked with infantine success, walking and talking at about the usual age.

On reaching his ninth year, he lost his father, who left a widow and six children very ill-provided for. Luckily, a friend of the widow, a Madame de Caorliz, adopted Joseph, and with her the boy spent four happy years. His benefactress then married, and this event produced a change in his fortunes. A dwarf so remarkable was naturally enough an envied possession; and the Countess Humieska, a very great person indeed, felt the desire natural in so great a person, to have this among her curiosities. Domiciled with the great Countess, Joseph began to taste the splendours and luxuries of courts. They travelled through Poland, Germany, and France, and everywhere he was the lion of the hour. At Vienna he was presented to Maria Theresa, who, pleased with his courtly compliments, kissed him, and complimented the Countess on her travelling companion. On another occasion, Joseph, in the lap of the Empress, who had sixteen children of her own, and doted on them, was looking at the hand in which his own was clasped, and which flashed light from a ring bearing her cipher in brilliants. She asked him if he was pleased with the ring; he told her it was thehandhe looked at, and at the same time raised it to his lips. The flattered Empress insisted on giving him the ring; but alas! it was too large, whereupon she called to a young lady of about six years old, and taking from her a fine diamond ring, placed it on Joseph's finger: this young lady was Marie Antoinette.

From Vienna the travellers proceeded to Munich, and thence, after countless fêtes, they went to Luneville, the court of Stanislas Leckzinski, titular King of Poland. Here Joseph met the dwarf Bébé, of whom Boruwlaski gives this account:—"With this prince (Stanislas) lived the famous Bébé, till then considered the most extraordinary dwarf that was ever seen; and who was, indeed, perfectly well proportioned,and with a pleasant physiognomy, but who (I am sorry to say it, for the honour of us dwarfs) had all the defects in his mind and way of thinking which are commonly attributed to us. He was at that time about thirty,[31]and his height two feet eight inches; and when measured, it appeared that I was much shorter, being no more than two feet four inches. At our first interview he showed much fondness for me; but, on perceiving that I preferred the company and conversation of sensible people, and above all, when he perceived that the King took pleasure in my society, he conceived the most violent jealousy and hatred of me; so that I escaped his fury only by a miracle. One day, we were both in the apartment of his Majesty, who caressed me, and asked me several questions, testifying his pleasure and approbation of my replies in the most affectionate manner. Then addressing Bébé, he said: 'You see, Bébé, what a difference there is between him and you. He is amiable, cheerful, entertaining, and instructed, whereas you are but a little machine.' At these words I saw fury sparkle in his eyes; he answered nothing, but his countenance and blush proved how violently he was agitated. A moment after, the King having gone into his cabinet, Bébé availed himself of the opportunity to execute his revengeful projects; and slyly approaching, seized me by the waist, and endeavoured to push me on to the fire. Luckily, I laid hold with both hands of the iron prop which sustained the tongs and poker, and thus prevented his wicked intentions. The noise I made in defending myself brought back the king to my assistance. He afterwards called the servants, and ordered Bébé corporal punishment. In vain did I intercede."

On quitting the court of Stanislas, Boruwlaski visited that of Versailles, where the Queen, the Duke of Orleans,and other distinguished personages, made as much of him as vanity could desire. The Count Orginski, finding he had a taste for music, provided him a master for the guitar. At the table of this nobleman, he one day allowed himself to be concealed in a large vase, which was placed amid the dishes, and to which the attention of the guests was directed, till their curiosity was fairly roused, expecting some rarity surpassing all the delicacies of the already sumptuous banquet; and then Joseph suddenly stood up, amid shouts of laughter.

From Paris he went to Holland, and thence back to Poland. His reception in Warsaw was enthusiastic; and as travel and reading had given polish to his manners and culture to his intellect, his society became sought after for something more than mere curiosity. He now attended the theatre, and became fascinated with the actresses. His first love was a French actress, who, amused and flattered, pretended to return his passion, and for a time he was in a delirium of happiness; but an unlucky discovery of her having talked about his passion with mockery, cruelly dispelled his brief dream. To be in love with an actress, and to find that she has been laughing at the passion she has inspired, and only feigning to return it for some object of her own, is what many young men have had to experience; but perhaps in none could the mortification of self-love have been so cruel as in the little dwarf, who knew the ridicule which must necessarily attend his presumption in claiming the privilege of a man. But the heart having once known the bitter-sweet of love, will not long be kept from it; and Joseph soon fixed his affections on Isolina, aprotégéeof the Countess Humieska, who, living under the same roof with him, was much astonished to observe that he allowed everyotherlady to take him on her lap and caress him; she accused him of not liking her, because to her only he was reserved and shy. Now, he had not forgotten the ridicule of the French actress: for a whole twelvemonth he continued loving in silence, in doubt,and in trouble. His health suffered; at last, passion triumphed over his fears; he declared his love, which the lady treated as the love of a child. "Really," said she, "you are a child, and I cannot help laughing at your extravagance." He tried to convince her that he was no child, and would not be loved like a child; when she burst out laughing, told him he knew not what he said, and left the room.

This was a ludicrous situation, but with a tragic aspect; a young and lively woman receiving a passionate declaration from a being not taller than a child three or four years old, may be excused if her sense of the ludicrous prevented her understanding the seriousness of the passion she inspired. Joseph was hurt, but not altogether dissatisfied. The secret no longer pressed its uneasy burden on his mind. She knew of his love; she could now interpret his reserve—his melancholy—his silent adoration. In time she might be touched. For the first few days, indeed, there seemed little hope of such an issue. She bantered him incessantly, and the more he tried to speak to her as a man, the more she persisted in treating him like a child. The effect of this was a serious illness; for two months he was in danger. He recovered, and she, from that time, gave up the dangerous game; and they were eventually married.

We must now accompany Boruwlaski to England, where he was received by the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire, and was presented to the King and Queen, and patronized by the Prince of Wales and the nobility.

Among the remarkable persons whom the Count met was O'Brien, the Irish giant. "Our surprise," says Boruwlaski, "was mutual—the giant remained a moment speechless with astonishment, and then stooping half-way, he presented his hand, which could easily have contained a dozen of mine, and made me a very pretty compliment." When they stood beside each other, the giant's knee was nearly on a level with the dwarf's head. They both resided togethersome time at an inn at Epping, where they often walked out together, greatly to the amusement of the townsfolk.

Mathews, the comedian, was a friend and admirer of Boruwlaski, and contrived to get an interview arranged with George IV. for the presentation of a copy of the Count'sMemoirs, published in 1788. Mathews and his little charge were ushered into the presence of the sovereign: the King rose and met Boruwlaski, raised him up in his arms, in a kind embrace, saying, "My dear old friend, how delighted I am to see you!" and then placed the little man upon a sofa. But the Count's loyalty not being so satisfied, he descended with the agility of a schoolboy, and threw himself at his master's feet, who, however, would not suffer him to remain in that position for a minute, but raised him again upon the sofa. In the course of the conversation, the Count, addressing the King in French, was told that his English was so good it was quite unnecessary to speak in any other language; for his Majesty, with his usual tact, easily discerned that he should be a loser in resigning the Count's prettily-broken English, which (as he always thought in his native language, and literally translated its idioms) was the most amusing imaginable, and totally distinct from the imperfect English of other foreigners.... The King, in the course of conversation, said, "But, Count, you were married when I first knew you: I hope madame is still alive, and as well as yourself." "Ah, no! Majesty; Isolina die thirty year!Finewoman!sweet,beautybody! You have noidea, Majesty." "I am sorry to hear of her death; such a charming person must have been a great loss to you, Count." "Dat is very true, Majesty;indid, indid, it was great sorrow for me!" His Majesty then inquired how old the Count was, and on being told, with a start of surprise observed, "Count, you are the finest man of your age I ever saw. I wish you could return the compliment." To which Boruwlaski, not to be outdone in courtesy, ludicrously replied, "Oh! Majesty,finebody!indid, indid;beautybody!"

The King, on accepting the book which the Count wished to present, turned to the Marchioness of Conyngham, and took from her a little case containing a beautiful miniature watch and seals, attached to a superb chain, the watch exquisitely ornamented with jewels. This the King begged the Count to accept, saying, as he held theMemoirsin the other hand, "My dear friend, I shall read and preserve this as long as I live, for your sake; and in return I request you will wear this for mine." His Majesty said to Mathews, in the absence of the Count, "If I had a dozen sons, I could not point out to them a more perfect model of good breeding and elegance than the Count; he is really a most accomplished and charming person."

It appears that, by the kindness of friends, Boruwlaski had purchased an annuity, which secured him independence for the remainder of his life. Out of this transaction arose a laughable incident. One day he called at the insurance office with Mr. Mathews, and on being asked how he was, he replied, with the vivacity of eighteen, "Oh,neverbetter!quitevel!" and he ran out of the office from the gaze of the aged insurer, scarcely able to restrain his merriment till he got out of hearing. He then told Mr. Mathews, during his convulsions of laughter, that the person they had just seen was the granter of his annuity. "Ha! ha! ha! O Mattew, I cannot help! Ohpoor devil, poorholdbody! Itmaks me laffing, poorhold hanimal! Oh he say prayer for me die, often when heslip! Oh you maydepend—ha! ha! ha! but Boruwlaskineverdie! Hecalcoolated datdwarf not live it long,etI live it forty year toplaghim. Oh he is in ahobbel debblishly! Itellee dat! He fifty yearyonger denBoruwlaski;mintimehe dead as soon as me. Oh yes, you may be suredat—datis myoppinnon. Boruwlaski never die," playfully nodding his little head, "you maydepend." Mr. Mathews asked him if the old man had any family (feeling some compassion for his hard case), to which the Count cried out, "Oh he have itshildrentwenty, like a pig, poordevel!mintimeherichebody! Oh he have itgoold et wastmany banknott.Botehe have itgreet prepencityto keep him fast hold, poor idiot!It macks me laffing!"—(See theMemoirs of Charles Mathews, by Mrs. Mathews.)

To these characteristics we are enabled to add that of an English letter, written by the Count in hiseighty-ninthyear, the handwriting of which is singularly firm and steady, resembling that of a school boy of about fourteen. We shall copy itliteratimfrom the autograph letter in the possession of Lord Houghton. It is addressed to Miss Emma George, at Miss Bird's, Pitt street, Edinburgh, and runs thus:—

"Dear Emma.—I am a fraid you will think me negligent in not answering your kind Letter which I received both. which made me delay write soonere I was en a visite at Newcastle, and I remain rathere to lon. and with the acceident happing when I burn your Lette in which been your derection, when I do so after reading, for alwais afraid of aney mischiefe at homes, what you know my situation, in which I remain to this day. and increas dayli more and more unhappy. I have maney things to tell you and you wish to know about me, but I cannot trust to a Lettere to disclos, and gave you picture of my precise state of my Life with extended Field, to make description of my trouble but only I may say truly. That I find myselfe without friend in a Stranger Country. Yet from the aspect of flattering appearance. I thought aftere a very fatiging journey in the begonning of my Life, that no kind of vexation would distourb my present state of happiness at Durham. Upon which my mind being grounded, in expectation of all feliesity. But here what to say of my sorrow with astonishment, when I found overeeting, when I behod now nothing but betterness of heart, and so heavy a Cloud over my existance in misery. So I have not on friend, but I have wakeful body who watch all my motion. So I have my share to be partner with you and support on othere, when we are left to ourself in a Pilgrimage in which we are engaged so severely.To be sure I feel the disappointments of my situation. Yet I have experience that I cannot help thinking that it was well that Providence had blessed me, to alowd me kindly as litll as it is: Yet to accomodated Dear Emma according to fortune which God gave me, which Dear Emma will receive next month your 5l.I beg Dear Emma make your selfe happy and not uneasy if some time I delay in answering your Lettere. Notwithstanding you most know me now to trust me and have Confidence in me that I ame not Changable nature, but remain, and believe me, your sincer affectiont, Joseph Boruwlaski.

"Durham 17 March 1828."

This singular being lived to the extraordinary age of ninety-eight; a great age for an ordinary man, and quite without example in the history of dwarfs. He died at Bank's Cottage, near Durham, on the 5th of September, 1837, and his remains were placed near those of Stephen Kemble, in the Nine Altars of Durham Cathedral. It is stated in theGentleman's Magazine(October, 1837), that the cottage was the gift of some of the prebendaries of Durham, who also allowed him a handsome income. They may have given him the cottage, but the income came, as Boruwlaski himself informs us, from the Misses Metcalfe. In the parish church of St. Mary-the-Less is a mural tablet of white stone, with an inscription erected in memory of the Count, who long resided in the city, and has, indeed, given his name to a bend in the river, known as "Count's Corner."—(Walker'sBrief Sketch of Durham, 4th edition, 1865.) If the reader attentively considers the story we have narrated, he will perceive that the Count, although an anomaly in respect of size, was in all other respects a perfectly formed man, and is distinguished from most other dwarfs by longevity, paternity, and intelligence. The anomaly, therefore, could not have been deeply seated. He was a perfect copy of nature's finest work in duodecimo. A full-length portraitof him may be seen in the Hunterian Museum, life-size, leaning against a chair.

It may be interesting to narrate a few more examples of dwarf life, from accredited sources.

M. St. Hilaire relates from thePhilosophical Transactions, 1751-2, the case of a dwarf named Hopkins, who, at fifteen years of age, stood only 2 ft. 7 in., and weighed between 12 and 13 lbs. He had all the signs of old age. He was bent, deformed, and troubled with a dry cough. His hearing and sight were bad; his teeth almost all decayed. He was very thin, and so weak as scarcely to be able to stand. Till the age of seven he had been gay, healthy, and active; nor at that age did he show any indications of stopped growth. He was well formed, and weighed nineteen pounds,i.e.six pounds more than he weighed at fifteen. From that period his health declined, and his body wasted. He came from healthy parents of ordinary stature, and was the second of six children, another of whom also was a dwarf.

Dantlow, the Russian dwarf, was only thirty inches high; he was without arms, and had only four toes on each foot. With his feet he made pen-and-ink sketches rivalling etchings; and knitted stockings with needles made of wood. He fed himself with his left foot; learned with great facility, and was eager to learn.

M. Virey describes a German girl, exhibited in Paris in 1816. She was of parents above the average height, who had previously produced a male dwarf. At eight years old she weighed no more than an ordinary infant; her height was eighteen inches. In temper she was gay, restless, and excitable. Her pulse normally was at ninety-four.

M. Virey also relates the following example; Thérèse Souvray, was destined to become the bride of Bébé, to whom she was solemnly affianced in the year 1761; but death snatched the bridegroom from her, and as thefiancéeof this celebrated man, she was exhibited in Paris during the year 1821. She was then seventy-three years of age;gay, healthy, lively, and danced with her sister, two years her senior, and measuring only three feet and a half, French measure.

In 1865, there died in Paris the dwarf Richebourg, who was an historical personage. Richebourg, who was only 60 centimètres high, was in his sixteenth year placed in the household of the Duchess of Orleans (the mother of King Louis-Philippe). He was often made useful for the transmission of dispatches. He was dressed up as a baby, and important State papers placed in his clothes, and thus he was able to effect a communication between Paris and theémigrés, which could hardly have taken place by any other means. The most suspicious ofsans culottesnever took it into his head to stop a nurse with a baby in her arms. For the last thirty years he lived in Paris in one of the houses in the remotest part of the Faubourg St. Germain. He had a morbid dread of appearing in public, and it is recorded that during this long period he never put his foot outside the house. He received from the Orleans family a pension of 3,000 francs per annum. He had attained the ripe age of ninety-two.

A writer inFraser's Magazine, August, 1856, from the above and other examples of dwarfs quoted by him, sets down these few general conclusions upon the question of their organization:—"In doing so," he remarks, "it will be well to bear in mind that the very fact of dwarfs beinganomalies, renders any generalization respecting them subject to many qualifications in each particular instance. Thus, although it is true, as a general fact, that they are short-lived and unintelligent, we see examples of more than ordinary intelligence in Boruwlaski and his brother, and Jeffrey Hudson, and of longevity in them. One may assert, indeed, that longevity and intelligence are intimately allied in the dwarf organization; for, whenever the anomaly of growth is not profound enough to affect the health, it is presumably too superficial to affect the intelligence; and,vice versâ,when we see a being passing rapidly from childhood to old age, we may be certain that the organization is too aberrant from the normal type to permit the free development of intelligence. Another general fact about dwarfs, and one to which we know of no exception, is that they are very excitable, and consequently, irascible; when in good health, lively, restless, and turbulent. This, indeed, is a characteristic of men and animals of the small type."

This extraordinary person, whose height was eight feet seven-and-a-half inches, was born at Kinsale, in Ireland. His real name was Patrick Cotter. He was of obscure parentage, and originally laboured as a bricklayer. His uncommon size rendered him a mark for the cunning of a showman, who, for the payment of 50l.per annum, had the privilege of exhibiting Cotter for three years in England. Not contented with his bargain, the huckster underlet to another speculator the liberty of showing him; and poor Cotter, through resisting this nefarious transaction, was saddled with a fictitious debt, and thrown into a spunging-house in Bristol. In this situation he was visited by a gentleman of the city, who, compassionating his distress, and having reason to think that he was unjustly detained, generously became his bail, and investigated the affair; and not only obtained Cotter his liberty, but freed him from all kind of obligation to serve his taskmaster any longer. He was then but eighteen years old. He retained, to his last breath, a due sense of the good offices of the Bristol stranger, conferred upon him when he was sorely in need; and the giant did not forget his benefactor in his will.

It happened to be September when Cotter was liberated; and by the further assistance of his benefactor, he was enabled to exhibit himself in the St. James's fair at Bristol; and in three days he found himself possessed of thirtypounds, English money. He now commenced a regular exhibition of his person, which he continued until within two years of his death, when having realized sufficient money to enable him to keep a carriage, and live in good style, he declined to exhibit any more, which was always irksome to his feelings. He was unoffending and amiable in his manners; was possessed of good sense, and his mind was not uncultivated; he long kept a journal of his life, which a whim of the moment induced him to commit to the flames. He died in his forty-sixth year, September 8th, 1806, at the Hotwells, Bristol. He was buried in the Roman Catholic chapel, Trenchard Street, at six o'clock in the morning, this early hour being fixed on to prevent as much as possible the assemblage of a crowd; but it is stated that at least 2,000 persons were present. The coffin, of lead, measured nine feet two inches in the clear, and the wooden case four inches more; it was three feet across the shoulders. No hearse could be procured long enough to contain the coffin, the projecting end of which was draped with black cloth. Fourteen men bore it from the hearse to the grave, into which it was let down with pulleys. To prevent any attempt to disturb his remains, of which Cotter had, when living, the greatest horror, the grave was made twelve feet deep, in a solid rock. A plaster cast of his right hand may be seen at the College of Surgeons, Lincoln's Inn Fields.

On Sunday, the 23rd of October, 1836, occurred an event interesting to physiologists. The wife of a dwarf, Don Santiago de los Santos (herself a dwarf), was delivered of a well-formed male infant, at their residence, No. 167, High Holborn, near Museum Street. The accoucheurs were Mr. Bowden, of Sloane Street, Chelsea, who had before attended Donna Santiago on a similar occasion; and Dr. Davis of Savile Row. Both gentlemen had for some timebeen very assiduous in their attentions to the little lady; but the infant, though it came into the world alive, did not survive above half-an-hour. Its length was thirteen and a half inches: its weight one pound four ounces and a half (avoirdupois); it was in every respect well-formed; and the likeness of the face to that of its father was very striking. It was carried in a coffin to St. George's Church, Bloomsbury; but being there refused sepulture, it was taken home, preserved in spirits, and subsequently exhibited. Dr. Davis was anxious to have it submitted to dissection, and to lecture upon it in the theatre of University College; this, however, was objected to by the Lilliputian parents, who appeared poignantly to feel the proposition.

Don Santiago, who was only twenty-five inches high, was at this time in his fiftieth year. He was a native of the Spanish settlement of Manilla, in one of the forests of which he was exposed and deserted, on account of his diminutive size. He was, however, miraculously saved by the Viceroy, who was hunting in that quarter, and humanely ordered him to be taken care of, and nursed with the same tenderness as his own children, with whom the little creature was brought up and educated, until he had attained the age ofmanhood. His birth dated from the period of his exposure, which was in 1786. His parents, it was ascertained, were farmers; and were with their other children (sons, daughters), of robust frame, and rather above the usual height.

When the Don was twenty years of age, his humane protector died; and attachment to the place of his birth prevented his accompanying his foster brother and sisters to Old Spain. This wilfulness cost him dearly; neglected by his parents and family, he suffered hardships and privations of the most afflicting nature. At length he found his way to Madras, and was, in the year 1830, brought to England by the captain of a trading vessel. During the voyage he was washed overboard by a heavy sea; but hencoops and sparsbeing thrown out, and other assistance afforded, his life was saved.

On his arrival in northern latitudes, he suffered severely from cold, and even when accustomed to the climate, he could not swallow cold water. Still, he never went near a fire, although he felt sensibly if his room was not kept warm. He was stoutly built, and generally in cheerful spirits and good health. His complexion was of a slight copper colour, and the expression of his countenance was pleasing and intelligent. His habits were temperate, and he seldom drank anything but warm water; but on birthdays and other anniversaries, he indulged in a few glasses of wine. He was fond of music and dancing, and gallant to the ladies; but his ruling passion appeared to be a fondness for jewellery and silver-plate, to which ornaments he had been accustomed in the house and at the table of the Viceroy of Manilla. His mind appeared to be deeply impressed with the tenets of the Roman Catholic church, in which his foster-father took care to have him instructed. He read his prayer-book and psalter morning and evening, very devoutly crossing himself, and performing his genuflexions and the other ceremonies inculcated by the teachers of that faith. Once or twice a month, he went to the Spanish Ambassador's chapel, where, secluded from observation, he worshipped with the sincerity and devotion of a good Catholic. Besides his native tongue, he spoke an Indianpatois, conversed freely in Portuguese, and in English indifferently well.

He became acquainted with his little wife in Birmingham, of which town she was a native. Her name was Ann Hopkins; her height was thirty-eight inches, or thirteen inches taller than her dwarf spouse. She was thirty-one years of age, and was a pretty little creature possessing much symmetry and grace. Her father stood six feet one inch and a half out of his shoes; her mother was of middle size, and her brothers and sisters, nine in number, were all tall and robust. The little Don and Donna lived together veryaffectionately, their attachment having been mutual and at first sight; their only difference of opinion being, that she being of the Protestant faith, they did not worship together. They were married on the 6th of July, 1834, in the Roman Catholic chapel at Birmingham; and two days after, at St. Martin's church, in the same town, by the Rev. Mr. Foy; the high bailiff giving away the bride. The crowd of spectators was so great that the assistance of the police was necessary to secure the ingress and egress of the little couple into and out of the church. Much uneasiness was caused to the bridegroom by the refusal of one clergyman to ratify his marriage in the Protestant church, on the supposition that it was contrary to the canon law; but this difficulty was ultimately arranged.—Abridged from the Morning Advertiser.

William Hutton, the Birmingham manufacturer, was accustomed to take a month's tour every summer, and to note down his observations on places and people. Some of the results appeared in distinct books, some in his autobiography, and some in theGentleman's Magazine, towards the close of the last century and the beginning of the present. One year he would be accompanied by his father, a tough old man, who was not frightened at a twenty-mile walk; another year he would go alone; while on one occasion his daughter went with him, she riding on horseback, and he trudging on foot by her side. Various parts of England and Wales were thus visited, at a time when tourists' facilities were slender indeed. It appears from his lists of distances that he could "do" fifteen or twenty miles a day for weeks together; although his mode of examining places led to a much slower rate of progress.

One of the odd characters which Hutton met with at Matlock, in Derbyshire, in July 1801, is worth describingin his own words. After noticing the rocks and caves at that town, he said, "The greatest wonder I saw was Miss Phœbe Bown, in person five feet six, about thirty, well-proportioned, round-faced and ruddy; a dark penetrating eye, which, the moment it fixes upon your face, stamps your character, and that with precision. Her step (pardon the Irishism) is more manly than a man's, and can easily cover forty miles a day. Her common dress is a man's hat, coat with a spencer about it, and men's shoes; I believe she is a stranger to breeches. She can lift one hundred-weight with each hand, and carry fourteen score. Can sew, knit, cook, and spin, but hates them all, and every accompaniment to the female character, except that of modesty. A gentleman at the New Bath recently treated her so rudely, that 'she had a good mind to have knocked him down.' She positively assured me she did not know what fear is. She never gives an affront, but will offer to fight anyone who gives her one. If she has not fought, perhaps it is owing to the insulter being a coward, for none else wouldgivean affront [to a woman]. She has strong sense, an excellent judgment, says smart things, and supports an easy freedom in all companies. Her voice is more than masculine, it is deep toned; the wind in her face, she can send it a mile; has no beard; accepts any kind of manual labour, as holding the plough, driving the team, thatching the ricks, &c. But her chief avocation is breaking in horses, at a guinea a week! always rides without a saddle; and is supposed the best judge of a horse, cow, &c., in the country; and is frequently requested to purchase for others at the neighbouring fairs. She is fond of Milton, Pope, Shakespeare, also of music; is self-taught; performs on several instruments, as the flute, violin, harpsichord, and supports the bass-viol in Matlock church. She is an excellent markswoman, and, like her brother-sportsmen, carries her gun upon her shoulder. She eats no beef or pork, and butlittle mutton: her chief food is milk, and also her drink—discarding wine, ale, and spirits."—From the Book of Days.

In Winchester Place, now Pentonville Road, near to the south-east corner of Penton Street, stood "Prospect House," so called from the fine view which it commanded over London and the circumjacent country. In the British Museum is a fine pen-and-ink drawing of a view of London from Pentonville, by Antonio Canaletti; and we find "Prospect House" in the rate-books in 1669; there were bowling-greens attached to it "for gentleman bowlers." Subsequently the house was named from its proprietor, and became popularly known as Dobney's, or D'Aubigny's. Mrs. Dobney, who kept the house for many years, died in 1760, at the age of eighty-six. It then passed to a new proprietor, a Mr. Johnson, who built on the bowling-green, which was near the corner of Penton Street, an amphitheatre for equestrian performances,al fresco, and engaged one Price, who had been starring at the Three Hats, a rival house close by, to exhibit his original feats of horsemanship. In 1769, the house was the scene of Philip Jonas's exhibition of "dexterity of hands;" and about this time was shown here the skeleton of a whale sixty feet long. In 1770, the house was taken for a boarding school, but was soon closed. It was then re-opened as the Jubilee Tea Gardens (from the Jubilee got up at Stratford-upon-Avon, by Garrick, in honour of Shakespeare); the interiors of the boxes were painted with scenes from some of his plays.

In 1772, the celebrated Daniel Wildman exhibited here his bees every evening (wet evenings excepted). He made several new and amazing experiments; he rode standing upright, one foot on the saddle, and the other on the horse's neck, with a curiousmask of beeson his head and face. He also rode standing upright on the saddle with the bridle inhis mouth, and by firing a pistol, made one part of the bees march over a table, and the other part swarm in the air and return to their proper hive again. Wildman's performances of the "Bees on Horseback" were also thus described:—

He with uncommon art and matchless skillCommands those insects, who obey his will;With bees others cruel means employ,They take their honey and the bees destroy;Wildman humanely, with ingenious ease,He takes the honey, but preserves the bees.

Wildman also sold bees from one stock in "the common or newly-invented hives." He published a "Guide for Bee Management" at his Bee and Honey Warehouse, No. 326, Holborn. In 1774, the gardens were much neglected, the walks not being kept in order, nor the hedges properly cut; but there were several good apartments in the house, besides handsome tea-rooms; but the ground was cleared about 1790, and the present handsome dwelling-houses in Winchester Place were built upon part of the site. The gardens, though much shorn of their beauty and attractiveness, continued in existence until the year 1810, when they disappeared; and the only memorial that remains on the site of this once famed place of amusement, is a mean court in Penton Street, known as Dobney's Court. Mr. Upcott, of the London Institution, had in his collection a drawing of Prospect House, taken about 1780.—Pinks' History of Clerkenwell.

Lord Stowell loved manly sports, and was not above being pleased with the most rude and simple diversions. He gloried in Punch and Judy—their fun stirred his mirth without, as in Goldsmith's case, provoking spleen. He made a boast on one occasion that there was not a puppet-show in London he had not visited, and when turned fourscore,was caught watching one at a distance with children of less growth in high glee. He has been known to make a party with Windham to visit Cribb's, and to have attended the Fives Court as a favourite resort. "There were curious characters," he observed, "to be seen at these places." He was the most indefatigable sight-seer in London. Whatever show could be visited for a shilling, or less, was visited by Lord Stowell. In the western end of London there was a room generally let for exhibitions. At the entrance, as it is said, Lord Stowell presented himself, eager to see "the green monster serpent," which had lately issued cards of invitation to the public. As he was pulling out his purse to pay for his admission, a sharp but honest north-country lad, whose business it was to take the money, recognised him as an old customer, and knowing his name, thus addressed him: "We can't take your shilling, my lord; 'tis the old serpent which you have seen twice before in other colours; but ye shall go in and see her." He entered, saved his money, and enjoyed his third visit to the painted beauty. This love of seeing sights was, on another occasion, productive of the following whimsical incident. Some thirty years ago, an animal, called a "Bonassus," was exhibited in the Strand. On Lord Stowell's paying it a second visit, the keeper very courteously told his lordship that he was welcome to come, gratuitously, as often as he pleased. Within a day or two after this, however, there appeared, under the bills of the exhibition, in conspicuous characters, "Under the patronage of the Right Hon. Lord Stowell;" an announcement of which the noble and learned lord's friends availed themselves, by passing many a joke upon him; all of which he took with the greatest good humour.

Lord Stowell was a great eater, and, says Mr. Surtees, "the feats which he performed with the knife and fork were eclipsed by those which he would afterwards display with the bottle." His habits were slovenly and unclean. "The hand that could pen the neatest of periods was itself oftendirty and unwashed; and the mouth which could utter eloquence so graceful, or such playful wit, fed voraciously, and selected the most greasy food." Then again, he was an unquestionable miser. He kept a very mean establishment. Fond as he was of his wine, he would drink less at his own than at other tables. "He could drink anygivenquantity," as was wittily observed by his brother, Lord Eldon, but was abstemious where he had to pay. The most painful fact that remains to be recorded respecting him is, that when his only son William had formed an attachment that was unexceptionable, he, though it may be said he rolled in riches, would not make him a sufficient allowance to enable him to marry. It has been stated that his son died from the effects of intemperate habits; and it must be added, that but for this disappointment the young man might have lived. In despair he plunged into excesses. His father just survived him, and his great wealth was gathered up by collaterals. Perhaps his fondness of poking about London, visiting cheap shows, was connected more with his avarice than with his curiosity. After his elevation to the peerage, he was actually seen coming out of a penny show in London—cheap excitement! Like Lord Eldon, though a great friend of the church, he never attended public worship. What had been said of his brother might have been said of him, that he was more properly a buttress of the church than a pillar, for he was never seen inside it. At the same time, there is no reason to doubt that he was a good Christian; probably, like many other University men, he had a surfeit of chapels when at college, and shuddered at the thought of again entering one. With all his failings, and notwithstanding his avarice, which increased with his years, Lord Stowell must be regarded as having been, after a peculiar sort, a kindly, amiable man.

In the Forest of Hainault, in Essex, about a mile from Barking side, stood the famous Fairlop Oak, which the tradition of the country traces half-way up the Christian era. This forest possesses more beautiful scenery than, perhaps, any other forest in England. Fifty years since the oak was still a noble tree. About a yard from the ground, where its bole was thirty-six feet in circumference, it spread into eleven vast arms, yet not in the manner of an oak, but rather in that of a beech, its shade overspreading an area of 300 feet in circuit. Around this fine old tree, eighty years since, archery meetings were held by the gentry of the district, with picnics in tents, bands of music, &c.; and then, to protect the old oak, it was enclosed with a spiked paling, inscribed as follows: "All good foresters are requested not to hurt this old tree, as a plaister has been put to its wounds." The extremities of its branches had been sawn off, and Forsyth's composition applied to them, to preserve them from decay.

But the tree has a more popular history. Upon a small estate, near the oak, in the last century, there dwelt one John Day, a well-to-do block and pump maker, of Wapping, who used to repair annually, on the first Friday in July, to the forest, and there meet a party of his neighbours, and dine under the shade of the famous oak, onbeans and bacon. In the course of a few years, Day's rural feast induced other parties to follow his homely example, and suttling booths were erected for their accommodation. In addition to the entertainment given to his friends, Mr. Day never failed, on the day of the feast, to provide several sacks of beans, with a proportionate quantity of bacon, which he distributed from the trunk of the tree to the persons there assembled. About the year 1723, the scene on the first Friday in July exhibited the appearance of aregular fair, such as John Gay, in oneof hisPastorals, almost contemporaneously describes in these lines:—

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