The “Star” in war time was the constant scene of naval and military orgies, and therefore rather repelled than courted other visitants. It is now a respectable inn and a stage for the refreshment of coach travellers. During a hasty trip to Canterbury a short time ago, Mr. Samuel Williams stopped there long enough to select its sign, and the character of the view beyond it, as “a bit” for his pencil, which I, in turn, seized on, and he has engraved it as a decoration for the Table Book.
My readers were instructed at the outset of the work that, if they allowed me to please myself, we might all be pleased in turn. If I am sometimes not their most faithful, I am never otherwise than their most sincere servant; and therefore I add that I am not always gratified by what gratifies generally, and I have, in this instance, presented a small matter of my particular liking. I would have done better if I could. There are times when my mind foils and breaks down suddenly—when I can no more think or write than a cripple can run: at other times it carries me off from what I ought to do, and sets me to something the very negative to what I wish. I then become, as it were, possessed; an untamable spirit has its will of me in spite of myself:—what I have omitted, or done, in the present instance, illustrates the fact.
*
[181] Owing to adverse winds, his majesty could not get farther than the Hope.
For the Table Book.
Dear Sir,—In my wanderings through the metropolis at this season, I observe an agreeable and refreshing novelty, an ingenious contrivance to make mustard and cress seeds grow in pleasant forms over vessels and basketwork, covered on their exterior with wet flannel, wherein the seeds are deposited, and take root and grow, to adorn the table or recess. The most curious which struck me, consisted of a “hedgehog”—a doll’s head looking out of its vernally-growing clothes—a “Jack in the green”—a Dutch cheese in “a bower”—“Paul Pry”—and “Pompey’s pillar.”
If greengrocers proceed in these devices, their ingenuity may suggest a rivalry of signs of a more lasting nature, suitable to the shop windows of other tradesmen.
Yours, truly,
J. R.
April 30, 1827.
[From the “Parliament of Bees;” further Extracts.]
Oberon. Flora, a Bee.
Oberon holds a Court, in which he sentences the Wasp, the Drone, and the Humble-bee, for divers offences against the Commonwealth of Bees.
Oberon. Prorex, his Viceroy; and other Bees.
Oberon then confirms Prorex in his Government; and breaks up Session.
[From “David and Bethsabe,” a Sacred Drama, by George Peel, 1599.]
Nathan. David.
C. L.
[182] The hum of Bees.
For the Table Book.
Doomsday Book, one of the most ancient records of England, is the register from which judgment was to be given upon the value, tenure, and services of lands therein described.
Other names by which it appears to have been known were Rotulus Wintoniæ, Scriptura Thesauri Regis, Liber de Wintonia, and Liber Regis. Sir Henry Spelman adds, Liber Judiciarius, Censualis Angliæ, Angliæ Notitia et Lustratio, and Rotulus Regis.
The exact time of the Conqueror’s undertaking the Survey, is differently stated by historians. The Red Book of the Exchequer seems to have been erroneously quoted, as fixing the time of entrance upon it in 1080; it being merely stated in that record, that the work was undertaken at a time subsequent to the total reduction of the island to William’s authority. It is evident that it was finished in 1086. Matthew Paris, Robert of Gloucester, the Annals of Waverley, and the Chronicle of Bermondsey, give the year 1083, as the date of the record; Henry of Huntingdon, in 1084; the Saxon Chronicle in 1085; Bromton, Simeon of Durham, Florence of Worcester, the Chronicle of Mailros, Roger Hovedon, Wilkes, and Hanningford, in 1086; and the Ypodigma Neustriæ and Diceto in 1087.
The person and property of Odo, bishop of Bayeux, are said to have been seized by the Conqueror in 1082.
Ingulphus affirms, that the Survey was made in imitation of the policy of Alfred, who, at the time he divided the kingdom into counties, hundreds, and tithings, had an Inquisition taken and digested into a Register, which was called, from the place in which it was reposited, the Roll of Winchester. The formation of such a Survey, however, in the time of Alfred, may be fairly doubted, as we have only a solitary authority for its existence. The separation of counties also is known to have been a division long anterior to the time of Alfred. Bishop Kennet tells us, that Alfred’s Register had the name of Domeboc, from which the name of Doomsday Book was only a corruption.
Dom-boc is noticed in the laws of Edward the elder, and more particularly in those of Æthelstan, as the code of Saxon laws.
For the adjusting of this Survey, certain commissioners, called the king’s justiciaries, were appointed inquisitors: it appears, upon the oaths of the sheriffs, the lords of each manor, the presbyters of every church, the reeves of every hundred, the bailiffs, and six villans of every village, were to inquire into the name of the place, who held it in the time of Edward (the Confessor,) who was the present possessor, how many hides in the manor, how many carrucates in demesne, how many homagers, how many villans, how many cotarii, how many servi, what freemen, how many tenants in socage, what quantity of wood, how many meadows and pasture, what mills and fish-ponds, how much added or taken away, what the gross value in king Edward’s time, what the present value, and how much each free-man or soch-man had or has. All this was to be triply estimated; first, as the estate was in the time of the Confessor; then, as it was bestowed by king William; and, thirdly, as its value stood at the formation of the Survey. The jurors were, moreover, to state whether any advance could be made in the value. The writer of the Saxon Chronicle, with some degree of asperity, informs us, that not a hyde or yardland, not an ox, cow, or hog, were omitted in the census.
(1.) After the bishops and abbats, the highest persons in rank were the Norman barons.
(2.) Taini, tegni, teigni, teini, or teinni, are next to be mentioned, because those of the highest class were in fact nobility, or barons of the Saxon times. Archbishops, bishops, and abbats, as well as the great barons, are also called thanes.
(3.) Vavassores, in dignity, were next to the barons, and higher thanes. Selden says, they either held of a mesne lord, and not immediately of the king, or at least of the king as of an honour or manor and not in chief. The grantees, says sir Henry Spelman, that received their estates from the barons or capitanei, and not from the king, were called valvasores, (a degree above knights.)
(4.) The aloarii, alodarii, or alodiarii, tenants in allodium, (a free estate “possessio libera.”) The dinges mentioned, tom i. fol. 298, are supposed to have been persons of the same description.
(5.) Milites. The term miles appears not to have acquired a precise meaning at the time of the Survey, sometimes implying a soldier, or mere military servant, and sometimes a person of higher distinction.
(6.) Liberi Homines appears to have been a term of considerable latitude; signifying not merely the freeman, or freeholders of a manor, but occasionally including all the ranks of society already mentioned, and indeed all persons holding in military tenure. “The ordinary freemen, before the conquest,” says Kelham, “and at the time of compiling Doomsday, were under the protection of great men; but what their quality was, further than that their persons and blood were free, that is, that they were not nativi, or bondmen, it will give a knowing man trouble to discover to us.” These freemen are called in the Survey liberi homines comendati. They appear to have placed themselves, by voluntary homage, under this protection: their lord or patron undertook to secure their estates and persons, and for this protection and security they paid to him an annual stipend, or performed some annual service. Some appear to have sought a patron or protector, for the sake of obtaining their freedom only; such the liberi homines comendatione tantum may be interpreted. According to the laws of the Conqueror, a quiet residence of a year and a day, upon the king’s demesne lands, would enfranchise a villan who had fled from his lord. “Item si servi permanserint sine calumnia per annum et diem in civitatibus nostris vel burgis in muro vallatis, vel in castris nostris, a die illa liberi afficiuntur et liberi a jugo servitutis suæ sunt in perpetuum.” The commendati dimidii were persons who depended upon two protectors, and paid half to one and half to the other. Sub commendati were under the command of those who were themselves depending upon some superior lord. Sub commendati dimidii were those who were under the commendati dimidii, and had two patrons or protectors, and the same as they had. Liberi homines integri were those who were under the full protection of one lord, in contradistinction to the liberi homines dimidii. Commendatio sometimes signified the annual rent paid for the protection. Liberi homines ad nullam firmam pertinentes were those who held their lands independent of any lord. Of others it is said, “qui remanent in manu regis.” In a few entries of the Survey, we have liberæ feminæ, and one or two of liberæ feminæ commendatæ.
(7.) Sochmanni, or socmens, were those inferior landowners who had lands in the soc or franchise of a great baron; privileged villans, who, though their tenures were absolutely copyhold, yet had an interest equal to a freehold.
(8.) Of this description of tenantry also were the rachenistres, or radchenistres, who appear likewise to have been called radmanni, or radmans. It appears that some of the radchenistres, like the sochmen, were less free than others. Dr. Nash conjectured that the radmanni and radchenistres were probably a kind of freemen who served on horseback. Rad-cnihꞇ is usually interpreted by our glossarists equestris homo sive miles, and Raðheꞃe equestris exercitus.
(9.) Villani. The clearest notion of the tenure of villani is probably to be obtained from sir W. Blackstone’s Commentaries. “With regard to folk-land,” says he, “or estates held in villenage, this was a species of tenure neither strictly Feodal, Norman, nor Saxon, but mixed or compounded of them all; and which also, on account of the heriots that usually attend it, may seem to have somewhat Danish in its composition. Under the Saxon government, there were, as sir William Temple speaks, a sort of people in a condition of downright servitude, used and employed in the most servile works, and belonging, both they and their children, and their effects, to the lord of the soil, like the rest of the cattle or stock upon it. These seem to have been those who held what was called the folk-land, from which they were removable at the lord’s pleasure. On the arrival of the Normans here, it seems not improbable that they, who were strangers to any other than a feodal state, might give some sparks of enfranchisement to such wretched persons as fell to their share, by admitting them, as well as others, to the oath of fealty, which conferred a right of protection, and raised the tenant to a kind of estate superior to downright slavery, but inferior to every other condition. This they called villenage, and the tenants villeins; either from the word vilis, or else, as sir Edward Coke tells us, a villa; because they lived chiefly in villages, and were employed in rustic works of the most sordid kind. They could not leave their lord without his permission; but if they ran away, or were purloined from him, might be claimed and recovered by action, like beasts or other chatels. The villeins could acquire no property either in lands or goods; but if he purchased either, the lord might enter upon them, oust the villein, and seize them to his own use, unless he contrived to dispose of them before the lord had seized them; for the lord had then lost his opportunity. The law however protected the persons of villeins, as king’s subjects, against atrocious injuries of the lord.”
(10.) Bordarii of the Survey appear at various times to have received a great variety of interpretations. Lord Coke calls them “boors, holding a little house, with some land of husbandry, bigger than a cottage.” Some have considered them as cottagers, taking their name from living on the borders of a village or manor; but this is sufficiently refuted by Doomsday itself, where we find them not only mentioned generally among the agricultural occupiers of land, but in one instance as “circa aulam manentes,” dwelling near the manor-house; and even residing in some of the larger towns. Boꞃð, bishop Kennett notices, was a cottage. The cos-cets, corcez, cozets, or cozez, were apparently the same as the cottarii and cotmanni; cottagers who paid a certain rent for very small parcels of land.
(11.) Bures, buri, or burs, are noticed in the first volume of Doomsday itself, as synonymous with coliberti. The name of coliberti was unquestionably derived from the Roman civil law. They are described by lord Coke as tenants in free socage by free rent. Cowel says, they were certainly a middle sort of tenants, between servile and free, or such as held their freedom of tenure under condition of such works and services, and were therefore the same landholders whom we meet with (in aftertimes) under the name of conditionales.
Such are the different descriptions of tenantry, and their rights more particularly noticed in Doomesday.
(12.) Servi. It is observed by bishop Kennett, and by Morant after him, in his History of Essex, that the servi and villani are, all along in Doomsday, divided from each other; but that no author has fixed the exact distinction between them. The servi, bishop Kennett adds, might be the pure villanes, and villanes in gross, who, without any determined tenure of land, were, at the arbitrary pleasure of the lord, appointed to servile works, and received their wages and maintenance at the discretion of the lord. The other were of a superior degree, and were called villani, because they were villæ or glebæ adscripti, i. e. held some cottage and lands, for which they were burthened with such stated servile works as their lords had annexed to them. The Saxon name for servus was Eꞅne. The ancillæ of the Survey were females, under circumstances nearly similar to the servi. These were disposed of in the same way, at the pleasure of the lord. The laws, however, protected their chastity; they could not be violated with impunity, even by their owners.
(13.) Censarii, censores, or censorii, were also among the occupiers of land. They appear to have been free persons, censum reddentes.
(14.) Porcarii. Although in one or two instances in Doomsday Survey mere swine-herds seem to have been intended by Porcarii, yet in the generality of entries in which they are mentioned, they appear in the rank of free occupiers, who rented the privilege of feeding pigs in the woodlands, some for money, and some for payments in kind.
(15.) The homines, who are so frequently mentioned, included all sorts of feudatory tenants. They claimed a privilege of having their causes and persons tried only in the court of their lord, to whom they owed the duty of submission, and professed dependance.
(16.) Angli and Anglici occur frequently in the Survey among the under tenants, holding in different capacities.
(17.) Among the offices attached to names, we find accipitrarii or ancipitrarii, arbalistarii or balistarii arcarii biga, camerarii campo, constabularius, cubicularius, dapifer, dispensator, equarius, forestarii huscarli ingeniator, interpres, lagemanni, Latinarius, legatus liberatores marescal, or marescalcus medici, monitor, pincerna recter navis regis, scutularius, stalre, stirman or stiremannus regis, thesaurarius and venatores of a higher description.
(18.) Offices of an inferior description, and trades, are aurifabri, carpentarii, cemetarii, cervisiarii, coci, coqui, or koci, fabri, ferrarii, figuli fossarii, fossator, granetarius, hostarius, inguardi, joculator regis, joculatrix, lanatores, loricati, lorimarius, loripes, mercatores, missatici, monetarii, parcher, parm’t piscatores, pistores, portarius potarii, or poters, prebendarii prefecti, prepositi salinarii servientes, sutores, tonsor, and vigilantes homines. Among ecclesiastical offices, we have Capicerius, Æcel. Winton the sacrist, and Matricularias, Æcel. S. Johannis Cestriæ. Buzecarts were mariners. Hospites, occupiers of houses.
Among the assistants in husbandry, we find apium custos, avantes homines, berquarii bovarii caprarum mediator daia granatarius mellitarii, mercennarius, porcarii, and vacarius.
S. R. F.
For the Table Book.
The manor of Bilsington inferior was held in grand sergeantry in the reign of Edward III. by the service of presenting three maple cups at the king’s coronation and, at the time of the coronation of Charles II., by the additional service of carrying the last dish of the second course to the king’s table. The former service was performed by Thomas Rider, who was knighted (Mos pro Lege) by his late majesty George III., when the king, on receiving the maple cups from the lord of the manor, turned to the mayor of Oxford, who stood at his right hand, and, having received from him for his tenure of that city a gold cup and cover, gave him these three cups in return.
When the admiral was attacking Porto Bello, with his six ships only, as is described on the medal struck on the occasion, he observed a fine young man in appearance, who, with the most intrepid courage, attended with the most perfect calmness, was always in that part of the ship which was most engaged. After the firing had ceased, he sent his captain to request he would attend upon him, which he immediately obeyed; and the admiral entering into conversation, discovered by his answers and observations that he possessed more abilities than usually fall to the lot of mankind in general. Upon his asking his name, the young man told him it was George Washington; and the admiral, on his return home, strongly recommended him to the attention of the admiralty. This great man, when he built his house in America, out of gratitude to his first benefactor, named it “Mount Vernon,” and at this moment it is called so.
Mr. Joshua Brookes, the eminent anatomist, gave a lecture on Wednesday evening, the 25th of April, 1827, at the house of the Zoological Society, in Bruton-street, on the body of an ostrich which his majesty had presented to the society. The lecture was attended by lord Auckland, lord Stanley, Dr. Birkbeck, and several other noblemen and gentlemen distinguished for their devotion to the interests of science. The ostrich, which was a female, and had been presented to his majesty about two years before by colonel Denham, had been kept at Windsor, and had died about three weeks previous to the lecture, of obesity, a disease which frequently shortens the lives of wild animals of every species, when attempts are made to domesticate them.
Mr. Brookes commenced by observing, that when he retired from the practice of anatomy, he did not expect to appear again before the public; but, as the noble directors of the society had honoured him by considering that his services might be of some use in forwarding that most interesting science zoology, he had only to remark that he felt great pride in adding his mite of information to the mass with which the society was furnished from other sources. The period had arrived, when the science of natural history bad fair to reach a height in this country, which would enable us to rival the establishments founded for its promotion abroad. The founder of the study of zoology in England was the great John Hunter; and he was followed by individuals well known to the scientific world, in Edinburgh, Gottingen, and Amsterdam. In the latter city, the science of zoology was pursued with great success by professor Camper, who, when he was in London, invited him (Mr. Brookes) and a professional friend to breakfast, and treated them with bones, consisting of the teeth of rats, mice, and deer, served up in dishes made out of the rock of Gibraltar. The fact was, that the professor had, shortly before, explored this celebrated rock, in search of bones, for the purposes of comparative anatomy. The learned lecturer then entered into a very minute account of the various peculiarities of the ostrich, and described with great clearness the organs by which this extraordinary bird was enabled to travel with its excessive speed. This peculiarity he ascribed to the power of the muscles, which pass from the pelvis to the foot, and cause the ostrich to stand in a vertical position, and not like other birds resembling it, on the toes.
For proof of the intimate relation between muscular power and extraordinary swiftness, Mr. Brookes mentioned that the chief professor of the Veterinary College had informed him, that upon dissecting the body of the celebrated racer Eclipse, one of the fleetest horses ever seen in this kingdom, it was found that he possessed muscles of unparalleled size. The lecturer here produced an anatomical plate of Eclipse; for the purpose of displaying his extraordinary muscular power, and observed, that if he had not told his hearers that it represented a race-horse, from the size of the muscles they might conclude, that he was showing them the plate of a cart-horse.[183]
Eclipse.
This engraving is from a drawing, in a treatise “on the proportions of Eclipse: by Mr. Charles Vial de Saint Bel, professor of the Veterinary College of London, &c.” 4to. 1791. Mr. Saint Bel’s work was written with a view to ascertain the mechanical causes which conspire to augment the velocity of the gallop; and no single race-horse could have been selected as a specimen of speed and strength equal to Eclipse. According to a calculation by the writer just mentioned, Eclipse, free of all weight, and galloping at liberty in his greatest speed, could cover an extent of twenty-five feet at each complete action on the gallop; and could repeat this action twice and one third in each second of time: consequently, by employing without reserve all his natural and mechanical faculties on a straight line, he could run nearly four miles in the space of six minutes and two seconds.
Eclipse was preeminent above all other horses, from having ran repeated races, without ever having been beat. The mechanism of his frame was almost perfect; and yet he was neither handsome, nor well proportioned. Compared with a table of the geometrical portions of the horse, in use at the veterinary schools of France, Eclipse measured in height one seventh more than he ought—his neck was one third too long—a perpendicular line falling from the stifle of a horse should touch the toe; this line in Eclipse touched the ground, at the distance of half a head before the toe—the distance from the elbow to the bend of the knee should be the same as from the bend of the knee to the ground; the former, in Eclipse, was two parts of a head longer than the latter. These were some of the remarkable differences between the presumed standard of proportions in a well-formed horse, and the horse of the greatest celebrity ever bred in England.
The excellence of Eclipse in speed, blood, pedigree, and progeny, will be transmitted, perhaps, to the end of time. He was bred by the former duke of Cumberland, and, being foaled during the “great eclipse,” was named “Eclipse” by the duke in consequence. His royal highness, however, did not survive to witness the very great performances he himself had predicted; for, when a yearling, Eclipse was disposed of by auction, with the rest of the stud, and a remarkable circumstance attended his sale. Mr. Wildman, a sporting gentleman, arrived after the sale had commenced, and a few lots had been knocked down. Producing his watch, he insisted that the sale had begun before the time advertised. The auctioneer remonstrated; Mr. Wildman was not to be appeased, and demanded that the lots already sold should be put up again. The dispute causing a loss of time, as well as a scene of confusion, the purchasers said, if there was any lot already sold, which he had an inclination to, rather than retard progress, it was at his service. Eclipse was the only lot he had fixed upon, and the horse was transferred to him at the price of forty-six guineas. At four, or five years old, Captain O’Kelly purchased him of Mr. Wildman for seventeen hundred guineas. He remained in Col. O’Kelly’s possession, winning king’s plates and every thing he ran for, until the death of his owner, who deemed him so valuable, as to insure the horse’s life for several thousand guineas. He bequeathed him to his brother, Philip O’Kelly, Esq. The colonel’s decease was in November, 1787. Eclipse survived his old master little more than a year, and died on the 27th of February, 1789, in the twenty-sixth year of his age. His heart weighed 13 lbs. The size of this organ was presumed to have greatly enabled him to do what he did in speed and strength. He won more matches than any horse of the race-breed was ever known to have done. He was at last so worn out, as to have been unable to stand, and about six months before his death was conveyed, in a machine constructed on purpose, from Epsom to Canons, where he breathed his last.
Colonel Dennis O’Kelly, the celebrated owner of Eclipse, amassed an immense fortune by gambling and the turf, and purchased the estate of Canons, near Edgware, which was formerly possessed by the duke of Chandos, and is still remembered as the site of the most magnificent mansion and establishment of modern times. The colonel’s training stables and paddocks, at another estate near Epsom, were supposed to be the best appointed in England.
Besides O’Kelly’s attachment to Eclipse, he had an affection to a parrot, which is famed for having been the best bred bird that ever came to this country. He gave fifty guineas for it at Bristol, and paid the expenses of the woman who brought it up to town. It not only talked what is usually termed “every thing,” but sang with great correctness a variety of tunes, and beat time as he sang; and if perchance he mistook a note in the tune, he returned to the bar wherein the mistake arose, and corrected himself, still beating the time with the utmost exactness. He sang any tune desired, fully understanding the request made. The accounts of this bird are so extraordinary, that, to those who had not seen and heard the bird, they appeared fabulous.
[183] The Times.
For the Table Book.
In the evening, the body relaxed by the toil of the day, disposes the mind to quietness and contemplation. The eye, dimmed by close application to books or business, languishes for the greenness of the fields; the brain, clouded by the smoke and vapour of close rooms and crowded streets, droops for the fragrance of fresh breezes, and sweet smelling flowers.
***
Urged by this feeling, I rambled along the Old Kent Road, making my way through the Saturnalian groups, collected by that mob-emancipating-time Easter Monday; wearied with the dust, and the exclamations of the multitude, I turned down the lane leading to the fields, near the place wherein the fair of Peckham is held, and sought for quietness in their greenness—and found it not. Instead of verdure, there were rows of dwellings of “plain brown brick,” and a half-formed road, from whence the feet of man and horse impregnated the air with stifling atoms of vitrified dust. Proceeding over the Rye, up the lane at the side of Forest-hill, I found the solitude I needed. The sun was just setting; his parting glance came from between the branches of the trees, like the mild light of a lover’s eye, from her long dark lashes, when she receives the adieu of her beloved, and the promise of meeting on the morrow. The air was cool and fitful, playing with the leaves, as not caring to stir them; and as I strayed, the silence was broken by the voice of a bird—it was the tit-lark. I recognised his beautiful “weet” and “fe-er,” as he dropped from the poplar among the soft grass; and I lingered near the wood, in the hope of hearing the nightingale—but he had not arrived, or was disposed to quiet. Evening closed over me: the hour came
Retracing my steps, I reached that field which stretches from the back of the Rosemary-branch to the canal; darkness was veiling the earth, the hum of the multitude was faintly audible; above it, high in the cool and shadowy air, rose the voice of a sky-lark, who had soared to take a last look at the fading day, singing his vespers. It was a sweeter lay than his morning, or mid-day carol—more regular and less ardent—divested of the fervour and fire of his noontide song—its hurried loudness and shrill tones. The softness of the present melody suited the calm and gentle hour. I listened on, and imagined it was a bird I had heard in the autumn of last year: I recollected the lengthy and well-timed music—the “cheer che-er,” “weet, weet, che-er”—“we-et, weet, cheer”—“che-er”—“weet, weet”—“cheer, weet, weet.” I still think it to have been the very bird of the former season. Since then he had seen
He had survived them, and had evaded the hawk in the cloud, and the snake in the grass. I felt an interest in this bird, for his lot had been like mine. The ills of life—as baleful to man, as the bird of prey and the invidious reptile to the weakest of the feathered race—had assailed me, and yet I had escaped. The notes in the air grew softer and fainter—I dimly perceived the flutter of descending wings—one short, shrill cry finished the song—darkness covered the earth—and I again sought human habitations, the abodes of carking cares, and heart-rending jealousies.
S. R. J.
April 16, 1827.