[84]Rome in the Nineteenth Century.[85]Doblado’s Letters from Spain.
[84]Rome in the Nineteenth Century.
[85]Doblado’s Letters from Spain.
It is related in the Scottish newspapers that about the year 1770, a Selkirkshire farmer, a great original in his way, and remarkable for his fondness of a “big price” for every thing, attended at Langholm fair, and, notwithstanding his parsimonious habits, actually sold his lambs to a perfect stranger upon his simply promising to pay him punctually at the next market. On his return home, the farmer’s servants, who regularly messed at the same table, and seldom honoured him with the name of master, inquired “Weel, Sandy, hae ye sell’t the lambs?” “Atweel hae I, and I gat saxpence mair a-head for them than ony body in the market.” “And a’ weel paid siller?” “Na, the siller’s no paid yet, but its sure eneuch.” “Wha’s your merchant, and, and what’s your security?” “Troth I never spiered, but he’s a decent lookin’ man wi tap boots, and a bottle-green coat.” The servants, at this, laughed outright, and tauntingly told him he would never get a farthing. Sandy, however, thought differently, and having accidentally hurt his leg so as to prevent him from travelling, he sent a shepherd to Langholm, with instructions to look for a man with a bottle-green coat, whom he was sure he said, to find standing near a certain sign. The shepherd did as he was bid, and, strange to say, discovered a person standing at the identical spot, who, on learning his errand, inquired kindly for his master, and paid the money to the uttermost farthing. Sandy, who piqued himself on his skill in physiognomy, heard the news without emotion, and merely said, “I wad at any time trust mair to looks than words, and whan I saw Colly smeiling about hun sae kindly, I ken’t weel eneuch he couldna be a scoundrel.” This result differs from one which might have been expected. Sandy believed in a “second sight,” which, in these times, a knowledge of the arts of life disqualify most persons for indulging on such an occasion.
In an early edition of vol. i. p. 374, the death of sir Isaac Newton is stated to have happened on this day in the year 1727; and it is added, that he was born on the 25th of December 1742, instead of the proper year 1642.
On the same page the death of the celebrated earl Mansfield, is mentioned to have taken place on the same day in the year 1793. He was aged eighty-nine, and his autograph is now added for the gratification of those who desire to be acquainted with the hand-writing of distinguished persons.
signature
Mean Temperature 42·81.
Concerning this saint in our almanacs, see vol. i. p. 380.
For the Every-Day Book.
In the summer of 1825, a meeting was held at Tunbridge in Kent, by some gentlemen interested in the formation of a rail road, in that neighbourhood; at which was a present a young gentleman well known for astonishing celerity in resolving difficult calculations by the aid of memory alone. One of the company, a great snuff-taker, and good mathematician,proposed the following, (as he thought,) puzzling question;
“If I take so many (a given quantity) of pinches of snuff every quarter of an hour, how many pinches shall I have taken in fifteen years?”
The young gentleman in little more than a minute gave his answer.
The snuff-taker called for pen, ink, and paper, to examine the answer, when after a considerable time he declared it erroneous; upon hearing which, the calculator asked the snuff-taker if he had allowed for the leap-years? being answered in the negative, the snuff-taker was requested to add them, when the calculator’s answer was found to be correct to a single pinch, to the no small astonishment and delight of the assembled party.
A. S.
The preceding anecdote is wholly new, and, after a “pinch of snuff,” the editor introduces a topic somewhat corresponding.
To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.
Sir,
The use of tobacco, “that stinking weed so much abused to God’s dishonour,” as Stow expresses himself, having become so common, as to be almost “naturalized on English ground;” perhaps a short article on the subject at this seasonable period, may not be unacceptable to the numerous readers of theEvery-Day Book. Let me however be understood in the outset.
I do not mean to write a historical—nor yet critical—nor yet a poetical essay on my subject—no! I merely wish to “cull a fewleaves” from the “fragrant herb,” and leave them for you toburn, or your readers tocut up, orsmoke, at their good pleasure. Dropping all metaphor, the subject is worth attention, and treated with judgment, might be rendered highly interesting. Resigning all pretension however to that quality, I have merely collected a few “passages,” which, I hope, will be considered worthy of a place in your interesting miscellany.
“Commencing our commencement,” says the old French proverb, my medical dictionary, (Hooper’s) has the following under thishead:—
“Tobacco. See Nicotiana.”
“Nicotiana. (From M. Nicot, who first brought it into Europe.) Tobacco.”
“1st. The name of a genus of plants in the Linnean system. ClassPentandria; order,Monogynia.”
“2nd. The former pharmacopæial name of the officinal tobacco,” &c. &c.
Hooper’s Medical Dictionary,4th edit. p. 594.
In that elegant work, “Flora Domestica,” the botanical summary says, “This genus is named from Jean Nicot of Nismes, agent from the king of France to Portugal, who procured the seeds from a Dutchman, and sent them to France. Tobacco, from the island Tobago. The French have many names for it; as, le tabac: Nicotiane from its first introducer; petum [the original Indian appellation;] herbe du grand prieur; herbe à la Reine; herbe sacrìe; herbe propre à tous maux; herbe de St. Croix; &c. &c.Italian, tabacco; terna bona.”
Flora Domestica, 1823. p. 365.
Of these names, the Italian one of “terna bona,” is very singular, and asarbitraryas need be, for example, what connection can there be between tobacco, and the “grand prior,” the “queen’s,” or the “holy cross?” “Propre à tous maux,” israthertoo comprehensive an appellation; I have copied but few of these names, many as there may appear to be.
Of all the subjects which have employed the pens of writers, perhaps no one has called forth so great a diversity of opinion as this; and we may perhaps go further, and say, that no other (save only,loveandwar) has attracted so much notice since its introduction. Popes, poets, historians, kings, and physicians, have dwelt upon its use and abuse, and even historians have condescended to mention it. But to proceed.
With regard to its first introduction into England, Hume says, “chap. xli. Eliz. 1558, 1603,” at the close of the narration of Drake’s attack on the Spanish provinces in the West Indies. “It is thought that Drake’s fleet first introduced the use of tobacco into England.”
In an after part of his work “Appendix, James I. 1603-1625,” he adds,
“After supplying themselves with provisions more immediately necessary for the support of life, the new planters began the cultivating of tobacco; and James notwithstanding his antipathy to that drug, which he affirmed to be perniciousto men’s morals as well as health, gave them permission to enter it in England; and he inhibited by proclamation all importation of it from Spain.”
At this period originated the story of the wetting poor sir Walter Raleigh, received from the hands (and bucket) of his servant; this, however, is too common to deserve transferring to your pages. The following facts, however, are not so generally known. “On the first introduction of tobacco, our ancestors carried its use to an enormous excess, smoking even in the churches, which made pope Urban VIII. in 1624, publish a decree of excommunication against those who used such an unseemly practice; and Innocent XII.A. D.1690, solemnly excommunicated all those who should take snuff or tobacco, in St. Peter’s church at Rome.”Flora Domestica, p. 367.
This excess is perhaps only equalled by the case of William Breedon, vicar of Thornton, Bucks, “a profound divine, but absolutely the most polite person for nativities in that age;” of whom William Lilly, “student in astrology,” says, “when he had no tobacco, (and I suppose too much drink,) he would cut the bell ropes and smoke them.”—History of Lilly’s Life and Times, p.44.[86]
To the eulogist of tobacco, who, oncolumn 195of your present volume, defies “all daintie meats,” and
——“keeps his kitchen in a box,And roast meat in a pipe,”
——“keeps his kitchen in a box,And roast meat in a pipe,”
——“keeps his kitchen in a box,And roast meat in a pipe,”
take as an antidote the following from Peter Hausted’s Raphael Thorius: London, 1551.
Let it be damn’d to Hell, and call’d from thence,Proserpine’s wine, the Furies’ frankincense,The Devil’s addle eggs.
Let it be damn’d to Hell, and call’d from thence,Proserpine’s wine, the Furies’ frankincense,The Devil’s addle eggs.
Let it be damn’d to Hell, and call’d from thence,Proserpine’s wine, the Furies’ frankincense,The Devil’s addle eggs.
Hawkins Brown, esq., parodying Ambrose Philips, writes thus prettily to hispipe:—
Little tube of mighty power,Charmer of an idle hour,Object of my warm desire;Lip of wax, and eye of fire;And thy snowy taper waist,With my finger gently brac’d; &c.
Little tube of mighty power,Charmer of an idle hour,Object of my warm desire;Lip of wax, and eye of fire;And thy snowy taper waist,With my finger gently brac’d; &c.
Little tube of mighty power,Charmer of an idle hour,Object of my warm desire;Lip of wax, and eye of fire;And thy snowy taper waist,With my finger gently brac’d; &c.
In our own times the following have appeared.
“La Pipe de Tabac,” a French song to music, by Geweaux, contains the following humorousstanzas:—
“Le soldat baille sous la tente,Le matelot sur le tillac,Bientôt ils ont l’âme contente,Avec la pipe de tabac;Si pourtant survient une belle,A l’instant le cœur fait tìc tac,Et l’Amant oublie auprès d’elle,Jusqu’à la pipe de tabac.“Je tiens cette maxime utile,De ce fameux Monsieur de Crac,En campagne comme à la ville,Font tous l’amour et le tabac,Quand ce grand homme allait en guerreIl portait dans son petit sac,Le doux portrait de sa bergère,Avec la pipe de tabac.”
“Le soldat baille sous la tente,Le matelot sur le tillac,Bientôt ils ont l’âme contente,Avec la pipe de tabac;Si pourtant survient une belle,A l’instant le cœur fait tìc tac,Et l’Amant oublie auprès d’elle,Jusqu’à la pipe de tabac.“Je tiens cette maxime utile,De ce fameux Monsieur de Crac,En campagne comme à la ville,Font tous l’amour et le tabac,Quand ce grand homme allait en guerreIl portait dans son petit sac,Le doux portrait de sa bergère,Avec la pipe de tabac.”
“Le soldat baille sous la tente,Le matelot sur le tillac,Bientôt ils ont l’âme contente,Avec la pipe de tabac;Si pourtant survient une belle,A l’instant le cœur fait tìc tac,Et l’Amant oublie auprès d’elle,Jusqu’à la pipe de tabac.
“Je tiens cette maxime utile,De ce fameux Monsieur de Crac,En campagne comme à la ville,Font tous l’amour et le tabac,Quand ce grand homme allait en guerreIl portait dans son petit sac,Le doux portrait de sa bergère,Avec la pipe de tabac.”
In the accompanying English version, they are thusimitated:—
See, content, the soldier smilingRound the vet’ran smoking crewAnd the tar, the time beguiling,Sighs and whiffs, and thinks of Sue.Calm the bosom; naught distresses;—Labour’s harvest’s nearly ripe;—‘Susan’s health;’—the brim he presses,—Here alone he quits his pipe.Faithful still to every dutyNe’er his faithful heart will roam;Mines of wealth, and worlds of beauty,Tempt him not from Susan’s home.From his breast—wherever steering,Oft a sudden tear to wipe,Susan’s portrait,—sorrow cheering,First he draws—and then his pipe!
See, content, the soldier smilingRound the vet’ran smoking crewAnd the tar, the time beguiling,Sighs and whiffs, and thinks of Sue.Calm the bosom; naught distresses;—Labour’s harvest’s nearly ripe;—‘Susan’s health;’—the brim he presses,—Here alone he quits his pipe.Faithful still to every dutyNe’er his faithful heart will roam;Mines of wealth, and worlds of beauty,Tempt him not from Susan’s home.From his breast—wherever steering,Oft a sudden tear to wipe,Susan’s portrait,—sorrow cheering,First he draws—and then his pipe!
See, content, the soldier smilingRound the vet’ran smoking crewAnd the tar, the time beguiling,Sighs and whiffs, and thinks of Sue.Calm the bosom; naught distresses;—Labour’s harvest’s nearly ripe;—‘Susan’s health;’—the brim he presses,—Here alone he quits his pipe.
Faithful still to every dutyNe’er his faithful heart will roam;Mines of wealth, and worlds of beauty,Tempt him not from Susan’s home.From his breast—wherever steering,Oft a sudden tear to wipe,Susan’s portrait,—sorrow cheering,First he draws—and then his pipe!
Our immortal Byron, in his poem of “The Island,” sings thus the praises of “the Indianweed:”—
Sublime tobacco!—which from east to westCheers the tar’s labours, or the Turkman’s rest;Which on the Moslem’s ottoman dividesHis hours,—and rivals opium and his brides;Magnificent in Stamboul, but less grand,Though not less loved, in Wapping or the Strand;Divine in hookas, glorious in a pipeWhen tipped with amber, mellow, rich, and ripe;Like other charmers, wooing the caressMore dazzlingly when daring in full dress;Yet thy true lovers more admire by far,Thy naked beauties—— Give me a cigar!
Sublime tobacco!—which from east to westCheers the tar’s labours, or the Turkman’s rest;Which on the Moslem’s ottoman dividesHis hours,—and rivals opium and his brides;Magnificent in Stamboul, but less grand,Though not less loved, in Wapping or the Strand;Divine in hookas, glorious in a pipeWhen tipped with amber, mellow, rich, and ripe;Like other charmers, wooing the caressMore dazzlingly when daring in full dress;Yet thy true lovers more admire by far,Thy naked beauties—— Give me a cigar!
Sublime tobacco!—which from east to westCheers the tar’s labours, or the Turkman’s rest;Which on the Moslem’s ottoman dividesHis hours,—and rivals opium and his brides;Magnificent in Stamboul, but less grand,Though not less loved, in Wapping or the Strand;Divine in hookas, glorious in a pipeWhen tipped with amber, mellow, rich, and ripe;Like other charmers, wooing the caressMore dazzlingly when daring in full dress;Yet thy true lovers more admire by far,Thy naked beauties—— Give me a cigar!
If, Sir, you should deem this communication worthy of your notice, I shall feel inclined to pursue my researches farther; and, whatever the result, allow me in the mean time to subscribe myself,
Your well-wisher,Fumo.
P. S. Should you, Sir,burnthis, the Roman adage, which I have used as my motto, will be once moreverified.
Mean Temperature 43·44.
[86]“The following commendation of Lilly is inserted under a curious frontispiece to his “Anima Astrologiæ,” 1676, containing portraits of Cardan, Guido, and himself.“Let Envy burst—Vrania’s glad to seeHer sons thus Ioyn’d in a Triplicity;To Cardan and to Guido much is due,But in one Lilly wee behold them Two.”
[86]“The following commendation of Lilly is inserted under a curious frontispiece to his “Anima Astrologiæ,” 1676, containing portraits of Cardan, Guido, and himself.
“Let Envy burst—Vrania’s glad to seeHer sons thus Ioyn’d in a Triplicity;To Cardan and to Guido much is due,But in one Lilly wee behold them Two.”
“Let Envy burst—Vrania’s glad to seeHer sons thus Ioyn’d in a Triplicity;To Cardan and to Guido much is due,But in one Lilly wee behold them Two.”
“Let Envy burst—Vrania’s glad to seeHer sons thus Ioyn’d in a Triplicity;To Cardan and to Guido much is due,But in one Lilly wee behold them Two.”
In 1826, this being the Wednesday before Easter, calledPassion Wednesday, is celebrated with great solemnity in catholic countries. At Seville a white veil conceals the officiating priest and ministers, during mass, until the words in the service “the veil of the temple was rent in twain” are chaunted. At this moment the veil disappears, as if by enchantment, and the ears of the congregation are stunned with the noise of concealed fireworks, which are meant to imitate an earthquake.
The evening service, namedTinieblas, (darkness) is performed this day after sunset. The cathedral, on this occasion, exhibits the most solemn and impressive aspect. The high altar, concealed behind dark grey curtains which fall from the height of the cornices, is dimly lighted by six yellow wax candles, while the gloom of the whole temple is broken in large masses by wax torches, fixed one on each pillar of the centre aisle, about one-third of its length from the ground. An elegant candlestick of brass, from fifteen to twenty feet high, is placed, on this and the following evening, between the choir and the altar, holding thirteen candles, twelve of yellow, and one of bleached wax, distributed on the two sides of the triangle which terminates the machine. Each candle stands by a brass figure of one of the apostles. The white candle occupying the apex is allotted to the virgin Mary. At the conclusion of each of the twelve psalms appointed for the service, one of the yellow candles is extinguished, till, the white taper burning alone, it is taken down and concealed behind the altar. Immediately after the ceremony, theMiserere, (Psalm 50.) set, every other year, to a new strain of music, is sung in a grand style. This performance lasts exactly an hour. At the conclusion of the last verse the clergy break up abruptly without the usual blessing, making a thundering noise by clapping their movable seats against the frame of the stalls, or knocking their ponderous breviaries against the boards, as the rubricdirects.[87]
On the 22d of March, 1687, Jean Baptiste Lully, the eminent musical composer, died at Paris. He was born of obscure parents at Florence, in 1634, and evincing a taste for music, a benevolent cordelier, influenced by no other consideration than the hope of his becoming eminent in the science, undertook to teach him the guitar. While under his tuition, a French gentleman, the chevalier Guise, arrived at Florence, commissioned by Mlle. de Montpensier, niece to Louis XIV., to bring her some pretty little Italian boy as a page. The countenance of Lully did not answer to the instructions, but his vivacity, wit, and skill on an instrument, as much the favourite of the French as of the Italians, determined the chevalier to send him to Paris. On his arrival, he was presented to the lady; but his figure obtained for him so cool a reception, that she commanded him to be entered in her household books as an under-scullion. Lully was at this time ten years old. In the moments of his leisure from the kitchen, he used to scrape upon a wretched fiddle. He was overheard by a person about the court, who informed the princess he had an excellent taste for music, and a master was employed to teach him the violin, under whom in the course of a few months, he became sogreat a proficient, that he was elevated to the rank of court-musician. In consequence of an unlucky accident he was dismissed from this situation; but, obtaining admission into the king’s band of violins, he applied himself so closely to study, that in a little time he began to compose. His airs were noticed by the king, Lully was sent for, and his performance of them was thought so excellent, that a new band was formed, calledles petits violons, and under his direction it surpassed the band of twenty-four, till that time celebrated throughout Europe. This was about the year 1660, when the favourite entertainments at the French court were dramatic representations, consisting of dancing intermixed with singing and speaking in recitative; they were calledballets, and to many of them Lully was employed in composing the music.
In 1669, an opera in the French language, on the model of that at Venice, being established at Paris, Lully obtained the situation of composer and joint director, left his former band, instituted one of his own, and formed the design of building a new theatre near the Luxemburg palace, which he accomplished, and opened in November, 1670.
Previous to this, Lully, having been appointed surperintendent to the king’s private music, had neglected the practice of the violin; yet, whenever he could be prevailed with to play, his excellence astonished all who heard him.
In 1686, the king recovering from an indisposition that threatened his life, Lully composed a “Te Deum,” which was not more remarkable for its excellence, than the unhappy accident with which its performance was attended. In the preparations for the execution of it, and the more to demonstrate his zeal, he himself beat the time. With the cane that he used for this purpose, he struck his foot, which caused so much inflammation, that his physician advised him to have his little toe taken off; and, after a delay of some days, his foot; and at length the whole limb. At this juncture, an empiric offered to perform a cure without amputation. Two thousand pistoles were promised him if he should accomplish it, but his efforts were vain; and Lully died.
Lully’s confessor in his last illness required as a testimony of his sincere repentance, and as the condition of his absolution, that he should throw the last of his operas into the fire. After some excuses, Lully acquiesced, and pointing to a drawer in which the rough draft of “Achilles and Polixenes” was deposited, it was taken out and burnt, and the confessor went away satisfied. Lully grew better and was thought out of danger, when one of the young princes came to visit him: “What, Baptiste,” says he to him, “have you thrown your opera into the fire? You were a fool for thus giving credit to a gloomy Jansenist, and burning good music.” “Hush! hush! my lord,” answered Lully, in a whisper, “I knew very well what I was about, I have another copy of it!” This pleasantry was followed by a relapse; and the prospect of inevitable death threw him into such pangs of remorse, that he submitted to be laid on ashes with a cord round his neck; and, in this situation, he chaunted a deep sense of his late trangression.
Lully contributed greatly to the improvement of French music. In his overtures he introduced fugues, and was the first who, in the choruses, made use of the side and kettle drums. It is difficult to characterize his style, which seems to have been derived from no other source than his own invention.
His compositions were chiefly operas and other dramatic entertainments, adapted to the desires of Louis XIV., who was fond of dancing, and had not taste for any music but airs, in the composition of which a stated number of bars was the chief rule to be observed. Of harmony or fine melody, or of the relation between poetry and music, he seems to have had no conception; and these were restraints upon Lully’s talents.
He is said to have been the inventor of that species of composition, the overture; for, though the symphonies or preludes of Carissimi, Colonna, and others, are, in effect, overtures, yet they were compositions of a mild and placid kind, while Lully’s are animated and full ofenergy.[88]
Notwithstanding the character of Lully’s compositions, when unrestricted by the royal command and the bad taste of the court, he was one day reproached with having set nothing to music but languid verses. He flew to his harpsichord, and wildly running over the keys, sung, with great violence of gesture, the following terrific lines from Racine’s tragedy of “Iphigenie:”
“Un prêtre environne d’une foule cruellePortera sur ma fille, une maine criminelleDechirera son sein, et d’un œil curieuxDans son cœur palpitant consultera les Dieux.”
“Un prêtre environne d’une foule cruellePortera sur ma fille, une maine criminelleDechirera son sein, et d’un œil curieuxDans son cœur palpitant consultera les Dieux.”
“Un prêtre environne d’une foule cruellePortera sur ma fille, une maine criminelleDechirera son sein, et d’un œil curieuxDans son cœur palpitant consultera les Dieux.”
When cardinal d’Estrees was at Rome, he highly praised Corelli’s sonatas to that eminent composer. “Sir,” replied Corelli, “if they have any merit it is because I have studied Lully.” Handel has imitated Lully in many of hisovertures.[89]
Mean Temperature 42·79.
[87]Doblado’s Letters from Spain.[88]Biograph. Dictionary of Musicians.[89]Seward.
[87]Doblado’s Letters from Spain.
[88]Biograph. Dictionary of Musicians.
[89]Seward.
These denominations have been sufficiently explained in vol. i. p. 400, with an account of theMaundyat the chapel royal St. James’s. The Romish church this day institutes certain ceremonies to commemorate the washing of the disciples’ feet.
The particulars of these solemnities are recorded by the rev. Blanco White.
The ceremonies of the high mass, are especially intended as a remembrance of the last supper, and the service, as it proceeds, rapidly assumes the deepest hues of melancholy. The bells, in every steeple, from one loud and joyous peal, cease at once, and leave a peculiar heavy stillness, which none can conceive but those who have lived in a populous Spanish town long enough to lose the sense of that perpetual tinkling which agitates the ear during the day and great part of the night.
In every church a “host,” consecrated at the mass, is carried with great solemnity to a temporary structure, called themonument, which is erected with more or less splendour, according to the wealth of the establishment. It is there deposited in a silver urn, generally shaped like a sepulchre, the key of which, hanging from a gold chain, is committed by the priest to the care of a chief inhabitant of the parish, who wears it round his neck as a badge of honour, till the next morning. The key of the cathedral monument is intrusted to the archbishop, if present, or to the dean in his absence.
The striking effect of the last-mentioned structure, the “monument” in the cathedral, is not easily conceived. It fills up the space between four arches of the nave, rising in five bodies to the roof of the temple. The columns of the two lower tiers, which, like the rest of the monument, imitate white marble filletted with gold, are hollow, allowing the numerous attendants who take care of the lights that cover it from the ground to the very top, to do their duty during four-and-twenty hours, without any disturbance or unseemly bustle. More than three thousand pounds of wax, besides one hundred and sixty silver lamps, are employed in the illumination.
The gold casket set with jewels, which contains the host, lies deposited in an elegant temple of massive silver, weighing five hundred and ten marks, which is seen through a blaze of light on the pediment of the monument. Two members of the chapter in their choral robes, and six inferior priests in surplices, attend on their knees before the shrine, till they are relieved by an equal number of the same classes at the end of every hour. This adoration is performed without interruption from the moment of depositing the host in the casket till that of taking it out the next morning. The cathedral, as well as many others of the wealthiest churches, are kept open and illuminated the whole night.
One of the public sights of the town, on this day, is the splendid cold dinner which the archbishop gives to twelve paupers, in commemoration of the apostles. The dinner is to be seen laid out on tables filling up two large rooms in the palace. The twelve guests are completely clothed at the expense of their host; and having partaken of a more homely dinner in the kitchen, they are furnished with large baskets to take away the splendid commons allotted to each in separate dishes, which they sell to thegourmandsof the town. Each, besides, is allowed to dispose of his napkin, curiously made up into the figure of some bird or quadruped, which people buy as ornaments to their china cupboards, and as specimens of the perfection to which some of the poorer nuns have carried the art of plaiting.
At two in the afternoon, the archbishop,attended by his chapter, repairs to the cathedral, where he performs the ceremony, which, from the notion of its being literally enjoined by our saviour, is called themandatum. The twelve paupers are seated on a platform erected before the high altar, and the prelate, stripped of his silk robes, and kneeling successively before each, washes their feet in a large silver bason.
About this time the processions, known by the name ofcofradías, (confraternities) begin to move out of the different churches to which they are attached. The head of the police appoints the hour when each of these pageants is to appear in the square of the town hall, and theaudienciaor court of justice. From thence their route to the cathedral, and out of it, to a certain point, is the same for all. These streets are lined by two rows of spectators of the lower classes, the windows being occupied by those of a higher rank. An order is previously published by the town-crier, directing the inhabitants to decorate their windows, which they do by hanging out the showy silk and chintz counterpanes of their beds. As to the processions themselves, except one which has the privilege of parading the town in the dead of night, they have little to attract the eye or affect the imagination. Their chief object is to convey groups of figures, as large as life, representing different scenes of our saviour’s passion.
There is something remarkable in the established and characteristic marks of some figures. The Jews are distinguished by long aquiline noses. Saint Peter is completely bald. The dress of the apostle John is green, and that of Judas Iscariot yellow; and so intimately associated is this circumstance with the idea of the traitor, that it has brought that colour into universal discredit. It is probably from this circumstance, (though yellow may have been allotted to Judas from some more ancient prejudice,) that the inquisition has adopted it for thesanbenito, or coat of infamy, which persons convicted of heresy are compelled to wear. The red hair of Judas, like Peter’s baldness, seems to be agreed upon by all the painters and sculptors in Europe.Judas’ hairis a usual name in Spain; and a similar application, it should seem, was used in England in Shakspeare’s time. “His hair,” says Rosalind, inAs you like it, “is of the dissembling colour:” to which Celia answers—“Something browner than Judas’s.”
The midnight procession derives considerable effect from the stillness of the hour, and the dress of the attendants on the sacred image. None are admitted to this religious act but the members of that fraternity; generally young men of fashion. They all appear in a black tunic, with a broad belt so contrived as to give the idea of a long rope tied tight round the body; a method of penance commonly practised in former times. The face is covered with a long black veil, falling from a sugar-loaf cap three feet high. Thus arrayed, the nominalpenitentsadvance, with silent and measured steps, in two lines, dragging a train six feet long, and holding aloft a wax-candle of twelve pounds, which they rest upon the hip-bone, holding it obliquely towards the vacant space between them. The veils, being of the same stuff with the cap and tunic, would absolutely impede the sight but for two small holes through which the eyes are seen to gleam, adding no small effect to the dismal appearance of such strange figures. The pleasure of appearing in a disguise, in a country where masquerades are not tolerated by the government, is a great inducement, to the young men for subscribing to this religious association. The disguise, it is true, does not in the least relax the rules of strict decorum which the ceremony requires; yet the mock penitents think themselves repaid for the fatigue and trouble of the night by the fresh impression which they expect to make on the already won hearts of their mistresses, who, by preconcerted signals, are enabled to distinguish their lovers, in spite of the veils and the uniformity of the dresses.
It is scarcely forty years since the disgusting exhibition of people streaming in their own blood, was discontinued by an order of the government. Thesepenitentswere generally from among the most debauched and abandoned of the lower classes. They appeared in white linen petticoats, pointed white caps and veils, and a jacket of the same colour, which exposed their naked shoulders to view. Having, previous to their joining the procession, been scarified on the back, they beat themselves with a cat-o’nine-tails, making the blood run down to the skirts of their garment. It may be easily conceived that religion had noshare in these voluntary inflictions. There was a notion afloat, that this act of penance had an excellent effect on theconstitution.[90]
The pope commemorates the washing of the disciples’ feet by officiating in person. A modern traveller who was present at the ceremony says,—“There werethirteeninstead of twelve; the one being the representative of the angel that once came to the table of twelve that St. Gregory was serving. The twelve were old priests, but the one who performed the part of the angel was very young. They were all dressed in loose white gowns, and white caps on their heads, and clean woollen stockings, and were seated in a row along the wall, under a canopy. When the pope entered and took his seat at the top of the room, the whole company of them knelt in their places, turning towards him; and on his hand being extended in benediction, they all rose again and reseated themselves. The splendid garments of the pope were then taken off; and clad in a white linen robe which he had on under the others, and wearing the bishop’s mitre instead of the tiara, he approached the pilgrims, took from an attendant cardinal a silver bucket of water, knelt before the first of them, immersed one foot in the water, put water over it with his hand, and touched it with a square fringed cloth; kissed the leg, and gave the cloth, and a sort of white flower or feather, to the man; then went on to the next. The whole ceremony was over, I think, in less than two minutes, so rapidly was this act of humility gone through. From thence the pope returned to his throne, put on his robes of white and silver again, and proceeded to the Sala di Tavola: the thirteen priests were seated in a row at the table, which was spread with a variety of dishes, and adorned with a profusion of flowers. The pope gave the blessing, and walking along the side of the table opposite to them, handed each of them bread, then plates, and lastly, cups of wine. They regularly all rose up to receive what he presented; and the pope having gone through the forms of service, and given them his parting benediction, left them to finish their dinner in peace. They carry away what they cannot eat, and receive a small present in moneybesides.”[91]
Mean Temperature 43·15
[90]Doblado’s Letters from Spain.[91]Rome in the Nineteenth Century.
[90]Doblado’s Letters from Spain.
[91]Rome in the Nineteenth Century.
This annual commemoration is the only one observed in England, with the exception of Christmas, by the suspension of all business, and the closing of shops. The late bishop Porteus having particularly insisted on this method of keeping Good Friday, the reverend Robert Robinson of Cambridge wrote a remarkable pamphlet, entitled, “The History and Mystery of Good Friday,” wherein he urges various statements and arguments against the usage. This tract has been published from time to time by Mr. Benjamin Flower. The controversy is referred to, because the writings of the bishop and his opponent state the grounds on both sides. It is to be remarked likewise, that several dissenters openly engage in their usual avocations, contrary to the general practice, which does not appear to be enforced by the church of England, farther than by notices through the parochial beadle and other officers.
On the popular cry of “hot-cross buns,” and the custom of eating them to-day, there are particulars in vol. i. p. 402; and in the illustration of the ancient name and use of thebun, a few interesting passages are added. “The offerings which people in ancient times used to present to the gods, were generally purchased at the entrance of the temple; especially every species of consecrated bread, which was denominated accordingly. One species of sacred bread which used to be offered to the gods, was of great antiquity, and calledboun. The Greeks, who changed thenufinal into asigma, expressed it in the nominative Βους, but in the accusative more trulyboun, Βουν. Hesychius speaks of theboun, and describes it a kind of cake with a representation of two horns. Julius Pollux mentions it after the same manner, a sort of cake with horns. Diogenes Laertius, speaking of the same offering being made by Emperocles, describesthe chief ingredients of which it was composed:—‘he offered up one of the sacred libra, called aboun, which was made of fine flour and honey.’ It is said of Cecrops, he first offered up this sort of sweet bread. Hence we may judge of the antiquity of the custom, from the times to which Cecrops is referred. The prophet Jeremiah takes notice of this kind of offering when he is speaking of the Jewish women at Pathros, in Egypt, and of their base idolatry; in all which their husbands had encouraged them: the women, in their expostulation upon his rebuke, tell him, ‘Did we make her cakes to worship her?’ &c. Jer. xliv. 18, 19. Ib. vii.18.[92]”
In the midland districts of Ireland, viz. the province of Connaught, on Good Friday, it is a common practice with the lower orders of Irish catholics to prevent their young from having any sustenance, even to those at the breast, from twelve on the previous night to twelve on Friday night, and the fathers and mothers will only take a small piece of dry bread and a draught of water during the day. It is a common sight to see along the roads between the different market towns, numbers of women with their hair dishevelled, barefooted, and in their worst garments; all this is in imitation of Christ’spassion.[93]
In Ireland, as a catholic country, excessive attention prevails to the remarkable instances in the passion of Christ, which terminated in the crucifixion; and a revelation from Christ himself, to three nuns canonized by the Romish church, has been devised to heighten the fervour of the ignorant. The Irish journals of 1770, contain the copy of a singular paper said to have been sold to devotees at a high price, viz.
cross
“This revelation was made by the mouth of our Lord Jesus Christ, to those three saints, viz. St. Elizabeth, St. Clare, and St. Bridget, they being desirous to know something in particular of the blessed passion of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.
“First, I received 30 cuffs; 2dly, when I was apprehended in the garden, I received 40 blows: 3dly, I journeying to Annas’s house, got 7 falls: 4thly, they gave me 444 blows of whips upon my shoulders: 5thly, they raised me up from the ground, by the hair of the head, 330 times: 6thly, they gave me 30 blows against my teeth: 7thly, I have breathed 8888 sighs: 8thly, they drew me by my beard 35 times: 9thly, I received one mortal wound at the foot of the cross: 10th, 666 blows they gave me when I was bound to the pillar of stone: 11th, they set a crown of thorns upon my head: 12th, they have spitted at me 63 times: 13th, the soldiers gave me 88 blows of whips: 14th, they gave me gall and vinegar to drink: 15th, when I hanged on the cross I received five mortal wounds.
“All men or women that will say seven paters, seven aves, and a creed daily, in honour of the blessed passion of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, for the space of 15 years, they shall obtain five graces: first, they shall receive plenary indulgence and remission of their sins; 2dly, they will not suffer the pains of purgatory; 3dly, if it happen that they die before 15 years be ended, they shall obtain grace as well as if they had suffered martyrdom; 4thly, in point of death, I will not come myself alone, to receive his own soul, but also his parents, if they be in purgatory; finally, I will convert them into everlasting bliss.
“This revelation hath those virtues, that whosoever shall carry it about him, shall be free from his enemies, neither will he die of any sudden death; and if there be any woman with child, that carry this revelation about her, she shall feel no pain in child-birth; and in whatsoever part of the house this revelation shall lye, it shall not be infected with any contagious diseases, or any other evil: and whosoever shall carry it about him, the glorious virgin Mary will show herself to him 46 days before his death.”