A SHAKESPEARIAN EXCURSUS.Merc.—“Young Abraham Cupid, he that shot so trim.”—Romeo and Juliet, act ii. sc. I.[83]Certainly, this very singular prefix to the ordinary appellation of the god of love suggests difficulties of interpretation not easy of solution. It would appear to be one of those cant phrases familiar enough, we may presume, at a certain period, for, if not readily to be understood, the poet was unlikely to make use of it in such a connection. But the reason for its application has passed out of mind, and all the commentators have been at a loss to discover its meaning. Mr. Singer, editor of a well-known edition of the poet’s plays, disposes of the embarrassment in a manner equally summary and, as it seems to us, unsatisfactory. Accepting the suggestion of Mr. Upton, another commentator, that the word “Abraham” should be “Adam,” these critics agree in conferring upon Cupid a prænomen which it is clear neither Shakespeare nor his early editors affixed to the name by which he is usually known. It is equally certain that no other writer has ever employed the term “Adam” in such a way. In this state of the case, we seem still left to seek the meaning of the word “Abraham,” as thus used. In order to exhibit the whole merits of the question, let us subjoin the note of Mr. Singer in reference to it, and also that of Mr. Richard Grant White, editor of an American editionof Shakespeare. Mr. Singer remarks:“All the old copies readAbrahamCupid. The alteration was proposed by Mr. Upton. It evidently alludes to the famous archer, Adam Bell. So in Decker’sSatiromastix: ‘He shoots his bolt but seldom, but, when Adam lets go, he hits.’ ‘He shoots at thee, too, Adam Bell; and his arrows stick here.’ The ballad alluded to is ‘King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid,’ or, as it is called in some copies, ‘The Song of a Beggar and a King.’ It may be seen in the first volume of Percy’sReliques of Ancient Poetry. The following stanza Shakespeare had particularly in view:‘Theblindedboy, thatshoots so trim,From heaven down did hie;He drew a dart, and shot at him,In place where he did lie.’”—Singer’s Note.Now, though it cannot be doubted that Shakespeare had in mindthe blinded boy that shoots so trim, as set forth in the ballad referred to, nor that the expression “shot so trim” grew out of it, yet this fact is far from affording good reason for the belief that he had also Adam Bell in view, or that he had any thought of conferring the Christian name of that noted outlaw upon Cupid himself. The presumption would be that howevertrima bowman that “belted forestere” may have been, yet the skill of Cupid in this respect is too preeminent and well allowed, to admit of any compliment or illustration derived from the name of the very best merely human archer who ever drew cloth-yard shaft to ear. Mr. Singer appears to us, therefore, to have been misled by a merely superficial analogy into too great confidence in an improvident suggestion, when he ventured to substitute a conjectural emendation of the text for a reading which was uniform in “all the old copies.”The note of Mr. White is as follows:“Upton gave us theAdamwhich takes the place of ‘Abraham’ in all the current editions, except Mr. Knight’s. But, as Mr. Dyce says, there is not the slightest authority for the change. The last-named gentleman conjectures that ‘Abraham’ in this line is a corruption ofAuburn; as it is unquestionably in the following passages which he quotes:‘Where is the oldest sonne of Pryam,That Abraham coloured Troian? Dead.’—Soliman and Perseda, 1599, sig. H, 3.‘A goodlie, long, thicke Abram colored beard.’—Middleton’s Blurt,Master-Constable, 1602, sig. D.And inCoriolanus, act ii. sc. iii.‘Not that our heads are some browns, some blacke, some Abram,’as we read in the first three folios.“The suggestion is more than plausible; and we at least owe to Mr. Dyce the efficient protection which it must give to the original text. Cupid is always represented by the old painters as auburn-haired.”[84]But Mr. White, it will be observed, begs the question as to the passages quoted from other authors. These passages simply prove that “Abraham coloured” and “Abram colored,” as applied to the hair and the beard, were common enough expressions at and before the time of Shakespeare. Besides, only conceive whether it would be characteristic of Shakespeare to write so tamely as “Young auburn Cupid”!In fact, the term in question must have had a pertinent, significant, and peculiar meaning, well understood by his contemporaries.Mr. Knight conceives the termAbrahamto be thus appropriated from the vagrants and beggars called “Abraham-men,” who were too often cheats;[85]and it is to be feared thathe thus means us to imply the propriety of the appellation in this instance, upon the ungallant hypothesis that Cupid is himself the prince and chief exemplar of deceivers in general. But this specific characteristic we have always understood to belong to Mercury. For however, popularly, Cupid is estimated as a gay deceiver, Mercury was held by the Greeks the god of fraud and falsehood. The sailors have a phrase of “shamming Abraham” when one of the crew shirks his duty on pretence of sickness or for any other pretended excuse. No one seems to have thought of the possible origin of this proverbial expression, as used in reference to the beggars from whose habits it is evidently derived. It has occurred to us that, since Abraham was the father of the faithful, that is, the person most eminent for faith, his name may have been thus taken up, in a manner savoring more of wit than of reverence, in relation to persons disposed to live rather byfaiththan byworks—in fact, who showed the amplitude of their trust in whatever might turn up, oftentimes in a somewhat questionable shape, by doing no work at all. This would manifestly be a sort ofshamming Abraham.But however this may be, since all the old copies readAbrahamCupid, and since the alteration of the text commended by Mr. Singer and others cannot be justified upon any grounds which they offer, or in any other mode, we must find some means of explaining the phrase as it stands, or remain in the dark as to its true interpretation. Certainly the matter is not at all cleared up by unauthorized substitution. Against Mr. Knight’s theory, on the other hand, militates the plain fact that, in every example cited, unless the one in controversy be taken as an exception, the word stands for a certaincolor, and not as qualifying any moral characteristic, or implying any personal defect. There is a difficulty, besides, in theauburnhypothesis which it must be admitted is hard to get over. Supposing the word had been found written as it is, nowhere but in these two passages of Shakespeare, it might, perhaps, so pass muster. He might not very unnaturally be thought to have put such a corrupt form of the wordauburnpurposely into the mouth of the worthy citizen inCoriolanus; and the termauburn, in such a connection, but misprinted in the course of time, might possibly be considered not absolutely inconsistent with the character of Mercutio and the strain of his speech. But when we find the same word used by two other writers contemporary with Shakespeare, both of whom would be likely to know the correct form and so to write it, if “Abraham” or “Abram” were merely a corrupt form of it, and especially as in one of the examples it occurs in a serious passage of a tragedy—it seems much more probable that the term “Abraham” itself, as so applied, had its own distinct and well-understood meaning, so familiar as to excite, at that period, no necessarily ludicrous association. And that this termAbrahamwas a cant phrase which had come into common use is actually implied by the correspondent expression in the preceding line of this very speech of Mercutio:“Speak to my gossip, Venus, one fair word,Onenicknamefor her purblind son and heir;YoungAbrahamCupid, he that shot so trim.”Now, it is obvious thatauburn, as being a common adjective, could constitute no nickname; whereas Abraham, as a noun proper, and at the same time signifying a certain color, serves that purpose completely, as, for example,Cicero, orNasica.We must own that a passage in Bishop Hall’sSatiresat first a little puzzled us, viz.:“A lustie courtier whose curled headWithabronlocks was fairly furnished.”[86]But upon reflection it will be found that, althoughabron, at first sight, looks much more like auburn than does eitherAbrahamorAbram, and it might appear, therefore, to be, in fact, a less corrupt form of that word than either of the other terms, yet, on the other hand,abronis itself both in form and sound much nearerAbramthan it is toauburn, and may, therefore, be only a misspelt variation of the first rather than of the second expression.In this philological dilemma, we believe we are able to throw a gleam of light on the obscurity; and, though the explanation is derived from a source apparently remote, there is, nevertheless, good ground for thinking it may prove satisfactory. We happen to have in our possession a copy of the quarto edition of the Latin Dictionary published at Cambridge, England, in 1693, which is the foundation of those dictionaries of the Latin language in common use which have succeeded it. The wordvitexis thus translated in it: “A kind of withy or willow, commonly called agnus castus, in English, park-leaves,Abraham’s balm, chaste orhemptree.”Now, it is no less certain than melancholy to reflect upon that our respected ancestry, like their descendants, were compelled to supply the loss of hair by some adventitious covering, and that their periwigs were sometimes perhaps commonly manufactured out of either the coarser or the finer filament of flax or hemp, since those made of hair were very costly. We are confident we have read of a splendid and no doubt full-bottomed article of the latter material costing as much as fifty guineas, a couple of centuries ago.[87]We speak of flax and hemp indiscriminately, however botanically different, as those predecessors of ours were in the habit of doing, and as being, in fact, used for similar purposes,e.g., “Except the flax or hemp plant, and a few other plants, there is very little herbage of any sort.”[88]To the coarser filament of both, after the article is heckled, is still, we believe, applied the name oftow. In either case, the substance, when thus subjected to the nicer process of manufacture, presents that well-known whitish brown color so often and so enthusiastically celebrated by the elder English poets in the aspect of “flaxen locks.” We do not know, and, after considerable research, have been unable to ascertain with accuracy, what was the peculiar relation of the “hemp-tree” to those other vegetable productions; but infer from the name that there was a certain resemblance in the fibre of the one to the others, and that probably to some extent it was formerly used for similar purposes. At any rate, it is only with the name and the associations it calls up that we have particularly to do. If the hemp-tree, otherwise called “Abraham’s balm,” furnished when manufactured an article similar in color to that of the other vegetable productions referred to, a sufficient foundation is laid for this inquiry.Bosworth’sDictionary of the Anglo-Saxon Languageaffords a striking illustration of the general subject.He says that “flax signified, in earlier times, alsohairand all kinds of hairy thread. In Austria, the flax is called haar, hair. The Danish hör signifies the same.” He adds: “The Old English flix-down, soft hair, is another instance that flax in earlier ages was used to designate hair.”Of the metaphorical use of the word the poets are full of pregnant examples, for instance:“Her flaxen haire, insnaring all beholders,She next permits to wave about her shoulders.”[89]“All flaxen was his poll.”[90]“Adown the shoulders of the heavenly fairIn easy ringlets flowed her flaxen hair;And with a golden comb, in matchless grace,She taught each lock its most becoming place.”[91]If to these examples we add the following passage, we shall perceive that the hue in question enjoyed a special distinction and favor:“The four colors signify the four virtues; theflaxey, having a whiteness, appertains to temperance, because it makescandidam et mundam animam.”[92]And as this is a hue which frequently distinguishes the heads of youngsters, a large proportion of whom, at an early period of life, we know aswhite-headedurchins, and in England as well as in the United States even astow-heads, we are very strongly inclined to believe the color and the term “Abraham” or “Abram” to be thus derived from association, and to be so applied to the boy Cupid; the wordAbraham, in this connection, having come to express, to a certain extent, thetow, or the color of the tow, ofhemp, or flax, or equally of the finer part which remains after the tow is combed out. So that, in all probability, the cant term “Abraham,” as thus applied in Shakespeare’s day, meant precisely the same asflaxen, with, perhaps, a slightly humorous allusion. And in this view of the case, we must put in acaveatto the allegation of Mr. White, that, if “Cupid is always represented by the old painters as auburn-haired,” then they have so depictured him without sufficient authority; indeed, in contradiction of the best authorities; for the classical evidence on this point will show his hair to be described as of that color which is usually known by the style of “flaxen”; since auburn is really a dun color, or “reddish brown,” whereas Cupid’s hair was flaxen, or, as we now say, blonde. For instance:“The god of love was usually represented as a plump-cheeked boy, rosy and naked, withlighthair floating on his shoulders.”[93]“Eros is usually represented as a roguish boy, plump-cheeked and naked, withlighthair floating on his shoulders.”[94]We cannot but think, therefore, that this manifest distinction of hue effectually disposes of the theory that “abron” stands for any misspelling ofauburn, as suggested by Mr. Dyce, and adopted by Mr. White.It appears, by the bye, that this sameagnus castus, or hemp-tree, which has given occasion for these remarks, was supposed from an early period to possess some peculiar virtues, which prompted its other appellation of “The Chaste Tree”; and to this circumstance was owing, doubtless, its introduction by the poets in their descriptions of various ceremonials. Thus, Chaucer has three several references to it in his “Floure andLeafe,” and very noticeably, as follows:“Some of laurer, and some full pleasantlyHad chaplets of woodbind; and, sadly,Some ofagnus castusweren alsoChaplets fresh.”So Dryden, also, modernizing this very passage of the older poet:“Of laurel some, of woodbine many more,And wreaths ofagnus castusmany bore.”It ought to be suggested that the statement herein made as to the earlier practice of wearing wigs of flax and tow, in addition to some direct evidence to the point, is partly a matter of inference, and partly due to rather vague recollections of youthful studies (to which we have not thought it worth while to recur) among the romance writers of the last century. Their famous heroes undoubtedly were more or less familiar with “Abraham-men” and personages of that description; and it must be confessed that the impression of the “tow-wigs” worn, for purposes of disguise or with whatever object, by the highwaymen, sturdy beggars, and other worthies introduced into their novels, is amongst the strongest left on our mind by those lucubrations of their genius.The inference which we have ventured upon is that, since wigs were articles of supposed necessity, and certainly have been used from early times; and since those manufactured of hair must have been much more costly in former days than at present, the probabilities are very strong that this important description of head-gear was made, more or less commonly, out of that material which still, we believe, affords the foundation of those ingenious works of art, the color and beauty of which furnished the poets with an ordinary and apt illustration of bright and flowing locks.We are not without testimony on this point, however, and that, too, of no less authority than Walter Scott, which is literally to the point:“The identical Peter wears a huge great-coat, threadbare and patched. His hair, half gray half black, escaped in elf-locks around a huge wigmade of tow, as it seemed to me.”[95]Addison also tells us, in a paper of theSpectator, as quoted by Johnson:“I bought a fine flaxen long wig.”It is true, Dr. Johnson cites this example in hisDictionaryas only meaning something “fair, long, and flowing, as if made of flax”; but we are far from thinking the qualification of his definition inevitably correct, any more than in some other well-known instances. The great lexicographer imagines a wig of hair as presenting the appearance of one made of flax; but we see no reason why the excellentSpectatorshould not be taken literally according to his expression; nor why he may not have appeared upon the occasion to which he refers in a veritable wig of flax, especially since such an object of manufacture was common, could be made to bear so close a resemblance to hair, probably looked better, and was of much less cost. We find a still more decisive example in theSpectator, which scarcely admits of any other than the most literal interpretation:“The greatest beau at our next county sessions was dressed in a most monstrous flaxen periwig that was made in King William’s reign.”[96]The following example is equally pertinent:“A fair, flaxen, full-bottomed periwig.”[97]In this instance, the word “fair” would seem clearly to apply to the color, and “flaxen” to the material, for otherwise the use of both expressions would be tautological.Indeed, we have not left this matter to conjecture and inference merely; for we took occasion to inquire upon this topic, several years ago, of a late celebrated hair-dresser; and, in fact, these notes have been kept on hand for a period considerably longer than the nine years prescribed by Horace for the due refinement and perfection of immortal verse. Our excellent friend, M. Charrier, of Boston, informed us that he had been called upon to manufacture actual wigs of the filament of flax; and he remembered one particular occasion, when an article of special beauty was required for the use of a popular actress, who was to perform in a play which he thought was called “The fair maid with the golden locks.”[98]Thus we trace the article to the stage itself, and there, in all probability, its construction of the material in question is traditional, and is much more likely to have originated at a period earlier than the time of Shakespeare than at a later date. Of course, if M. Charrier had lived to our day, he would have found plenty of business in constructing those mountainous piles of various vegetable material with which ladies now see fit to load their heads—“some browne, some blacke, some Abram.”[99]In corroboration of these views, explanatory, we hope, of the strange expression, Abraham Cupid, to modern eyes and ears, we have just met with a singularly apt illustration. A very young lady of our family received last Christmas, as a present, a doll with a remarkable head of hair. It was long, fine, profuse, admirably curled, and exactly of that brilliantly fair color, the lightest possible shade of brown, sometimes but rarely seen in its perfection on the heads of young persons, and of the hue which might well be imagined as a peculiar and suitable attribute of the god of love. An examination of this attractive ornament to the seat of whatever intellect a doll might be supposed to possess showed at once, that it was skilfully manufactured, doubtless by accomplished French artisans, of the filament of flax.[100]From these premises the following propositions seem to be fairly deducible:1. That, in the time of Shakespeare, the wordAbrahamwas sometimes employed as a cant term expressive of a certain color.2. That, since the name “Abraham’s balm” was used for a certain shrub or bush, otherwise called the hemp-tree, the color in question was probably that of dressed hemp or flax, which nearly resembled each other in hue; the word tow being still applied to the coarse filament of both.3. That the color attributed to “flaxen locks,” so celebrated through the whole range of English poetry, is, in fact, that light and fair, that is, blonde, color of the hair assigned to Cupid.4. That “Young Abraham Cupid,” therefore, means nothing else thanflaxen-hairedorfair-hairedCupid.In regard to the term “Abraham’s balm,” as applied to the hemp-tree, we beg leave to suggest that such an appellation may have been bestowed on such a tree, as intimating a natural and appropriate cure for such infirmities as resulted in mistakes about property, to which we may suppose Abraham-men and their associates were only too subject. The figure may be thought similar to that highly metaphorical expression conveyed by the passage:“Ye shall have a hempen caudle, then.”[101]As to “Abraham-men,” a rope may, in fact, have been thought, in extreme cases, a “balmfor hurt minds.”
A SHAKESPEARIAN EXCURSUS.Merc.—“Young Abraham Cupid, he that shot so trim.”—Romeo and Juliet, act ii. sc. I.[83]Certainly, this very singular prefix to the ordinary appellation of the god of love suggests difficulties of interpretation not easy of solution. It would appear to be one of those cant phrases familiar enough, we may presume, at a certain period, for, if not readily to be understood, the poet was unlikely to make use of it in such a connection. But the reason for its application has passed out of mind, and all the commentators have been at a loss to discover its meaning. Mr. Singer, editor of a well-known edition of the poet’s plays, disposes of the embarrassment in a manner equally summary and, as it seems to us, unsatisfactory. Accepting the suggestion of Mr. Upton, another commentator, that the word “Abraham” should be “Adam,” these critics agree in conferring upon Cupid a prænomen which it is clear neither Shakespeare nor his early editors affixed to the name by which he is usually known. It is equally certain that no other writer has ever employed the term “Adam” in such a way. In this state of the case, we seem still left to seek the meaning of the word “Abraham,” as thus used. In order to exhibit the whole merits of the question, let us subjoin the note of Mr. Singer in reference to it, and also that of Mr. Richard Grant White, editor of an American editionof Shakespeare. Mr. Singer remarks:“All the old copies readAbrahamCupid. The alteration was proposed by Mr. Upton. It evidently alludes to the famous archer, Adam Bell. So in Decker’sSatiromastix: ‘He shoots his bolt but seldom, but, when Adam lets go, he hits.’ ‘He shoots at thee, too, Adam Bell; and his arrows stick here.’ The ballad alluded to is ‘King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid,’ or, as it is called in some copies, ‘The Song of a Beggar and a King.’ It may be seen in the first volume of Percy’sReliques of Ancient Poetry. The following stanza Shakespeare had particularly in view:‘Theblindedboy, thatshoots so trim,From heaven down did hie;He drew a dart, and shot at him,In place where he did lie.’”—Singer’s Note.Now, though it cannot be doubted that Shakespeare had in mindthe blinded boy that shoots so trim, as set forth in the ballad referred to, nor that the expression “shot so trim” grew out of it, yet this fact is far from affording good reason for the belief that he had also Adam Bell in view, or that he had any thought of conferring the Christian name of that noted outlaw upon Cupid himself. The presumption would be that howevertrima bowman that “belted forestere” may have been, yet the skill of Cupid in this respect is too preeminent and well allowed, to admit of any compliment or illustration derived from the name of the very best merely human archer who ever drew cloth-yard shaft to ear. Mr. Singer appears to us, therefore, to have been misled by a merely superficial analogy into too great confidence in an improvident suggestion, when he ventured to substitute a conjectural emendation of the text for a reading which was uniform in “all the old copies.”The note of Mr. White is as follows:“Upton gave us theAdamwhich takes the place of ‘Abraham’ in all the current editions, except Mr. Knight’s. But, as Mr. Dyce says, there is not the slightest authority for the change. The last-named gentleman conjectures that ‘Abraham’ in this line is a corruption ofAuburn; as it is unquestionably in the following passages which he quotes:‘Where is the oldest sonne of Pryam,That Abraham coloured Troian? Dead.’—Soliman and Perseda, 1599, sig. H, 3.‘A goodlie, long, thicke Abram colored beard.’—Middleton’s Blurt,Master-Constable, 1602, sig. D.And inCoriolanus, act ii. sc. iii.‘Not that our heads are some browns, some blacke, some Abram,’as we read in the first three folios.“The suggestion is more than plausible; and we at least owe to Mr. Dyce the efficient protection which it must give to the original text. Cupid is always represented by the old painters as auburn-haired.”[84]But Mr. White, it will be observed, begs the question as to the passages quoted from other authors. These passages simply prove that “Abraham coloured” and “Abram colored,” as applied to the hair and the beard, were common enough expressions at and before the time of Shakespeare. Besides, only conceive whether it would be characteristic of Shakespeare to write so tamely as “Young auburn Cupid”!In fact, the term in question must have had a pertinent, significant, and peculiar meaning, well understood by his contemporaries.Mr. Knight conceives the termAbrahamto be thus appropriated from the vagrants and beggars called “Abraham-men,” who were too often cheats;[85]and it is to be feared thathe thus means us to imply the propriety of the appellation in this instance, upon the ungallant hypothesis that Cupid is himself the prince and chief exemplar of deceivers in general. But this specific characteristic we have always understood to belong to Mercury. For however, popularly, Cupid is estimated as a gay deceiver, Mercury was held by the Greeks the god of fraud and falsehood. The sailors have a phrase of “shamming Abraham” when one of the crew shirks his duty on pretence of sickness or for any other pretended excuse. No one seems to have thought of the possible origin of this proverbial expression, as used in reference to the beggars from whose habits it is evidently derived. It has occurred to us that, since Abraham was the father of the faithful, that is, the person most eminent for faith, his name may have been thus taken up, in a manner savoring more of wit than of reverence, in relation to persons disposed to live rather byfaiththan byworks—in fact, who showed the amplitude of their trust in whatever might turn up, oftentimes in a somewhat questionable shape, by doing no work at all. This would manifestly be a sort ofshamming Abraham.But however this may be, since all the old copies readAbrahamCupid, and since the alteration of the text commended by Mr. Singer and others cannot be justified upon any grounds which they offer, or in any other mode, we must find some means of explaining the phrase as it stands, or remain in the dark as to its true interpretation. Certainly the matter is not at all cleared up by unauthorized substitution. Against Mr. Knight’s theory, on the other hand, militates the plain fact that, in every example cited, unless the one in controversy be taken as an exception, the word stands for a certaincolor, and not as qualifying any moral characteristic, or implying any personal defect. There is a difficulty, besides, in theauburnhypothesis which it must be admitted is hard to get over. Supposing the word had been found written as it is, nowhere but in these two passages of Shakespeare, it might, perhaps, so pass muster. He might not very unnaturally be thought to have put such a corrupt form of the wordauburnpurposely into the mouth of the worthy citizen inCoriolanus; and the termauburn, in such a connection, but misprinted in the course of time, might possibly be considered not absolutely inconsistent with the character of Mercutio and the strain of his speech. But when we find the same word used by two other writers contemporary with Shakespeare, both of whom would be likely to know the correct form and so to write it, if “Abraham” or “Abram” were merely a corrupt form of it, and especially as in one of the examples it occurs in a serious passage of a tragedy—it seems much more probable that the term “Abraham” itself, as so applied, had its own distinct and well-understood meaning, so familiar as to excite, at that period, no necessarily ludicrous association. And that this termAbrahamwas a cant phrase which had come into common use is actually implied by the correspondent expression in the preceding line of this very speech of Mercutio:“Speak to my gossip, Venus, one fair word,Onenicknamefor her purblind son and heir;YoungAbrahamCupid, he that shot so trim.”Now, it is obvious thatauburn, as being a common adjective, could constitute no nickname; whereas Abraham, as a noun proper, and at the same time signifying a certain color, serves that purpose completely, as, for example,Cicero, orNasica.We must own that a passage in Bishop Hall’sSatiresat first a little puzzled us, viz.:“A lustie courtier whose curled headWithabronlocks was fairly furnished.”[86]But upon reflection it will be found that, althoughabron, at first sight, looks much more like auburn than does eitherAbrahamorAbram, and it might appear, therefore, to be, in fact, a less corrupt form of that word than either of the other terms, yet, on the other hand,abronis itself both in form and sound much nearerAbramthan it is toauburn, and may, therefore, be only a misspelt variation of the first rather than of the second expression.In this philological dilemma, we believe we are able to throw a gleam of light on the obscurity; and, though the explanation is derived from a source apparently remote, there is, nevertheless, good ground for thinking it may prove satisfactory. We happen to have in our possession a copy of the quarto edition of the Latin Dictionary published at Cambridge, England, in 1693, which is the foundation of those dictionaries of the Latin language in common use which have succeeded it. The wordvitexis thus translated in it: “A kind of withy or willow, commonly called agnus castus, in English, park-leaves,Abraham’s balm, chaste orhemptree.”Now, it is no less certain than melancholy to reflect upon that our respected ancestry, like their descendants, were compelled to supply the loss of hair by some adventitious covering, and that their periwigs were sometimes perhaps commonly manufactured out of either the coarser or the finer filament of flax or hemp, since those made of hair were very costly. We are confident we have read of a splendid and no doubt full-bottomed article of the latter material costing as much as fifty guineas, a couple of centuries ago.[87]We speak of flax and hemp indiscriminately, however botanically different, as those predecessors of ours were in the habit of doing, and as being, in fact, used for similar purposes,e.g., “Except the flax or hemp plant, and a few other plants, there is very little herbage of any sort.”[88]To the coarser filament of both, after the article is heckled, is still, we believe, applied the name oftow. In either case, the substance, when thus subjected to the nicer process of manufacture, presents that well-known whitish brown color so often and so enthusiastically celebrated by the elder English poets in the aspect of “flaxen locks.” We do not know, and, after considerable research, have been unable to ascertain with accuracy, what was the peculiar relation of the “hemp-tree” to those other vegetable productions; but infer from the name that there was a certain resemblance in the fibre of the one to the others, and that probably to some extent it was formerly used for similar purposes. At any rate, it is only with the name and the associations it calls up that we have particularly to do. If the hemp-tree, otherwise called “Abraham’s balm,” furnished when manufactured an article similar in color to that of the other vegetable productions referred to, a sufficient foundation is laid for this inquiry.Bosworth’sDictionary of the Anglo-Saxon Languageaffords a striking illustration of the general subject.He says that “flax signified, in earlier times, alsohairand all kinds of hairy thread. In Austria, the flax is called haar, hair. The Danish hör signifies the same.” He adds: “The Old English flix-down, soft hair, is another instance that flax in earlier ages was used to designate hair.”Of the metaphorical use of the word the poets are full of pregnant examples, for instance:“Her flaxen haire, insnaring all beholders,She next permits to wave about her shoulders.”[89]“All flaxen was his poll.”[90]“Adown the shoulders of the heavenly fairIn easy ringlets flowed her flaxen hair;And with a golden comb, in matchless grace,She taught each lock its most becoming place.”[91]If to these examples we add the following passage, we shall perceive that the hue in question enjoyed a special distinction and favor:“The four colors signify the four virtues; theflaxey, having a whiteness, appertains to temperance, because it makescandidam et mundam animam.”[92]And as this is a hue which frequently distinguishes the heads of youngsters, a large proportion of whom, at an early period of life, we know aswhite-headedurchins, and in England as well as in the United States even astow-heads, we are very strongly inclined to believe the color and the term “Abraham” or “Abram” to be thus derived from association, and to be so applied to the boy Cupid; the wordAbraham, in this connection, having come to express, to a certain extent, thetow, or the color of the tow, ofhemp, or flax, or equally of the finer part which remains after the tow is combed out. So that, in all probability, the cant term “Abraham,” as thus applied in Shakespeare’s day, meant precisely the same asflaxen, with, perhaps, a slightly humorous allusion. And in this view of the case, we must put in acaveatto the allegation of Mr. White, that, if “Cupid is always represented by the old painters as auburn-haired,” then they have so depictured him without sufficient authority; indeed, in contradiction of the best authorities; for the classical evidence on this point will show his hair to be described as of that color which is usually known by the style of “flaxen”; since auburn is really a dun color, or “reddish brown,” whereas Cupid’s hair was flaxen, or, as we now say, blonde. For instance:“The god of love was usually represented as a plump-cheeked boy, rosy and naked, withlighthair floating on his shoulders.”[93]“Eros is usually represented as a roguish boy, plump-cheeked and naked, withlighthair floating on his shoulders.”[94]We cannot but think, therefore, that this manifest distinction of hue effectually disposes of the theory that “abron” stands for any misspelling ofauburn, as suggested by Mr. Dyce, and adopted by Mr. White.It appears, by the bye, that this sameagnus castus, or hemp-tree, which has given occasion for these remarks, was supposed from an early period to possess some peculiar virtues, which prompted its other appellation of “The Chaste Tree”; and to this circumstance was owing, doubtless, its introduction by the poets in their descriptions of various ceremonials. Thus, Chaucer has three several references to it in his “Floure andLeafe,” and very noticeably, as follows:“Some of laurer, and some full pleasantlyHad chaplets of woodbind; and, sadly,Some ofagnus castusweren alsoChaplets fresh.”So Dryden, also, modernizing this very passage of the older poet:“Of laurel some, of woodbine many more,And wreaths ofagnus castusmany bore.”It ought to be suggested that the statement herein made as to the earlier practice of wearing wigs of flax and tow, in addition to some direct evidence to the point, is partly a matter of inference, and partly due to rather vague recollections of youthful studies (to which we have not thought it worth while to recur) among the romance writers of the last century. Their famous heroes undoubtedly were more or less familiar with “Abraham-men” and personages of that description; and it must be confessed that the impression of the “tow-wigs” worn, for purposes of disguise or with whatever object, by the highwaymen, sturdy beggars, and other worthies introduced into their novels, is amongst the strongest left on our mind by those lucubrations of their genius.The inference which we have ventured upon is that, since wigs were articles of supposed necessity, and certainly have been used from early times; and since those manufactured of hair must have been much more costly in former days than at present, the probabilities are very strong that this important description of head-gear was made, more or less commonly, out of that material which still, we believe, affords the foundation of those ingenious works of art, the color and beauty of which furnished the poets with an ordinary and apt illustration of bright and flowing locks.We are not without testimony on this point, however, and that, too, of no less authority than Walter Scott, which is literally to the point:“The identical Peter wears a huge great-coat, threadbare and patched. His hair, half gray half black, escaped in elf-locks around a huge wigmade of tow, as it seemed to me.”[95]Addison also tells us, in a paper of theSpectator, as quoted by Johnson:“I bought a fine flaxen long wig.”It is true, Dr. Johnson cites this example in hisDictionaryas only meaning something “fair, long, and flowing, as if made of flax”; but we are far from thinking the qualification of his definition inevitably correct, any more than in some other well-known instances. The great lexicographer imagines a wig of hair as presenting the appearance of one made of flax; but we see no reason why the excellentSpectatorshould not be taken literally according to his expression; nor why he may not have appeared upon the occasion to which he refers in a veritable wig of flax, especially since such an object of manufacture was common, could be made to bear so close a resemblance to hair, probably looked better, and was of much less cost. We find a still more decisive example in theSpectator, which scarcely admits of any other than the most literal interpretation:“The greatest beau at our next county sessions was dressed in a most monstrous flaxen periwig that was made in King William’s reign.”[96]The following example is equally pertinent:“A fair, flaxen, full-bottomed periwig.”[97]In this instance, the word “fair” would seem clearly to apply to the color, and “flaxen” to the material, for otherwise the use of both expressions would be tautological.Indeed, we have not left this matter to conjecture and inference merely; for we took occasion to inquire upon this topic, several years ago, of a late celebrated hair-dresser; and, in fact, these notes have been kept on hand for a period considerably longer than the nine years prescribed by Horace for the due refinement and perfection of immortal verse. Our excellent friend, M. Charrier, of Boston, informed us that he had been called upon to manufacture actual wigs of the filament of flax; and he remembered one particular occasion, when an article of special beauty was required for the use of a popular actress, who was to perform in a play which he thought was called “The fair maid with the golden locks.”[98]Thus we trace the article to the stage itself, and there, in all probability, its construction of the material in question is traditional, and is much more likely to have originated at a period earlier than the time of Shakespeare than at a later date. Of course, if M. Charrier had lived to our day, he would have found plenty of business in constructing those mountainous piles of various vegetable material with which ladies now see fit to load their heads—“some browne, some blacke, some Abram.”[99]In corroboration of these views, explanatory, we hope, of the strange expression, Abraham Cupid, to modern eyes and ears, we have just met with a singularly apt illustration. A very young lady of our family received last Christmas, as a present, a doll with a remarkable head of hair. It was long, fine, profuse, admirably curled, and exactly of that brilliantly fair color, the lightest possible shade of brown, sometimes but rarely seen in its perfection on the heads of young persons, and of the hue which might well be imagined as a peculiar and suitable attribute of the god of love. An examination of this attractive ornament to the seat of whatever intellect a doll might be supposed to possess showed at once, that it was skilfully manufactured, doubtless by accomplished French artisans, of the filament of flax.[100]From these premises the following propositions seem to be fairly deducible:1. That, in the time of Shakespeare, the wordAbrahamwas sometimes employed as a cant term expressive of a certain color.2. That, since the name “Abraham’s balm” was used for a certain shrub or bush, otherwise called the hemp-tree, the color in question was probably that of dressed hemp or flax, which nearly resembled each other in hue; the word tow being still applied to the coarse filament of both.3. That the color attributed to “flaxen locks,” so celebrated through the whole range of English poetry, is, in fact, that light and fair, that is, blonde, color of the hair assigned to Cupid.4. That “Young Abraham Cupid,” therefore, means nothing else thanflaxen-hairedorfair-hairedCupid.In regard to the term “Abraham’s balm,” as applied to the hemp-tree, we beg leave to suggest that such an appellation may have been bestowed on such a tree, as intimating a natural and appropriate cure for such infirmities as resulted in mistakes about property, to which we may suppose Abraham-men and their associates were only too subject. The figure may be thought similar to that highly metaphorical expression conveyed by the passage:“Ye shall have a hempen caudle, then.”[101]As to “Abraham-men,” a rope may, in fact, have been thought, in extreme cases, a “balmfor hurt minds.”
A SHAKESPEARIAN EXCURSUS.
Merc.—“Young Abraham Cupid, he that shot so trim.”—Romeo and Juliet, act ii. sc. I.[83]
Certainly, this very singular prefix to the ordinary appellation of the god of love suggests difficulties of interpretation not easy of solution. It would appear to be one of those cant phrases familiar enough, we may presume, at a certain period, for, if not readily to be understood, the poet was unlikely to make use of it in such a connection. But the reason for its application has passed out of mind, and all the commentators have been at a loss to discover its meaning. Mr. Singer, editor of a well-known edition of the poet’s plays, disposes of the embarrassment in a manner equally summary and, as it seems to us, unsatisfactory. Accepting the suggestion of Mr. Upton, another commentator, that the word “Abraham” should be “Adam,” these critics agree in conferring upon Cupid a prænomen which it is clear neither Shakespeare nor his early editors affixed to the name by which he is usually known. It is equally certain that no other writer has ever employed the term “Adam” in such a way. In this state of the case, we seem still left to seek the meaning of the word “Abraham,” as thus used. In order to exhibit the whole merits of the question, let us subjoin the note of Mr. Singer in reference to it, and also that of Mr. Richard Grant White, editor of an American editionof Shakespeare. Mr. Singer remarks:
“All the old copies readAbrahamCupid. The alteration was proposed by Mr. Upton. It evidently alludes to the famous archer, Adam Bell. So in Decker’sSatiromastix: ‘He shoots his bolt but seldom, but, when Adam lets go, he hits.’ ‘He shoots at thee, too, Adam Bell; and his arrows stick here.’ The ballad alluded to is ‘King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid,’ or, as it is called in some copies, ‘The Song of a Beggar and a King.’ It may be seen in the first volume of Percy’sReliques of Ancient Poetry. The following stanza Shakespeare had particularly in view:
‘Theblindedboy, thatshoots so trim,From heaven down did hie;
He drew a dart, and shot at him,In place where he did lie.’”
—Singer’s Note.
Now, though it cannot be doubted that Shakespeare had in mindthe blinded boy that shoots so trim, as set forth in the ballad referred to, nor that the expression “shot so trim” grew out of it, yet this fact is far from affording good reason for the belief that he had also Adam Bell in view, or that he had any thought of conferring the Christian name of that noted outlaw upon Cupid himself. The presumption would be that howevertrima bowman that “belted forestere” may have been, yet the skill of Cupid in this respect is too preeminent and well allowed, to admit of any compliment or illustration derived from the name of the very best merely human archer who ever drew cloth-yard shaft to ear. Mr. Singer appears to us, therefore, to have been misled by a merely superficial analogy into too great confidence in an improvident suggestion, when he ventured to substitute a conjectural emendation of the text for a reading which was uniform in “all the old copies.”
The note of Mr. White is as follows:
“Upton gave us theAdamwhich takes the place of ‘Abraham’ in all the current editions, except Mr. Knight’s. But, as Mr. Dyce says, there is not the slightest authority for the change. The last-named gentleman conjectures that ‘Abraham’ in this line is a corruption ofAuburn; as it is unquestionably in the following passages which he quotes:
‘Where is the oldest sonne of Pryam,That Abraham coloured Troian? Dead.’
—Soliman and Perseda, 1599, sig. H, 3.
‘A goodlie, long, thicke Abram colored beard.’
—Middleton’s Blurt,Master-Constable, 1602, sig. D.
And inCoriolanus, act ii. sc. iii.
‘Not that our heads are some browns, some blacke, some Abram,’
as we read in the first three folios.
“The suggestion is more than plausible; and we at least owe to Mr. Dyce the efficient protection which it must give to the original text. Cupid is always represented by the old painters as auburn-haired.”[84]
But Mr. White, it will be observed, begs the question as to the passages quoted from other authors. These passages simply prove that “Abraham coloured” and “Abram colored,” as applied to the hair and the beard, were common enough expressions at and before the time of Shakespeare. Besides, only conceive whether it would be characteristic of Shakespeare to write so tamely as “Young auburn Cupid”!
In fact, the term in question must have had a pertinent, significant, and peculiar meaning, well understood by his contemporaries.
Mr. Knight conceives the termAbrahamto be thus appropriated from the vagrants and beggars called “Abraham-men,” who were too often cheats;[85]and it is to be feared thathe thus means us to imply the propriety of the appellation in this instance, upon the ungallant hypothesis that Cupid is himself the prince and chief exemplar of deceivers in general. But this specific characteristic we have always understood to belong to Mercury. For however, popularly, Cupid is estimated as a gay deceiver, Mercury was held by the Greeks the god of fraud and falsehood. The sailors have a phrase of “shamming Abraham” when one of the crew shirks his duty on pretence of sickness or for any other pretended excuse. No one seems to have thought of the possible origin of this proverbial expression, as used in reference to the beggars from whose habits it is evidently derived. It has occurred to us that, since Abraham was the father of the faithful, that is, the person most eminent for faith, his name may have been thus taken up, in a manner savoring more of wit than of reverence, in relation to persons disposed to live rather byfaiththan byworks—in fact, who showed the amplitude of their trust in whatever might turn up, oftentimes in a somewhat questionable shape, by doing no work at all. This would manifestly be a sort ofshamming Abraham.
But however this may be, since all the old copies readAbrahamCupid, and since the alteration of the text commended by Mr. Singer and others cannot be justified upon any grounds which they offer, or in any other mode, we must find some means of explaining the phrase as it stands, or remain in the dark as to its true interpretation. Certainly the matter is not at all cleared up by unauthorized substitution. Against Mr. Knight’s theory, on the other hand, militates the plain fact that, in every example cited, unless the one in controversy be taken as an exception, the word stands for a certaincolor, and not as qualifying any moral characteristic, or implying any personal defect. There is a difficulty, besides, in theauburnhypothesis which it must be admitted is hard to get over. Supposing the word had been found written as it is, nowhere but in these two passages of Shakespeare, it might, perhaps, so pass muster. He might not very unnaturally be thought to have put such a corrupt form of the wordauburnpurposely into the mouth of the worthy citizen inCoriolanus; and the termauburn, in such a connection, but misprinted in the course of time, might possibly be considered not absolutely inconsistent with the character of Mercutio and the strain of his speech. But when we find the same word used by two other writers contemporary with Shakespeare, both of whom would be likely to know the correct form and so to write it, if “Abraham” or “Abram” were merely a corrupt form of it, and especially as in one of the examples it occurs in a serious passage of a tragedy—it seems much more probable that the term “Abraham” itself, as so applied, had its own distinct and well-understood meaning, so familiar as to excite, at that period, no necessarily ludicrous association. And that this termAbrahamwas a cant phrase which had come into common use is actually implied by the correspondent expression in the preceding line of this very speech of Mercutio:
“Speak to my gossip, Venus, one fair word,Onenicknamefor her purblind son and heir;YoungAbrahamCupid, he that shot so trim.”
Now, it is obvious thatauburn, as being a common adjective, could constitute no nickname; whereas Abraham, as a noun proper, and at the same time signifying a certain color, serves that purpose completely, as, for example,Cicero, orNasica.
We must own that a passage in Bishop Hall’sSatiresat first a little puzzled us, viz.:
“A lustie courtier whose curled headWithabronlocks was fairly furnished.”[86]
But upon reflection it will be found that, althoughabron, at first sight, looks much more like auburn than does eitherAbrahamorAbram, and it might appear, therefore, to be, in fact, a less corrupt form of that word than either of the other terms, yet, on the other hand,abronis itself both in form and sound much nearerAbramthan it is toauburn, and may, therefore, be only a misspelt variation of the first rather than of the second expression.
In this philological dilemma, we believe we are able to throw a gleam of light on the obscurity; and, though the explanation is derived from a source apparently remote, there is, nevertheless, good ground for thinking it may prove satisfactory. We happen to have in our possession a copy of the quarto edition of the Latin Dictionary published at Cambridge, England, in 1693, which is the foundation of those dictionaries of the Latin language in common use which have succeeded it. The wordvitexis thus translated in it: “A kind of withy or willow, commonly called agnus castus, in English, park-leaves,Abraham’s balm, chaste orhemptree.”
Now, it is no less certain than melancholy to reflect upon that our respected ancestry, like their descendants, were compelled to supply the loss of hair by some adventitious covering, and that their periwigs were sometimes perhaps commonly manufactured out of either the coarser or the finer filament of flax or hemp, since those made of hair were very costly. We are confident we have read of a splendid and no doubt full-bottomed article of the latter material costing as much as fifty guineas, a couple of centuries ago.[87]We speak of flax and hemp indiscriminately, however botanically different, as those predecessors of ours were in the habit of doing, and as being, in fact, used for similar purposes,e.g., “Except the flax or hemp plant, and a few other plants, there is very little herbage of any sort.”[88]
To the coarser filament of both, after the article is heckled, is still, we believe, applied the name oftow. In either case, the substance, when thus subjected to the nicer process of manufacture, presents that well-known whitish brown color so often and so enthusiastically celebrated by the elder English poets in the aspect of “flaxen locks.” We do not know, and, after considerable research, have been unable to ascertain with accuracy, what was the peculiar relation of the “hemp-tree” to those other vegetable productions; but infer from the name that there was a certain resemblance in the fibre of the one to the others, and that probably to some extent it was formerly used for similar purposes. At any rate, it is only with the name and the associations it calls up that we have particularly to do. If the hemp-tree, otherwise called “Abraham’s balm,” furnished when manufactured an article similar in color to that of the other vegetable productions referred to, a sufficient foundation is laid for this inquiry.
Bosworth’sDictionary of the Anglo-Saxon Languageaffords a striking illustration of the general subject.He says that “flax signified, in earlier times, alsohairand all kinds of hairy thread. In Austria, the flax is called haar, hair. The Danish hör signifies the same.” He adds: “The Old English flix-down, soft hair, is another instance that flax in earlier ages was used to designate hair.”
Of the metaphorical use of the word the poets are full of pregnant examples, for instance:
“Her flaxen haire, insnaring all beholders,She next permits to wave about her shoulders.”[89]
“All flaxen was his poll.”[90]
“Adown the shoulders of the heavenly fairIn easy ringlets flowed her flaxen hair;And with a golden comb, in matchless grace,She taught each lock its most becoming place.”[91]
If to these examples we add the following passage, we shall perceive that the hue in question enjoyed a special distinction and favor:
“The four colors signify the four virtues; theflaxey, having a whiteness, appertains to temperance, because it makescandidam et mundam animam.”[92]
And as this is a hue which frequently distinguishes the heads of youngsters, a large proportion of whom, at an early period of life, we know aswhite-headedurchins, and in England as well as in the United States even astow-heads, we are very strongly inclined to believe the color and the term “Abraham” or “Abram” to be thus derived from association, and to be so applied to the boy Cupid; the wordAbraham, in this connection, having come to express, to a certain extent, thetow, or the color of the tow, ofhemp, or flax, or equally of the finer part which remains after the tow is combed out. So that, in all probability, the cant term “Abraham,” as thus applied in Shakespeare’s day, meant precisely the same asflaxen, with, perhaps, a slightly humorous allusion. And in this view of the case, we must put in acaveatto the allegation of Mr. White, that, if “Cupid is always represented by the old painters as auburn-haired,” then they have so depictured him without sufficient authority; indeed, in contradiction of the best authorities; for the classical evidence on this point will show his hair to be described as of that color which is usually known by the style of “flaxen”; since auburn is really a dun color, or “reddish brown,” whereas Cupid’s hair was flaxen, or, as we now say, blonde. For instance:
“The god of love was usually represented as a plump-cheeked boy, rosy and naked, withlighthair floating on his shoulders.”[93]
“Eros is usually represented as a roguish boy, plump-cheeked and naked, withlighthair floating on his shoulders.”[94]
We cannot but think, therefore, that this manifest distinction of hue effectually disposes of the theory that “abron” stands for any misspelling ofauburn, as suggested by Mr. Dyce, and adopted by Mr. White.
It appears, by the bye, that this sameagnus castus, or hemp-tree, which has given occasion for these remarks, was supposed from an early period to possess some peculiar virtues, which prompted its other appellation of “The Chaste Tree”; and to this circumstance was owing, doubtless, its introduction by the poets in their descriptions of various ceremonials. Thus, Chaucer has three several references to it in his “Floure andLeafe,” and very noticeably, as follows:
“Some of laurer, and some full pleasantlyHad chaplets of woodbind; and, sadly,Some ofagnus castusweren alsoChaplets fresh.”
So Dryden, also, modernizing this very passage of the older poet:
“Of laurel some, of woodbine many more,And wreaths ofagnus castusmany bore.”
It ought to be suggested that the statement herein made as to the earlier practice of wearing wigs of flax and tow, in addition to some direct evidence to the point, is partly a matter of inference, and partly due to rather vague recollections of youthful studies (to which we have not thought it worth while to recur) among the romance writers of the last century. Their famous heroes undoubtedly were more or less familiar with “Abraham-men” and personages of that description; and it must be confessed that the impression of the “tow-wigs” worn, for purposes of disguise or with whatever object, by the highwaymen, sturdy beggars, and other worthies introduced into their novels, is amongst the strongest left on our mind by those lucubrations of their genius.
The inference which we have ventured upon is that, since wigs were articles of supposed necessity, and certainly have been used from early times; and since those manufactured of hair must have been much more costly in former days than at present, the probabilities are very strong that this important description of head-gear was made, more or less commonly, out of that material which still, we believe, affords the foundation of those ingenious works of art, the color and beauty of which furnished the poets with an ordinary and apt illustration of bright and flowing locks.
We are not without testimony on this point, however, and that, too, of no less authority than Walter Scott, which is literally to the point:
“The identical Peter wears a huge great-coat, threadbare and patched. His hair, half gray half black, escaped in elf-locks around a huge wigmade of tow, as it seemed to me.”[95]
Addison also tells us, in a paper of theSpectator, as quoted by Johnson:
“I bought a fine flaxen long wig.”
It is true, Dr. Johnson cites this example in hisDictionaryas only meaning something “fair, long, and flowing, as if made of flax”; but we are far from thinking the qualification of his definition inevitably correct, any more than in some other well-known instances. The great lexicographer imagines a wig of hair as presenting the appearance of one made of flax; but we see no reason why the excellentSpectatorshould not be taken literally according to his expression; nor why he may not have appeared upon the occasion to which he refers in a veritable wig of flax, especially since such an object of manufacture was common, could be made to bear so close a resemblance to hair, probably looked better, and was of much less cost. We find a still more decisive example in theSpectator, which scarcely admits of any other than the most literal interpretation:
“The greatest beau at our next county sessions was dressed in a most monstrous flaxen periwig that was made in King William’s reign.”[96]
The following example is equally pertinent:
“A fair, flaxen, full-bottomed periwig.”[97]
In this instance, the word “fair” would seem clearly to apply to the color, and “flaxen” to the material, for otherwise the use of both expressions would be tautological.
Indeed, we have not left this matter to conjecture and inference merely; for we took occasion to inquire upon this topic, several years ago, of a late celebrated hair-dresser; and, in fact, these notes have been kept on hand for a period considerably longer than the nine years prescribed by Horace for the due refinement and perfection of immortal verse. Our excellent friend, M. Charrier, of Boston, informed us that he had been called upon to manufacture actual wigs of the filament of flax; and he remembered one particular occasion, when an article of special beauty was required for the use of a popular actress, who was to perform in a play which he thought was called “The fair maid with the golden locks.”[98]Thus we trace the article to the stage itself, and there, in all probability, its construction of the material in question is traditional, and is much more likely to have originated at a period earlier than the time of Shakespeare than at a later date. Of course, if M. Charrier had lived to our day, he would have found plenty of business in constructing those mountainous piles of various vegetable material with which ladies now see fit to load their heads—“some browne, some blacke, some Abram.”[99]
In corroboration of these views, explanatory, we hope, of the strange expression, Abraham Cupid, to modern eyes and ears, we have just met with a singularly apt illustration. A very young lady of our family received last Christmas, as a present, a doll with a remarkable head of hair. It was long, fine, profuse, admirably curled, and exactly of that brilliantly fair color, the lightest possible shade of brown, sometimes but rarely seen in its perfection on the heads of young persons, and of the hue which might well be imagined as a peculiar and suitable attribute of the god of love. An examination of this attractive ornament to the seat of whatever intellect a doll might be supposed to possess showed at once, that it was skilfully manufactured, doubtless by accomplished French artisans, of the filament of flax.[100]
From these premises the following propositions seem to be fairly deducible:
1. That, in the time of Shakespeare, the wordAbrahamwas sometimes employed as a cant term expressive of a certain color.
2. That, since the name “Abraham’s balm” was used for a certain shrub or bush, otherwise called the hemp-tree, the color in question was probably that of dressed hemp or flax, which nearly resembled each other in hue; the word tow being still applied to the coarse filament of both.
3. That the color attributed to “flaxen locks,” so celebrated through the whole range of English poetry, is, in fact, that light and fair, that is, blonde, color of the hair assigned to Cupid.
4. That “Young Abraham Cupid,” therefore, means nothing else thanflaxen-hairedorfair-hairedCupid.
In regard to the term “Abraham’s balm,” as applied to the hemp-tree, we beg leave to suggest that such an appellation may have been bestowed on such a tree, as intimating a natural and appropriate cure for such infirmities as resulted in mistakes about property, to which we may suppose Abraham-men and their associates were only too subject. The figure may be thought similar to that highly metaphorical expression conveyed by the passage:
“Ye shall have a hempen caudle, then.”[101]
As to “Abraham-men,” a rope may, in fact, have been thought, in extreme cases, a “balmfor hurt minds.”