August 4.

[286]General Biography, vol. i. 17.[287]Dr. Aikin’s Athenæum.

[286]General Biography, vol. i. 17.

[287]Dr. Aikin’s Athenæum.

On the fourth of August, 1739, a farmer of Croydon undertook for a considerable wager, to bowl a skittle-bowl from that town to London-bridge, about eleven miles, in 500 times, and performed it in445.[288]

Mean Temperature 63·72.

[288]Gentleman’s Magazine.

It is on this day, and not on St. James’s day new style, as mistakingly represented in vol. i. col. 978, that oysters come in.

Oyster Day.For the Every-Day Book.Greengrocers rise at dawn of sun—August the fifth—come haste away!To Billingsgate the thousands run,—’Tis Oyster Day!—’tis Oyster Day!Now at the corner of the streetWith oysters fine the tub is filled;The cockney stops to have a treatPrepared by one in opening skilled.The pepper-box, the cruet,—waitTo give a relish to the taste;The mouth is watering for the baitWithin the pearly cloisters chased.Take off the beard—as quick as thoughtThe pointed knife divides the flesh;—What plates are laden—loads are boughtAnd eaten raw, and cold, and fresh!Some take them with their steak for sauce,Some stew, and fry, and scollop well;While, Leperello-like, some toss;And some in gutting themexcel.[289]Poor creatures of the ocean’s wave!Born, fed, and fatted for our prey;—E’en boys, your shells when parted, crave,Perspective for the “Grotto day.”With watchful eye in many a bandThe urchin wights at eve appear;They raise their “lights” with voice and hand—“A grotto comes but once a year!”Then, in some rustic gardener’s bedThe shells are fixed for borders neat;Or, crushed within a dustman’s shed,Like deadmen’s bones ’neath living feet.*, *, P.

Oyster Day.

For the Every-Day Book.

Greengrocers rise at dawn of sun—August the fifth—come haste away!To Billingsgate the thousands run,—’Tis Oyster Day!—’tis Oyster Day!Now at the corner of the streetWith oysters fine the tub is filled;The cockney stops to have a treatPrepared by one in opening skilled.The pepper-box, the cruet,—waitTo give a relish to the taste;The mouth is watering for the baitWithin the pearly cloisters chased.Take off the beard—as quick as thoughtThe pointed knife divides the flesh;—What plates are laden—loads are boughtAnd eaten raw, and cold, and fresh!Some take them with their steak for sauce,Some stew, and fry, and scollop well;While, Leperello-like, some toss;And some in gutting themexcel.[289]Poor creatures of the ocean’s wave!Born, fed, and fatted for our prey;—E’en boys, your shells when parted, crave,Perspective for the “Grotto day.”With watchful eye in many a bandThe urchin wights at eve appear;They raise their “lights” with voice and hand—“A grotto comes but once a year!”Then, in some rustic gardener’s bedThe shells are fixed for borders neat;Or, crushed within a dustman’s shed,Like deadmen’s bones ’neath living feet.

Greengrocers rise at dawn of sun—August the fifth—come haste away!To Billingsgate the thousands run,—’Tis Oyster Day!—’tis Oyster Day!

Now at the corner of the streetWith oysters fine the tub is filled;The cockney stops to have a treatPrepared by one in opening skilled.

The pepper-box, the cruet,—waitTo give a relish to the taste;The mouth is watering for the baitWithin the pearly cloisters chased.

Take off the beard—as quick as thoughtThe pointed knife divides the flesh;—What plates are laden—loads are boughtAnd eaten raw, and cold, and fresh!

Some take them with their steak for sauce,Some stew, and fry, and scollop well;While, Leperello-like, some toss;And some in gutting themexcel.[289]

Poor creatures of the ocean’s wave!Born, fed, and fatted for our prey;—E’en boys, your shells when parted, crave,Perspective for the “Grotto day.”

With watchful eye in many a bandThe urchin wights at eve appear;They raise their “lights” with voice and hand—“A grotto comes but once a year!”

Then, in some rustic gardener’s bedThe shells are fixed for borders neat;Or, crushed within a dustman’s shed,Like deadmen’s bones ’neath living feet.

*, *, P.

Sir Reginald Bray, the architect of king Henry the seventh’s chapel, died August 5, 1503. His family came into England with the Conqueror, and flourished in Northampton and Warwickshire. He was second son to sir Richard Bray, a privy counsellor to king Henry VI. In the first year of Richard III. Reginald had a general pardon, for having adhered, it is presumed, to Henry VI. He favoured the advancement of the earl of Richmond to the throne as Henry VII., who made him a knight banneret, probably on Bosworth field. At this king’s coronation he was created a knight of the bath, and afterwards a knight of the garter.

Sir Reginald Bray was a distinguished statesman and warrior. He served at the battle of Blackheath in 1497, on the Cornish insurrection under lord Audley, part of whose estates he acquired by grant. He was constable of Oakham castle in Rutlandshire, joint chief justice of the forests south of Trent, high steward of the university of Oxford, chancellor of the duchy of Lancaster, and high treasurer. Distinguished by the royal favour, he held the Isle of Wight for his life at an annual rent of three hundred marks, and died possessed of large estates, under a suspicious sovereign who extorted large sums from his subjects when there was very little law to control the royal will. His administration was so just as to procure him the title of “the father of his country.” To his skill in architecture we are indebted for the most eminent ecclesiastical ornament of the metropolis—the splendid chapel founded by Henry in his lifetime at Westminster; and he conducted the chapel of St. George, at Windsor palace, to its completion.

Mean Temperature 63·47.

[289]See the supper scene in “Don Giovanni,”—also the Irishman’s joke of eating the oysters and taking his master the shells. Speaking of “Oysters”—the song sung by Grimaldi senior,—“An oyster crossed in love,”—has been very popular.

For this denomination of the day see vol. i. col. 1071.

It is alleged that this festival was observed at Rome in the fifth century, though not universally solemnized until in 1457 pope Calixtus III. ordained its celebration to commemorate the raising of the siege of Belgrade by MahometII.[290]

Mean Temperature 63·37.

[290]Butler. Brady.

A festival in honour of thenameof Jesus appears was anciently held on the second Sunday in Epiphany, from whence it was removed at the reformation to this day, and the name of St. Donatus expunged by the English reformers to make room for it. That saint’s name had previously been substituted for that of St. Afra, to whom the day had first been dedicated in honour of her martyrdom.

Caput Sancti Adalberonis.

Augsburg cathedral was rebuilt by St. Ulric to whom and St. Afra jointly it was dedicated: a Latin folio with engravings by Kilian describes itsmagnificence.[291]In the church were preserved the sculls of several saints, blazing with jewellery, mitred or crowned, reposing on embroidered cushions, and elevated on altars or reliquaries. One of these is selected as a specimen of the sumptuous adornment of deceased mortality in Roman catholic churches.

This saint is alleged to have suffered martyrdom under Dioclesian. She had led an abandoned life at Augsburg, but being required to sacrifice to the heathen deities she refused; wherefore, with certain of her female companions, she was bound to a stake in an island on the river Lech, and suffocated by smoke from vine branches. She is honoured as chief patroness of Augsburg.

This saint was bishop of Augsburg, which city he defended against the barbarians by raising walls and erecting fortresses around it, and died in 973, surrounded by his clergy, while lying on ashes strewed on the floor in the form of a cross.

Mean Temperature 63·20.

[291]Basilica S. S. Udalrici et Afræ, Imperialis Monasterii ord. S. Benedicti Augustæ Vindel. Historice descripta; edit. secunda. August. Vindel. 1653.

This time of the year is usually remarkably fine. The rich glow of summer is seldom in perfection till August. We now enjoy settled hot weather, a glowing sky, with varied and beautiful, but not many clouds, and delightfully fragrant and cool evenings. The golden yellow of the ripe corn, the idea of plenty inspired by the commencing harvest of wheat, the full and mature appearance of the foliage, in short thetout ensembleof nature at this time is more pleasing than perhaps that of any of the other summer months.

One of the editors of the “Perennial Calendar,” inserts some verses which he found about this time among his papers; he says they are “evidently some parody,” and certainly they are very agreeable.

Infantine RecollectionsIn Fancy how dear are the scenes of my childhoodWhich old recollections recal to my view!My own little garden, its plants, and the wild wood,The old paper Kite that my Infancy flew.The cool shady Elm Grove, the Pond that was by it,My small plaything Mill where the rain torrent fell;My Father’s Pot Garden, the Drying Ground nigh it,The old wooden Pump by the Melon ground well.That Portugal Laurel I hail as a treasure,For often in Summer when tired of play,I found its thick shade a most exquisite pleasure,And sat in its boughs my long lessons to say.There I first thought my scholarship somewhat advancing,And turning my Lilly right down on its back,While my thirst for some drink the Sun’s beams were enhancingI shouted out learnedly—Da mihi lac.No image more dear than the thoughts of these baubles,Ghigs, Peg Tops, and Whip Tops, and infantine gamesThe Grassplot for Ball, and the Yewwalk for Marbles,And the arbours for whoop, and the vine trellis frames.Those three renowned Poplars, by Summer winds wavedBy Tom, Ben, and Ned, that were planted of yore,’Twixt the times when these Wights were first breeched and first shavedMay now be hewn down, and may waver no more!How well I remember, when Spring flowers were blowing,With rapture I cropt the first Crocuses there!Life seemed like a Lamp in eternity glowing,Nor dreamt I that all the green boughs would be sear.In Summer, while feasting on Currants and Cherries,And roving through Strawberry Beds with delight,I thought not of Autumn’s Grapes, Nuts, and Blackberries,Nor of Ivy decked Winter cold shivering in white.E’en in that frosty season, my Grandfather’s Hall in,I used to sit turning the Electric Machine,And taking from Shockbottles shocks much less galling,If sharper than those of my manhood I ween.The Chesnuts I picked up and flung in the fires,The Evergreens gathered the hot coals to choke;Made reports that were emblems of blown up desires,And warm glowing hopes that have ended in smoke.How oft have I sat on the green bench astonishedTo gaze at Orion and Night’s shady car,By the starspangled Sky’s Magic Lantern admonishedOf time and of space that were distant afar!But now when embarked on Life’s rough troubled ocean,While Hope with her anchor stands up on the bow,May Fortune take care of my skiff put in motion,Nor sink me when coyly she steps on the prow.

Infantine Recollections

In Fancy how dear are the scenes of my childhoodWhich old recollections recal to my view!My own little garden, its plants, and the wild wood,The old paper Kite that my Infancy flew.The cool shady Elm Grove, the Pond that was by it,My small plaything Mill where the rain torrent fell;My Father’s Pot Garden, the Drying Ground nigh it,The old wooden Pump by the Melon ground well.That Portugal Laurel I hail as a treasure,For often in Summer when tired of play,I found its thick shade a most exquisite pleasure,And sat in its boughs my long lessons to say.There I first thought my scholarship somewhat advancing,And turning my Lilly right down on its back,While my thirst for some drink the Sun’s beams were enhancingI shouted out learnedly—Da mihi lac.No image more dear than the thoughts of these baubles,Ghigs, Peg Tops, and Whip Tops, and infantine gamesThe Grassplot for Ball, and the Yewwalk for Marbles,And the arbours for whoop, and the vine trellis frames.Those three renowned Poplars, by Summer winds wavedBy Tom, Ben, and Ned, that were planted of yore,’Twixt the times when these Wights were first breeched and first shavedMay now be hewn down, and may waver no more!How well I remember, when Spring flowers were blowing,With rapture I cropt the first Crocuses there!Life seemed like a Lamp in eternity glowing,Nor dreamt I that all the green boughs would be sear.In Summer, while feasting on Currants and Cherries,And roving through Strawberry Beds with delight,I thought not of Autumn’s Grapes, Nuts, and Blackberries,Nor of Ivy decked Winter cold shivering in white.E’en in that frosty season, my Grandfather’s Hall in,I used to sit turning the Electric Machine,And taking from Shockbottles shocks much less galling,If sharper than those of my manhood I ween.The Chesnuts I picked up and flung in the fires,The Evergreens gathered the hot coals to choke;Made reports that were emblems of blown up desires,And warm glowing hopes that have ended in smoke.How oft have I sat on the green bench astonishedTo gaze at Orion and Night’s shady car,By the starspangled Sky’s Magic Lantern admonishedOf time and of space that were distant afar!But now when embarked on Life’s rough troubled ocean,While Hope with her anchor stands up on the bow,May Fortune take care of my skiff put in motion,Nor sink me when coyly she steps on the prow.

In Fancy how dear are the scenes of my childhoodWhich old recollections recal to my view!My own little garden, its plants, and the wild wood,The old paper Kite that my Infancy flew.

The cool shady Elm Grove, the Pond that was by it,My small plaything Mill where the rain torrent fell;My Father’s Pot Garden, the Drying Ground nigh it,The old wooden Pump by the Melon ground well.

That Portugal Laurel I hail as a treasure,For often in Summer when tired of play,I found its thick shade a most exquisite pleasure,And sat in its boughs my long lessons to say.

There I first thought my scholarship somewhat advancing,And turning my Lilly right down on its back,While my thirst for some drink the Sun’s beams were enhancingI shouted out learnedly—Da mihi lac.

No image more dear than the thoughts of these baubles,Ghigs, Peg Tops, and Whip Tops, and infantine gamesThe Grassplot for Ball, and the Yewwalk for Marbles,And the arbours for whoop, and the vine trellis frames.

Those three renowned Poplars, by Summer winds wavedBy Tom, Ben, and Ned, that were planted of yore,’Twixt the times when these Wights were first breeched and first shavedMay now be hewn down, and may waver no more!

How well I remember, when Spring flowers were blowing,With rapture I cropt the first Crocuses there!Life seemed like a Lamp in eternity glowing,Nor dreamt I that all the green boughs would be sear.

In Summer, while feasting on Currants and Cherries,And roving through Strawberry Beds with delight,I thought not of Autumn’s Grapes, Nuts, and Blackberries,Nor of Ivy decked Winter cold shivering in white.

E’en in that frosty season, my Grandfather’s Hall in,I used to sit turning the Electric Machine,And taking from Shockbottles shocks much less galling,If sharper than those of my manhood I ween.

The Chesnuts I picked up and flung in the fires,The Evergreens gathered the hot coals to choke;Made reports that were emblems of blown up desires,And warm glowing hopes that have ended in smoke.

How oft have I sat on the green bench astonishedTo gaze at Orion and Night’s shady car,By the starspangled Sky’s Magic Lantern admonishedOf time and of space that were distant afar!

But now when embarked on Life’s rough troubled ocean,While Hope with her anchor stands up on the bow,May Fortune take care of my skiff put in motion,Nor sink me when coyly she steps on the prow.

Mean Temperature 62·97.

The “Gentleman’s Magazine” records that, on August the ninth, 1734 a large eagle was taken near Carlton, in Kent, by a taylor: its wings when expanded were three yards eight inches long. It was claimed by the lord of the manor, but afterwards demanded by the king’s falconer as a royal bird and carried to court.

It was formerly a custom with itinerant showmen, who had tolerably sized eagles among their “wonders of nature,” to call them “Eagles of the Sun.”

To the Sun.Most glorious orb! that wert a worship, ereThe mystery of thy making was reveal’d!Thou earliest minister of the Almighty,Which gladden’d, on their mountain tops, the heartsOf the Chaldean shepherds, till they pour’dThemselves in orisons! Thou material God!And representative of the Unknown—Who chose thee for His shadow! Thou chief star!Centre of many stars! which mak’st our earthEndurable, and temperest the huesAnd hearts of all who walk within thy rays;Sire of the seasons! Monarch of the climes,And those who dwell in them! for near or far,Our inborn spirits have a tint of thee,Even as our outward aspects;—thou dost rise,And shine, and set in glory. Fare thee well!Byron.

To the Sun.

Most glorious orb! that wert a worship, ereThe mystery of thy making was reveal’d!Thou earliest minister of the Almighty,Which gladden’d, on their mountain tops, the heartsOf the Chaldean shepherds, till they pour’dThemselves in orisons! Thou material God!And representative of the Unknown—Who chose thee for His shadow! Thou chief star!Centre of many stars! which mak’st our earthEndurable, and temperest the huesAnd hearts of all who walk within thy rays;Sire of the seasons! Monarch of the climes,And those who dwell in them! for near or far,Our inborn spirits have a tint of thee,Even as our outward aspects;—thou dost rise,And shine, and set in glory. Fare thee well!

Byron.

Sunset.We walked along the pathway of a field,Which to the east a hoar wood shadowed o’er,But to the west was open to the sky:There now the sun had sunk; but lines of goldHung on the ashen clouds, and on the pointsOf the far level grass and nodding flowers,And the old dandelion’s hoary beard,And, mingled with the shades of twilight layOn the brown massy woods: and in the eastThe broad and burning moon lingeringly roseBetween the black trunks of the crowded trees,While the faint stars were gathering overhead.

Sunset.

We walked along the pathway of a field,Which to the east a hoar wood shadowed o’er,But to the west was open to the sky:There now the sun had sunk; but lines of goldHung on the ashen clouds, and on the pointsOf the far level grass and nodding flowers,And the old dandelion’s hoary beard,And, mingled with the shades of twilight layOn the brown massy woods: and in the eastThe broad and burning moon lingeringly roseBetween the black trunks of the crowded trees,While the faint stars were gathering overhead.

Mean Temperature 62·45.

This is the festival day of St. Lawrence.

Old Anthony Munday, the pleasant continuator of Stow’s “Survey,” renders this day remarkable by a curious notice.

Coya Shawsware’s Tomb.

This is an exactly reduced fac-simile representation of the wood-cut in Stow, and the following is Anthony Munday’sstory:—

“This monument, or that of which this is a shadow, with their characters engraven about it, stands in Petty France, at the west end of the lower churchyard of St. Botolphes, Bishopsgate, (not within, but without the walls, the bounds of our consecrated ground,) and was erected to the memory of oneCoya Shawsware, a Persian merchant, and a principal servant and secretary to the Persian ambassadour, with whom he and his sonne came over. He was aged forty-four, and buried the tenth of August, 1626: the ambassadour himselfe, young Shawsware his sonne, and many other Persians (with many expressions of their infinite love and sorrow) following him to the ground betweene eight and nine of the clocke in the morning. The rites and ceremonies that (with them) are done to the dead, were chiefly performed by his sonne, who, sitting crosse-legged at the north end of thegrave, (for his tombe stands north and south,) did one while reade, another while sing; his reading and singing intermixt sighing and weeping: and this, with other things that were done in the grave in private (to prevent with the sight the relation) continued about halfe an houre.

“But this was but this dayes businesse: for, as this had not beene enough to performe to their friend departed, to this place and to this end (that is, prayer, and other funerall devotions) some of them came every morning and evening at sixe and sixe, for the space of a moneth together; and had come (as it was then imagined) the whole time of their abode here in England, had not the rudenesse of our people disturbed and prevented their purpose.”

Mean Temperature 63·69.

Dog Days end.

Clouds are defined to be a collection of vapours suspended in the atmosphere, and rendered visible.

Although it be generally allowed that clouds are formed from the aqueous vapours, which before were so closely united with the atmosphere as to be invisible, it is not easy to account for the long continuance of some very opaque clouds without dissolving; or to assign the reason why the vapours, when they have once begun to condense, do not continue to do so till they at last fall to the ground in the form of rain or snow, &c. It is now known that a separation of the latent heat from the water, of which vapour is composed, is attended with a condensation of that vapour in some degree; in such case it will first appear as a smoke, mist, or fog; which, if interposed between the sun and earth, will form a cloud; and the same causes continuing to operate, the cloud will produce rain or snow. It is however abundantly evident that some other cause beside mere heat or cold is concerned in the formation of clouds, and the condensation of atmospherical vapours. This cause is esteemed in a great measure the electrical fluid; indeed electricity is now so generally admitted as an agent in all the great operations of nature, that it is no wonder to find the formation of clouds attributed to it; and this has accordingly been given by Beccaria as the cause of the formation of all clouds whatsoever, whether of thunder, rain, hail, or snow.

But whether the clouds are produced, that is, the atmospheric vapours rendered visible, by means of electricity or not, it is certain that they do often contain the electric fluid in prodigious quantities, and many terrible and destructive accidents have been occasioned by clouds very highly electrified. The most extraordinary instance of this kind perhaps on record, happened in the island of Java, in the East Indies, in August, 1772. On the eleventh of that month, at midnight, a bright cloud was observed covering a mountain in the district called Cheribon, and several reports like those of a gun were heard at the same time. The people who dwelt upon the upper parts of the mountain not being able to fly fast enough, a great part of the cloud, eight or nine miles in circumference, detached itself under them, and was seen at a distance, rising and falling like the waves of the sea, and emitting globes of fire so luminous, that the night became as clear as day. The effects of it were astonishing; every thing was destroyed for twenty miles round; the houses were demolished; plantations were buried in the earth; and two thousand one hundred and forty people lost their lives, besides one thousand five hundred head of cattle, and a vast number of horses, goats, &c.

Theheightof the clouds is not usually great: the summits of high mountains being commonly quite free from them, as many travellers have experienced in passing these mountains. It is found that the most highly electrified clouds descend lowest, their height being often not more than seven or eight hundred yards above the ground; and sometimes thunderclouds appear actually to touch the ground with one of their edges; but the generality of clouds are suspended at the height of a mile, or little more, above the earth.

Themotionsof the clouds, though oftendirected by the wind, are not always so, especially when thunder is about to ensue. In this case they are seen to move very slowly, or even to appear quite stationary for some time. The reason of this probably is, that they are impelled by two opposite streams of air nearly of equal strength; and in such cases it seems that both the aërial currents ascend to a considerable height; for Messrs. Charles and Robert, when endeavouring to avoid a thunder cloud, in one of their aërial voyages with a balloon, could find no alteration in the course of the current, though they ascended to the height of four thousand feet above the earth. In some cases the motions of the clouds evidently depend on their electricity, independent of any current of air whatever. Thus, in a calm and warm day, small clouds are often seen meeting each other in opposite directions, and setting out from such short distances, that it cannot be supposed that any opposite winds are the cause. Such clouds, when they meet, instead of forming a larger one, become much smaller, and sometimes quite vanish; a circumstance most probably owing to the discharge of opposite electricities into each other. And this serves also to throw some light on the true cause of the formation of clouds; for if two clouds, the one electrified positively, and the other negatively, destroy each other on contact, it follows that any quantity of vapour suspended in the atmosphere, while it retains its natural quantity of electricity, remains invisible, but becomes a cloud when electrified either plus or minus.

Theshapesof the clouds are probably owing to their electricity; for in those seasons in which a great commotion has been excited in the atmospherical electricity, the clouds are seen assuming strange and whimsical shapes, that are continually varying. This, as well as the meeting of small clouds in the air, and vanishing upon contact, is a sure sign of thunder.

Theusesof the clouds are evident, as from them proceeds the rain that refreshes the earth, and without which, according to the present state of nature, the whole surface of the earth must become a mere desert. They are likewise useful as a screen interposed between the earth and the scorching rays of the sun, which are often so powerful as to destroy the grass and other tender vegetables. In the more secret operations of nature too, where the electric fluid is concerned, the clouds bear a principal share; and chiefly serve as a medium for conveying that fluid from the atmosphere into the earth, and from the earth into the atmosphere: in doing which, when electrified to a great degree, they sometimes produce very terrible effects; an instance of which is relatedabove.[292]

Mean Temperature 63·35.

[292]Dr. Hutton.

On the twenty-fifth of August, 1761, the princess Charlotte of Mecklinburgh Strelitz, embarked with her attendants at Cuxhaven, on board the royal yacht, under the salute of a squadron destined to convey her to England, as the affianced bride of his majesty George III. On the twenty-eighth, she sailed, and after that day, no despatches were received until she arrived at Harwich, on the sixth of September.

The court was in some concern lest the tediousness of her voyage might have affected her health; but her highness, during her tedious passage, continued in very good health and spirits, often diverting herself with playing on the harpsichord, practising English tunes, and endearing herself to those who were honoured with the care of her person. She had been twice in sight of the British coast, and as often driven off by contrary winds; one day in hopes of landing on English ground, and the next in danger of being driven to the coasts of Norway. Her arrival, therefore, was a desirable event; but as it was night when she came to Harwich, her highness slept on board, and continued there till three in the afternoon the next day, during which time her route had been settled, and instructions received as to the manner of her proceeding to St. James’s.

At her landing, she was received by the mayor and aldermen of Harwich, in their usual formalities. About five o’clock she came to Colchester, and stopped at the house of Mr. Enew, where she was receivedand waited upon by Mrs. Enew and Mrs. Rebow; but captain Best attended her with coffee, and lieutenant John Seaber with tea. Being thus refreshed, she proceeded to Witham, where she arrived at a quarter past seven, and stopped at lord Abercorn’s, and his lordship provided as elegant an entertainment for her as the time would admit. During supper, the door of the room was ordered to stand open, that every body might have the pleasure of seeing her highness, and on each side of her chair stood the lords Harcourt and Anson. She slept that night at his lordship’s house.

A little after twelve o’clock next day, her highness came to Romford, where the king’s coach and servants met her; and after stopping to drink coffee at Mr. Dutton’s where she was waited upon by the king’s servants, she entered the king’s coach. The attendants of her highness were in three other coaches. In the first were some ladies of Mecklenburgh, and in the last was her highness, who sat forward, and the duchess of Ancaster and Hamilton backward.

On the road she was extremely courteous to every body, showing herself, and bowing to all who seemed desirous of seeing her, and ordering the coach to go extremely slow through the towns and villages as she passed, that as many as would might have a full view of her. The carriages were attended by an incredible number of spectators, both on horse and foot, to Stratford-le-Bow and Mile-end, where they turned up Dog-row, and prosecuted their journey to Hackney turnpike, then by Shoreditch church, and up Old-street to the City-road, across Islington, along the New-road into Hyde-park, down Constitution-hill into St. James’s park, and then to the garden-gate of the palace, where she was received by all the royal family. She was handed out of the coach by the duke of York, and met in the garden by his majesty, who in a very affectionate manner raised her up and saluted her, as she was going to pay her obeisance, and then led her into the palace, where she dined with his majesty, the princess dowager, and the princess Augusta. After dinner her highness was pleased to show herself with his majesty in the gallery and other apartments fronting the park.

About eight o’clock in the evening, the procession began to the chapel-royal. Her highness was attended by six dukes’ daughters as bride-maids; her train was supported by the daughters of six earls, and she was preceded by one hundred and twenty ladies in extremely rich dresses, who were handed into the chapel by the duke of York. The marriage ceremony was performed by the archbishop of Canterbury. The duke of Cumberland gave the princess’s hand to his majesty, and, immediately on the joining of their hands, the park and tower guns were fired. There was afterwards a public drawing-room; but no one was presented. The metropolis was illuminated, and there were the utmost public demonstrations of joy.

On the following day, the ninth of September, there was the most brilliant court at St. James’s ever remembered.

On the fourteenth, the lord mayor, aldermen, and common council of London, waited on their majesties and the princess dowager of Wales, with their addresses of congratulation. On the same day the chancellor and university of Cambridge presented the university address, and in the evening, about a quarter after six, their majesties went to Drury-lane theatre in chairs, and most of the royal family in coaches, to see the “Rehearsal;” they were attended by the horse guards. The theatre was full almost as soon as the doors were opened. Of the vast multitude assembled, not a fiftieth part gained admission. Never was seen so brilliant a house; the ladies were mostly dressed in the clothes and jewels they wore at the royal marriage.

On the twelfth of August, 1762, at twenty-four minutes after seven, an heir apparent to the throne afterwards king George IV., was born. The archbishop of Canterbury was in the room, and certain great officers of state in a room adjoining, with the door open into the queen’s apartment. The person who waited on the king with the news, received a present of a five hundred pound bankbill.[293]

On this occasion, congratulatory addresses flowed in on their majesties from every part of the kingdom.

The quakers’ address was presented to his majesty on the first of October, and read by Dr. Fothergill, asfollows:—

George the Third, king of Great Britain, and the dominions thereunto belonging.

The humble address of his Protestant subjects, the people called Quakers.

May it please the king,

The satisfaction we feel in every event that adds to the happiness of our sovereign, prompts us to request admittance to the throne, on the present interesting occasion.

The birth of a prince, the safety of the queen, and thy own domestic felicity increased, call for our thankfulness to the Supreme Dispenser of every blessing; and to the king our dutiful and unfeigned congratulations.

In the prince of Wales we behold another pledge of the security of those inestimable privileges, which we have enjoyed under the monarchs of thy illustrious house—kings, distinguished by their justice, their clemency, and regard to the prosperity of their people: a happy presage, that under their descendants, our civil and religious liberties will devolve, in their full extent, to succeeding generations.

Long may the Divine Providence preserve a life of so great importance to his royal parents, to these kingdoms, and to posterity; that formed to piety and virtue, he may live beloved of God and man, and fill at length the British throne with a lustre not inferior to his predecessors.

The King’s answer.

I take very kindly this fresh instance of your duty and affection, and your congratulations on an event so interesting to me and my family. You may always rely on my protection.

Mean Temperature 64·35.

[293]Gentleman’s Magazine.

August 13, 1783.—The eminent lawyer, John Dunning (lord Ashburton) died. He was the second son of an attorney at Ashburton, in Devonshire, where he was born, October 18, 1731, educated at the free-school there, and articled to his father. Preferring the principles to the practice of the law, he obtained admission to the bar, and attended on the court and circuits without briefs, till, in 1759, he drew a memorial in behalf of the East India company against the claims of the Dutch, which was deemed a masterpiece in language and reasoning, and brought him into immediate notice. His able arguments against general warrants obtained him high reputation, and he was engaged in almost every great case. He became successively recorder of Bristol, member for Calne, and solicitor-general, which office he surrendered on the resignation of his friend lord Shelburne. When this nobleman returned to power he made Mr. Dunning chancellor of the duchy of Lancaster, and a peer of parliament. At the bar he was a most eloquent and powerful orator, and in the house of commons a distinguished opponent of the American war. He is reputed to have been the soundest common and constitutional lawyer of histime.[294]

Mean Temperature 62·77.

[294]General Biographical Dictionary, vol. i. p. 673.

August 14, 1794, died George Colmanthe elder, an elegant scholar, and dramatist. He was born in 1733, at Florence, where his father was appointed resident from Great Britain to the court of Tuscany. He received his education at Westminster-school, and Christchurch-college, Oxford, where he became acquainted with Lloyd, Churchill, and Bonnel Thornton. In conjunction with the latter he wrote “the Connoisseur,” which procured him many eminent literary friendships. By the advice of lord Bath he went to the bar, but neglected its duties to court the muses. His fame as a dramatist is maintained by the “Clandestine Marriage,” the “Provoked Husband,” and the “Jealous Wife.” He wrote several other pieces for the stage, translated Terence, and Horace’s “Art of Poetry,” and became manager of Covent-garden theatre, and afterwards the patentee of the little theatre in the Haymarket, which he managed till paralysis impaired his faculties, and he sunk into a state of helplessness, from whence he never recovered.

Mean Temperature 63·27.

This Romish festival is retained in the church of England calendar.

Our old acquaintance Barnaby Googe rhimes of this festival fromNaogeorgus:—

The blessed virgin Marie’s feast,hath here his place and time,Wherein departing from the earth,she did the heavens clime;Great bundels then of hearbes to Church,the people fast doe beare,The which against all hurtfull things,the priest doth hallow theare.Thus kindle they and nourish still,the people’s wickednesse,And vainly make them to beleevewhatsoever they expresse:For sundrie witchcrafts by these hearbsar wrought, and divers charmes,And cast into the fire, are thoughtto drive away all harmes,And every painefull griefe from man,or beast, for to expell,Farre otherwise than nature, orthe worde of God doth tell.

There is a volume printed at Amsterdam, 1657, entitled, “Jesus, Maria, Joseph; or the Devout Pilgrim of the Everlasting Blessed Virgin Mary, in his Holy Exercises, Affections, and Elevations, upon the sacred Mysteries of Jesus, Maria, Joseph.” From this curious book an amusing extract may be adduced, as a specimen of the language employed by certain writers of the Romish church in their addresses to thevirgin:—

“You, O Mother of God, are the spiritual Paradise of the second Adam; the delicate cabinet of that divine marriage which was made betwixt the two natures; the great hall wherein was celebrated the world’s general reconciliation; you are the nuptial bed of the eternal word; the bright cloud carrying him who hath the cherubins for his chariot; the fleece of wool filled with the sweet dew of heaven, whereof was made that admirable robe of our royal shepherd, in which he vouchsafed to look after his lost sheep; you are the maid and the mother, the humble virgin and the high heaven both together; you are the sacred bridge whereby God himself descended to the earth; you are that piece of cloth whereof was composed the glorious garment of hypostatical union, where the worker was the Holy Ghost, the hand the virtue of the Most High, the wool the old spoils of Adam, the woof your own immaculate flesh, and the shuttle God’s incomparable goodness, which freely gave us the ineffable person of the word incarnate.

“You are the container of the incomprehensible; the root of the world’s first, best, and most beautiful flower; the mother of him who made all things; the nurse of him who provides nourishment for the whole universe; the bosom of him who unfolds all being within his breast; the unspotted robe of him who is clothed with light as with a garment; you are the sally-port through which God penetrated into the world; you are the pavilion of the Holy Ghost; and you are the furnace into which the Almighty hath particularly darted the most fervent sunbeams of his dearest love and affection.

“All hail! fruitful earth, alone proper and only prepared to bring forth the bread corn by which we are all sustained and nourished; happy leaven, which hath given relish to Adam’s whole race, and seasoned the paste whereof the true life-giving and soul-saving bread was composed; ark of honour in which God himself was pleased to repose, and where very glory itself became sanctified; golden pitcher, containing him who provides sweet manna from heaven, and produces honey from the rock to satisfy the appetites of his hungry people; you are the admirable house of God’s humiliation, through whose door he descended to dwell among us; the living book wherein the Father’s eternal word was written by the pen of the Holy Ghost. You are pleasing and comely as Jerusalem, and the aromatical odours issuing from your garments outvie all the delights of Mount Lebanus; you are the sacred pix of celestial perfumes, whose sweet exhalations shall never be exhausted; you are the holy oil, the unextinguishable lamp, the unfading flower, the divinely-woven purple, the royal vestment, the imperial diadem, the throne of the divinity, the gate of Paradise, the queen of the universe, the cabinet of life, the fountain ever flowing with celestial illustrations.

“All hail! the divine lantern encompassing that crystal lamp whose light outshines the sun in its midday splendour, the spiritual sea whence the world’s richest pearl was extracted; the radiantsphere, enclosing him within your sacred folds, whom the heavens cannot contain within their vast circumference; the celestial throne of God, more glistering than that of the glorious cherubims, the pure temple, tabernacle, and seat of the divinity.

“You are the well-fenced orchard, the fruitful border, the fair and delicate garden of sweet flowers, embalming the earth and air with their odoriferous fragrance, yet shut up and secured from any enemy’s entrance and irruption; you are the holy fountain, sealed with the signet of the most sacred Trinity, from whence the happy waters of life inflow upon the whole universe; you are the happy city of God, whereof such glorious things are everywhere sung andspoken.”[295]

One of the highest mountains of the chain that encircles the territory of Marseilles, has upon its summit a very singular rock, which appears exactly like the ruin of an old castle. This mountain derived its name from a chapel about halfway up, dedicated to the holy virgin, under the name of “Notre Dame des Anges,” but destroyed during the revolution. On the day of the Assumption, there is held on the mountain in the vicinity of the chapel, what is called in the Provençal tongue, aroumaragi, which is a country feast. The people from the neighbouring parts assemble on the spot, dressed in their Sunday clothes, where they join in dancing, playing at bowls, of which the Provençaux are passionately fond, quoits, running races, and other rural sports. Every village in Provence has a similar fête on some day in the year. In case of the village being named after any saint, which is very common, as St. Joseph, St. Barnabé, St. Zacharie, St. Louis, and many others, the roumaragi is held on that saint’s day. That on the mountain of Notre Dame des Anges is held on the Assumption, on account of the chapel having been dedicated to the holy virgin. During the revolution there was a general suspension of these festivals, but to the great joy of the Provençaux, they were resumed underNapoleon.[296]

It is related in Mr. Dawson Turner’s “Tour through Normandy,” that formerly a pageant in honour of the virgin was held in the archbishopric of Rouen. Des Marêts, the governor of Dieppe, in 1443, established it in honour of the final expulsion of the English. The first master of theGuild of the Assumptionwas the founder of it, under whose auspices and direction it was conducted.

About midsummer the principal inhabitants used to assemble at thehotel de ville, or townhouse of Dieppe, and there they selected the girl of the most exemplary character to represent the Virgin Mary, and with her six other young women, to act the parts of the daughters of Sion. The honour of figuring in this holy drama was greatly coveted; and the historian of Dieppe gravely assures us, that the earnestness felt on the occasion mainly contributed to the preservation of that purity of manners and that genuine piety, which subsisted in this town longer than in any other of France! But the election of the virgin was not sufficient: a representative of St. Peter was also to be found among the clergy; and the laity were so far favoured, that they were permitted to furnish the eleven other apostles.

This done, upon the fourteenth of August the virgin was laid in a cradle of the form of a tomb, and was carried early in the morning, (of the fifteenth,) attended by her suite of either sex, to the church of St. Jacques; while, before the door of the master of the guild, was stretched a large carpet, embroidered with verses in letters of gold, setting forth his own good qualities, and his love for the holy Mary. Hither also, as soon aslaudshad been sung, the procession repaired from the church, and then it was joined by the governor of the town, the members of the guild, the municipal officers, and the clergy of the parish of St. Remi. Thus attended, they paraded the town, singing hymns, which were accompanied by a full band. The procession was increased by the great body of the inhabitants; and its impressiveness was still further augmented by numbers of the youth of either sex, who assumed the garb and attributes of their patron saints, and mixed in the immediate train of the principal actors. They then again repaired to the church, whereTe Deumwas sung by the full choir, in commemorationof the victory over the English; and high mass was performed, and the sacrament administered to the whole party.

During the service, a scenic representation was given of theAssumption of the Virgin. A scaffolding was raised, reaching nearly to the top of the dome, and supporting an azure canopy intended to emulate the “spangled vault of heaven;” and about two feet below the summit of it appeared, seated on a splendid throne, an old man as the image of the Father Almighty, a representation equally absurd and impious, and which could alone be tolerated by the votaries of the worst superstitions of popery. On either side four pasteboard angels, of the size of men, floated in the air, and flapped their wings in cadence to the sounds of the organ; while above was suspended a large triangle, at whose corners were placed three smaller angels, who, at the intermission of each office, performed upon a set of little bells the hymn of “Ave Maria gratiâ Dei plena per Secula,” &c., accompanied by a larger angel on each side with a trumpet. To complete this portion of the spectacle, two others, below the old man’s feet, held tapers, which were lighted as the services began, and extinguished at their close; on which occasions the figures were made to express reluctance by turning quickly about; so that it required some dexterity to apply the extinguishers. At the commencement of the mass, two of the angels by the side of the Almighty descended to the foot of the altar, and, placing themselves by the tomb, in which a pasteboard figure of the virgin had been substituted for her living representative, gently raised it to the feet of the Father. The image, as it mounted, from time to time, lifted its head and extended its arms, as if conscious of the approaching beatitude; then, after having received the benediction, and been encircled by another angel with a crown of glory, it gradually disappeared behind the clouds. At this instant a buffoon, who all the time had been playing his antics below, burst into an extravagant fit of joy; at one moment clapping his hands most violently, at the next stretching himself out as if dead. Finally he ran up to the feet of the old man, and hid himself under his legs, so as to show only his head. The people called him Grimaldi, an appellation that appears to have belonged to him by usage; and it is a singular coincidence, that the surname of the noblest family of Genoa the Proud, thus assigned by the rude rabble of a seaport to their buffoon, should belong of right to the sire and son, whosemopsandmowesafford pastime to the upper gallery at Covent-garden.

Thus did the pageant proceed in all its grotesque glory; and, while

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