Vol. I.—19.
OFFICE OF LORD HIGH ADMIRAL.
Seal and Autograph of the Lord High Admiral,
Charles Lord Howard of Effingham, 1585.
OFFICE OF LORD HIGH ADMIRAL.
An engraving of the great seal of Charles Lord Howard of Effingham, as high admiral of England, with another, his lordship’s autograph, are presented to the readers of the Table Book from the originals, before the Editor, affixed to a commission in the first year of that nobleman’s high office, granting to sir Edward Hoby, knight, the vice-admiralty of the hundred of Milton, in the county of Kent.[167]
It will be remembered, that the lord Howard of Effingham, afterwards created earl of Nottingham, was the distinguished admiral of the English fleet, which, in conjunction with the winds of heaven, dispersed and destroyed the formidable Spanish armada for the invasion of England in 1588, during the reign of queen Elizabeth. These engraved representations therefore are no mean illustrations to a short account of the office of lord high admiral, which, after having been in commission upwards of a century, is revived in the person of the heir apparent to the throne.
It is commonly said, that we have obtained the term admiral from the French. The first admiral of France, or that ever had been there by title of office, was Enguerrand de Bailleul, lord of Coucy, who was so created by Philip the Hardy in 1284, and under that title appointed to command a fleet for the conquest of Catalonia and other Spanish provinces from Peter of Arragon.
The French are presumed to have gained the term in the crusades a little before this period, under St. Lewis, who instituted the order of “the ship,” an honour of knighthood, to encourage and reward enterprise against the Turks. The collar of this order, at the lower end whereof hung a ship, was interlaced on double chains of gold, with double scallop-shells of gold, and double crescents of silver interwoven, “which figured the sandy shore and port of Aigues-Mortes, and, with the ship, made manifest declaration that this enterprise was to fight with infidel nations, which followed the false law of Mahomet who bare the crescent.”[168] The chief naval commander of the Saracens is said to have been called the admirante, and from him the French are conjectured to have gained their amiral: if they did, it was the only advantage secured to France by the expedition of St. Lewis.[169]
Still, however, whether the French amiral, comes from the Saracen admirante is doubtful; and though the title occurs in French history, before we discover admiral in our own, it is also doubtful whether we derive it from our neighbours. The Saxons had an officer, whom from his duties they called “Aen-Mere-all, that is All upon the sea:”[170] this title therefore of our ancient ancestors may reasonably be presumed to have been the etymon of our admiral.
William de Leybourne was the first Englishman that had the style of admiral. At the assembly at Bruges in 1297, (25 Edward I.) he was styled Admirallus Maris Regis, and soon after the office became tripartite. We subsequently meet with the titles of admiralty of the north and of the west, and in 1387 (10 Richard II.) we find Richard, son of Allan, earl of Arundel and Surry, denominated Admirallus Angliæ: this is the earliest mention of that style.[171]
Charles, lord Howard of Effingham, the illustrious high admiral of Elizabeth, held the office eighteen years under his heroic mistress, and was continued in it fourteen years longer by her successor James I. In 1619 he was succeeded in it by George, marquis (afterwards the first duke) of Buckingham, who held the dignity till 1636, (temp. Car. I.) when it was in commission for a week, and then conferred on Algernon, earl of Northumberland, and afterwards, by the parliament, on Robert, earl of Warwick. He surrendered his commission in 1645, under an ordinance that members should have no employment, and the office was executed by a committee of both houses, of whom the earl was one. In 1649, the commissioners of the admiralty under the Commonwealth were allowed three shillings each per diem.
At the restoration of Charles II. in 1660, his brother James, duke of York, was appointed lord high admiral; but on the passing of the test act in 1673, being a Roman Catholic, he resigned, and the office was put in commission, with prince Rupert as first lord, till 1679. It remained in commission till the end of that reign.
James II. (the duke of York just mentioned) on his accession declared himself, in council, lord high admiral, and lord general of the navy, and during his short reign managed the admiralty affairs by Mr. Secretary Pepys.
Throughout the reign of William III., the admiralty was continued in commission.
Queen Anne, in 1702, appointed her consort, prince George of Denmark, lord high admiral of England; he executed the office under that style, with a council, till 1707, when, on account of the union, he was styled lord high admiral of Great Britain, and so continued with a council as before. He died October 28, 1708, and the queen acted by Mr. Secretary Burchel, till the 29th of November, when her majesty appointed Thomas, earl of Pembroke, lord high admiral of Great Britain, with a fee of 300 marks per annum. In November, 1709, the admiralty was again put in commission, and has been so continued from that time till April 1827, when the duke of Clarence was appointed lord high admiral of Great Britain.
The lord high admiral has the management and controul of all maritime affairs, and the government of the royal navy. He commissions all naval officers, from an admiral to a lieutenant; he takes cognizance and decides on deaths, murders, maims, and all crimes and offences committed on or beyond sea, in all parts of the world, on the coasts, in all ports or havens, and on all rivers to the first bridge from the sea. He appoints deputies for the coasts, coroners for the view of dead bodies found at sea, or on the waters within his jurisdiction, and judges for his court of admiralty. To him belongs all fines and forfeitures arising from the exercise of his office, the goods of pirates, &c. maritime deodands, wrecks, salvage, sea-prize, waifs and strays, porpoises, and other great sea-fishes, called royal fishes, whale and sturgeon only excepted.[172] He is conservator of rivers and public streams, and of all ships and fisheries, with power to reform unlawful nets and engines; and he arrests and seizes ships, impresses mariners, pilots, masters, gunners, bombardiers, and any other persons wheresoever they may be met with, as often as the naval service may require.[173] Formerly, in common with other admirals, he wore a whistle suspended by a gold chain, with which he cheered his men to action, but which has now descended to the boatswain.[174]
The powers of the commission from the lord Howard of Effingham, high admiral of England, to sir Edward Hoby, may further illustrate the nature and extent of this high office. The deed itself is in Latin, fairly engrossed on parchment, with a large and fine illumination, entirely filling the side and bottom margins, representing a branch of white roses tinged with red, entwined with a branch of honeysuckle, the leaves and flowers in fair and proper colours.
This commission empowers “sir Edward Hobbie, knight,” to take cognizance of, and proceed in all civil and maritime causes, contracts, crimes, offences, and other matters, appertaining to the jurisdiction of the English admiralty of the queen in the hundred of Milton in the county of Kent, and the maritime parts thereof, and thereto adjacent, and to hear and determine the same: And to inquire by the oath of good and loyal men of the said hundred of all traitors, pirates, homicides, and felons, and of all suicides, and questionable deaths and casualties within such admiralty jurisdiction, and of their estates, and concerning whatever appertains to the office of the lord high admiral in the said hundred. And of and concerning the anchorage and shores and the royal fishes, viz. sturgeons, whales, shellfish, (cetis,) porpoises, dolphins, rigge and grampuses, and generally of all other fishes whatsoever, great and small, belonging to the queen in her office of chief admiralty of England: And to obtain and receive all pecuniary penalties in respect of crimes and offences belonging to such jurisdiction within the said hundred, and to decide on all such matters: And to proceed against all offenders according to the statutes of the queen and her kingdom, and according to the admiralty power of mulcting, correcting, punishing, castigating, reforming, and imprisoning within the said hundred or its jurisdiction: And to inquire concerning nets of too small mesh, and other contrivances, or illicit instruments, for the taking of fish: And concerning the bodies of persons wrecked and drowned in the waters of the hundred: And concerning the keeping and preservation of the statutes of the queen and her kingdom in the maritime parts of the said hundred: And concerning the wreck of the sea: And to exercise the office of coroner, according to the statutes in the third and fourth years of Edward the First: And to proceed according to the statutes concerning the damage of goods upon the sea in the 27th year of Edward III.: “And you the aforesaid sir Hobbie, our vice-admiral, commissary, and deputy in the office of vice-admiralty, in and over the aforesaid hundred of Milton, we appoint, recommending to you and your locum tenens firmness in the execution of your duty, and requiring you yearly in Easter and Michaelmas term to account to the Court of Admiralty your proceedings in the premises.”—— “Given at Greenwich under our great seal the twelfth day of the month of July in the year of our Lord from the incarnation one thousand five hundred and eighty-five, and in the twenty-seventh year of the reign of our most serene lady Elizabeth by the grace of God queen of England, France, and Ireland, defender of the faith, &c.”
The “great seal” above mentioned is the great seal of the admiralty, engraved on a preceding page, and as there represented, of the exact size of the seal appended to the commission.
[167] For the loan of this document, the editor is indebted to his valuable and valued correspondent J. J. K.
[168] Favine, b. iii. c 4.
[169] “This good prince being dead of a dysentry at the camp of Carthage in Africa, the fifth day of August One thousand two hundred threescore and ten, his body was boiled in wine and water, until that the flesh was neatly divided from the bones. His flesh and entrails were given to the king of Sicily, monsieur Charles of France, brother to the king, who caused them to be interred in the monastery of Mont Reall, of the order of St. Benedict, near to the city of Palermo in Sicily. But the bones, wrapped up worthily in seare cloth and silks, excellently embalmed with most precious perfumes, were carried to St. Denis in France: and with them those of his son, monsieur John of France, count of Nevers, dying in the camp and of the same disease.” Favine.
[170] Maitland, Cok. Just. p. i.
[171] Godolphin’s Admiralty Jurisdiction, 1746.
[172] Beatson.
[173] Cowel, &c.
[174] Fosbroke’s Ency. of Antiquities.
Milton Hundred, Kent.
Through a different source than that, whence the commission just set forth came to hand, the Editor has now before him various original papers formerly belonging to sir Edward Hoby, concerning his private and public concerns. The two following relate to the hundred of Milton.
I.
Articles of the Queene’s Majestie Lands belonging to the Mannor of Milton with ther yearly values as they wilbe letten, and of the other benefitts belonging to the same mannor, which are now letten by her Majestie in farme.
| Acres. | Value. | |||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Earable Lands | 276 | 13s. | 4d. | 184li. | ||||
| Meadowe Lands | 39 | 20s. | - | 39li. | ||||
| Mershe Lands | 12 | 20s. | - | 12li. | ||||
| Pasture Lands | 80 | 15s. | - | 60li. | ||||
| (Shent?) Lands | 34 | 6s. | 8d. | 11li. | 6s. | 8d. | ||
| Towne meade | 25 | 5s. | - | 6li. | 5s. | |||
| 466 | 331li. | 0s. | 8d. | |||||
| Rents of Assise | 115li. | 1s. | 10d. | |||||
| The Myll | 12li. | |||||||
| Faires and Marketts | 10li. | |||||||
| Relieves and Alienac’ons | 4li. | |||||||
| Fines and Amercements | 6li. | 13s. | 4d. | |||||
| Wastes Strayes Fellons | - | 13li. | 6s. | 8d. | ||||
| Goods and Wrack of Sea | ||||||||
| 161li. | 1s. | 10d. | ||||||
| 492li. | 2s. | 6d. | ||||||
Articles of the Queene’s Majestie Lands and other benefitts belonging to the Hundred of Marden now less letten in farme.
| Acres. | Value. | ||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Queene’s Lands | 9 | 8s. | 3li. | 12s. | |||
| Rents of Assise | 14li. | 9s. | 5d. | ||||
| Wastes Straies and Fellons goods | 3li. | 6s. | 8d. | ||||
| 21li. | 8s. | 1d. | |||||
| S’m Tot. of the proffitte of bothe the mannors |
- | 513li. | 10s. | 7d. | |||
| It is oversom’ed viij p. ann. | |||||||
II.
Sir Edward Hoby for a Lease of the custodie of Milton and Marden.
The Queene’s Ma’tie by warrant of the late Lord Treasourer the sixt daye of July, in the xiijth Yeare of her Raigne, did graunt Custodia of the Mannor of Milton, and the Hundred of Milton, and Marden, &c. vnto Thomas Randolphe for Threescore years, yieldinge 120li. yearly rent and vjs. viijd increase of the rent. Prouiso semper q’d si aliquis alius plus dare voluerit de incr’o per Annum pro Custod. predict sine fraude vel malo ingenio Quod tunc idem Thomas Randolphe tantum pro eadem soluere teneatur si Custod. voluerit her’e sup’dict.
The Lease is by meane conveyance colorably sett over vnto one Thomas Bodley, but the interest is in one Richard Potman, Attorney towards the Lawe.
Sr Edward Hoby knight the xxvjth of Maye xlmo Regine nunc, before the nowe Lord Treasourer and the Barons of the Exchequer did personally cum, and in wrytinge under his hande, Offer, sine fraude vel malo ingenio, to increase the Queene’s rent 100li. yearly, which sayd Offer was accepted and attested, with Mr. Baron Clarke’s hande redy to be inrolled.
Whereupon the sayd Sr Edward Hoby doth humbly praye that Yor Lo’pp wilbe pleased to gyve warrant for the inrowlinge thereof accordingely, and that a scire facias maye presently be awarded agaynst the Leasee, to shewe cause whye the former Pattent shoulde not be repealed, and the custody aforesayd graunted to the sayd Sr Edward Hoby.
Note.
The lyke tender was heretofore made xxxijdo Regine Elizabeth by Richard Varney Esquyer, agaynst Gregory Wolmer Esquyer, for the Mannor of Torrington Magna: beinge in extent to her Ma’tie for the dett of Phillipp Basset, and leased with the like Prouiso, and thereby obteyned a newe Lease from her Ma’tie.
The preceding documents are so far interesting, as they connect sir Edward Hoby with the hundred of Milton and Maiden, beyond his public office of vice admiral of the former place, and show the underletting of the crown lands in the reign of Elizabeth, with something of the means employed at that time to obtain grants.
Garrick Plays.
No. XVI.
[From “Tottenham Court,” a Comedy, by Thomas Nabbs, 1638.]
Lovers Pursued.
Worthgood, Bellamie, as travelling together before daylight.
Press down thy soul: the darkness but presents
Shadows of fear; which should secure us best
From danger of pursuit.
Bell. Would it were day!
My apprehension is so full of horror;
I think each sound, the air’s light motion
Makes in these thickets, is my Uncle’s voice,
Threat’ning our ruins.
Worth. Let his rage persist
To enterprise a vengeance, we’ll prevent it.
Wrapt in the arms of Night, that favours Lovers,
We hitherto have ’scaped his eager search;
And are arrived near London. Sure I hear
The Bridge’s cataracts, and such-like murmurs
As night and sleep yield from a populous number.
Bell. But when will it be day? the light hath comfort:
Our first of useful senses being lost,
The rest are less delighted.
Worth. Th’ early Cock
Hath sung his summons to the day’s approach:
Twill instantly appear. Why startled, Bellamie?
Bell. Did no amazing sounds arrive thy ear;
Pray, listen.
Worth. Come, come; ’tis thy fear suggests
Illusive fancies. Under Love’s protection
We may presume of safety.
(Within.) Follow, follow, follow.
Bell. Aye me, ’tis sure my Uncle; dear Love Worthgood?
Worth. Astonishment hath seiz’d my faculties.
My Love, my Bellamie, ha!
Bell. Dost thou forsake me, Worthgood?
(Exit, as losing him.)
Worth. Where’s my Love?
Dart from thy silver crescent one fair beam
Through this black air, thou Governess of Night,
To shew me whither she is led by fear.
Thou envious Darkness, to assist us here,
And then prove fatal!
(Within.) Follow, follow, follow.
Worth. Silence your noise, ye clamorous ministers
Of this injustice. Bellamie is lost;
She’s lost to me. Not her fierce Uncle’s rage,
Who whets your eager aptness to pursue me
With threats or promises; nor his painted terrors
Of laws’ severity; could ever work
Upon the temper of my resolute soul
To soften it to fear, till she was lost.
Not all the illusive horrors, which the night
Presents unto th’ imagination,
T’ affright a guilty conscience, could possess me,
While I possess’d my Love. The dismal shrieks
Of fatal owls, and groans of dying mandrakes,
Whilst her soft palm warm’d mine, were music to me.—
Their light appears.—No safety does consist
In passion or complaints. Night, let thine arms
Again assist me; and, if no kind minister
Of better fate guide me to Bellamie,
Be thou eternal.
(Within.) Follow, follow, follow.
Bellamie, alone, in Marybone Park.
As if affrighted with this night’s disaster,
Steals thro the farthest air, and by degrees
Salutes my weary longings.—O, my Worthgood,
Thy presence would have checkt these passions;
And shot delight thro’ all the mists of sadness,
To guide my fear safe thro’ the paths of danger:
Now fears assault me.—’Tis a woman’s voice.
She sings; and in her music’s chearfulness
Seems to express the freedom of a heart,
Not chain’d to any passions.
Song, within.
When over the flowery meads
She dabbles in the dew,
And sings to her cow;
And feels not the pain
Of Love or Disdain.
She sleeps in the night, tho’ she toils in the day
And merrily passeth her time away.
For such a shape of quiet!
[From the “Duchess of Suffolk,” an Historical Play, by T. Heywood, 1631.]
A Tragic Pursuit.
The Duchess, with her little child, preparing to escape by night from the relentless persecution of the Romanists.
Farewell;—come life or death, I’ll hug my treasure.
Nay, chide not, pretty babe; our enemies come:
Thy crying will pronounce thy mother’s doom.
Be thou but still;
This gate may shade us from their envious will.
(Exit.)
(A noise of Pursuers. She re-enters.)
Direct me in this plunge of misery.
Nature has taught the Child obedience;
Thou hast been humble to thy mother’s wish.
O let me kiss these duteous lips of thine,
That would not kill thy mother with a cry.
Now forward, whither heav’n directs; for I
Can guide no better than thine infancy.
Here are two Pilgrims bound for Lyon Quay,[175]
And neither knows one footstep of the way.
The eager pursuit of our enemies,
Having for guidance my attentive fear.
Still I look back, still start my tired feet,
Which never till now measured London street:
My Honours scorn’d that custom; they would ride;
Now forced to walk, more weary pain to bide.
Thou shalt not do so, child; I’ll carry thee
In Sorrow’s arms to welcome misery.
Custom must steel thy youth with pinching want,
That thy great birth in age may bear with scant
Sleep peaceably, sweet duck, and make no noise:
Methinks each step is death’s arresting voice.
We shall meet nurse anon; a dug will come,
To please my quiet infant: when, nurse, when?
The Duchess, persecuted from place to place, with Berty, her Husband, takes comfort from her Baby’s smiles.
And I, that whilom was exceeding weak
Through my hard travail in this infant’s birth,
Am now grown strong upon necessity,
How forwards are we towards Windham Castle?
Berty. Just half our way: but we have lost our friends,
Thro’ the hot pursuit of our enemies.
Duch. We are not utterly devoid of friends;
Behold, the young Lord Willoughby smiles on us:
And ’tis great help to have a Lord our friend.
C. L.
[175] From which place she hopes to embark for Flanders.
Theatrical Customs.
PLAY-BILLS.
To the Editor.
Sir,—Conjecturing that some slight notices of the early use of play-bills by our comedians might be interesting to your readers, allow me respectfully to request the insertion of the following:—
So early as 1587, there is an entry in the Stationers’ books of a license granted to John Charlewood, in the month of October, “by the whole consent of the assistants, for the onlye ymprinting of all maner of bills for players. Provided that if any trouble arise herebye, then Charlewoode to bear the charges.” Ames, in his Typogr. Antiq., p. 342, referring to a somewhat later date, states, that James Roberts, who printed in quarto several of the dramas written by the immortal Shakspeare, also “printed bills for the players;” the license of the Stationers’ Company had then probably devolved to him. The announcements of the evening’s or rather afternoon’s entertainment was not circulated by the medium of a diurnal newspaper, as at present, but broadsides were pasted up at the corners of the streets to attract the passerby. The puritanical author of a “Treatise against Idleness, Vaine-playes, and Interludes,” printed in black letter, without date, but possibly anterior to 1587, proffers an admirable illustration of the practice.—“They use,” says he, in his tirade against the players, “to set up their bills upon postes some certain dayes before, to admonish the people to make resort to their theatres, that they may thereby be the better furnished, and the people prepared to fill their purses with their treasures.” The whimsical John Taylor, the water-poet, under the head of Wit and Mirth, also alludes to the custom.—“Master Nat. Field, the player, riding up Fleet-street at a great pace, a gentleman called him, and asked what play was played that day. He being angry to be stay’d on so frivolous a demand, answered, that he might see what play was plaied on every poste. I cry your mercy, said the gentleman, I took you for a poste, you rode so fast.”
It may naturally be inferred, that the emoluments of itinerant players could not afford the convenience of a printed bill, and hence from necessity arose the practice of announcing the play by beat of drum. Will. Slye, who attended Kempe in the provincial enactment of his “Nine Men of Gotham,” is figured with a drum. Parolles, in Shakspeare’s “All’s Well that ends Well,” alludes to this occupation of some of Will. Slye’s fellows, “Faith, sir, he has led the drum before the English comedians.”
The long detailed titles of some of the early quarto plays induce a supposition, that the play-bills which introduced them to public notice were similarly extended. The “pleasant conceited Comedy,” and “the Bloody Tragedy,” were equally calculated to attract idling gazers on the bookstalls, or the “walks at St. Paul’s,” and to draw gaping crowds about some vociferous Autolycus, who was probably an underling belonging to the company, or a servant to one of the players; for, as they ranked as gentlemen, each forsooth had his man. A carping satirical writer, who wrote anonymously “Notes from Blackfriers,” 1617, presents some traces of a play-bill crier of that period.
The first I visited this twelvemonth day.
They say—‘A new invented boy of purle,
That jeoparded his neck to steale a girl
Of twelve, and lying fast impounded for’t,
Has hither sent his bearde to act his part,
Against all those in open malice bent,
That would not freely to the theft consent:
Faines all to ’s wish, and in the epilogue
Goes out applauded for a famous—rogue.’
—Now hang me if I did not look at first,
For some such stuff, by the fond-people’s thrust.”
In 1642, the players, who till the subversion of the kingly prerogative in the preceding year, basked in the sunshine of court favour, and publicly acknowledged the patronage of royalty, provoked, by their loyalty, the vengeance of the stern unyielding men in power. The lords and commons, assembled on the second day of September in the former year, suppressed stage plays, during these calamitous times, by the following
Ordinance.
“Whereas the distressed estate of Ireland, steeped in her own blood, and the distracted estate of England, threatened with a cloud of blood, by a Civill Warre; call for all possible meanes to appease and avert the wrath of God, appearing in these judgments; amongst which, fasting and prayer having been often tried to be very effectuall, have bin lately, and are still enjoyned: And whereas public sports doe not well agree with public calamities, nor publike Stage Playes with the seasons of humiliation, this being an exercise of sad and pious solemnity, and the other spectacles of pleasure, too commonly expressing lascivious mirth and levitie: It is therefore thought fit, and ordeined by the Lords and Commons in this Parliament assembled, that while these sad causes, and set times of humiliation doe continue, publike Stage Playes shall cease, and bee forborne. Instead of which, are recommended to the people of this land, the profitable and seasonable considerations of repentance, reconciliation, and peace with God, which probably may produce outward peace and prosperity, and bring againe times of joy and gladnesse to these nations.”
The tenour of this ordinance was strictly enforced; many young and vigorous actors joined the king’s army, in which for the most part they obtained commissions, and others retired on the scanty pittances they had earned, till on the restoration, the theatre burst forth with new effulgence. The play-bill that announced the opening of the new theatre, in Drury-lane, April 8, 1663, has been already printed in the Every-Day Book. The actors’ names were then, for the first time, affixed to the characters they represented; and, to evince their loyalty, “Vivat Rex et Regina,” was appended at the foot of the bills, as it continues to this day.
In the reign of the licentious Charles II., wherein monopolies of all kinds were granted to court favourites, licenses were obtained for the sole printing of play-bills. There is evidence in Bagford’s Collections, Harl. MSS. No. 5910, vol. ii., that in August, 1663, Roger L’Estrange, as surveyor of the imprimery and printing presses, had the “sole license and grant of printing and publishing all ballads, plays, &c. not previously printed, play-bills, &c.” These privileges he sold to operative printers. When that license ceased, I have yet to learn.
The play-bills at Bartholomew-fair were in form the same as those used at the regular theatres; but, as they were given among the populace, they were only half the size. One that Dogget published recently, in my possession, had W. R. in the upper corners, as those printed in the reign of Charles II., had C. R., the royal arms being in the centre.
The luxurious mode of printing in alternate black and red lines, was adopted in Cibber’s time; the bills of Covent-garden theatre were generally printed in that manner. The bills of Drury-lane theatre, within the last ten years, have issued from a private press, set up in a room below the stage of that theatre. The bills for the royal box, on his majesty’s visit to either theatre, are printed on white satin.
Connected with these notices of playbills, are the means by which they were dispersed. A century ago, they were sold in the theatres by young women, called “orange-girls,” some of whom, Sally Harris and others, obtained considerable celebrity; these were succeeded by others, who neither coveted nor obtained notoriety. The “orange-girls” have gone out, and staid married women, who pay a weekly stipend to the box-lobby fruit-woman, now vend play-bills in the theatre, but derive most of their emolument from the sale of the “book of the play,” or “the songs” of the evening. The old cry about the streets, “Choice fruit, and a bill of the play—Drury-lane or Covent-garden,” is almost extinct; the barrow-women are obliged to obtain special permission to remain opposite some friendly shopkeeper’s door; and the play-bills are chiefly hawked by little beggarly boys.
I am, sir, &c.
Will o’ the Wisp.
March, 1827.
THE LINNET FANCY.
To the Editor of the Table Book.
For they amuse me in my moody hours:
Their voices waft my soul into the woods:
Where bends th’ enamour’d willow o’er the stream,
They make sweet melody.
Of all the earthly things by which the brain of man is twisted and twirled, heated and cooled, fancy is the most powerful. Like a froward wife, she invariably leads him by the nose, and almost every man is in some degree ruled by her. One fancies a horse, another an ass—one a dog, another a rabbit—one’s delight is in dress, another’s in negligence—one is a lover of flowers, another of insects—one’s mind runs on a pigeon, another’s on a hawk—one fancies himself sick, the doctor fancies he can cure him: death—that stern reality—settles the matter, by fancying both. One, because he has a little of this life’s evil assail him, fancies himself miserable, another, as ragged as a colt, fancies himself happy. One, as ugly as sin, and as hideous as death, fancies himself handsome—another, a little higher than six-penn’orth of halfpence, fancies himself a second Saul. In short, it would take a monthly part of the Table Book to enumerate the different vagaries of fancy—so multifarious are her forms. Leaving this, proceed we to one of the fancies which amuse and divert the mind of man in his leisure and lonely hours—the “Linnet Fancy.”
“Linnet fancy!” I think I hear some taker-up of the Table Book say, “What’s in a linnet?—rubbish—
May be had for a groat.”
Music! I answer—melody, unrivalled melody—equal to Philomel’s, that ever she-bird of the poets.—I wish they would call things by their proper names; for, after all, it is a cock—hens never make harmonious sounds. The fancy is possessed but by a few, and those, generally, of the “lower orders”—the weavers and cobblers of Whitechapel and Spitalfields, for instance. A good bird has been known to fetch ten sovereigns. I have frequently seen three and four given for one.
Whence the song of the linnet was obtained I cannot tell; but, from what I have heard the tit-lark and sky-lark do, I incline to believe that a good deal of theirs is in the song of the linnet. This song consists of a number of jerks, as they are called, some of which a bird will dwell on, and time with the most beautiful exactness: this is termed a “weighed bird.” Others rattle through it in a hurried manner, and take to what is termed battling; these are birds often “sung” against others. It is with them as in a party where many are inclined to sing, the loudest and quickest tires them out; or, as the phrase is, “knocks them down.” These jerks are as under. Old fanciers remember more, and regret the spoliation and loss of the good old strain. I have heard some of them say, that even larks are not so good as they were forty years ago. The reader must not suppose that the jerks are warbled in the apple-pie order in which he sees them here: the birds put them forth as they please: good birds always finish them.