{"collection":"ritual-magic","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_636/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_636","id":"gutenberg_636","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/636","summary":null,"tags":["Alchemy","Category: Economics","Category: History - European","Category: History - Modern (1750+)","Common fallacies","Delusions","Hallucinations and illusions","Impostors and imposture","Investments -- Psychological aspects","Occultism -- Early works to 1900","Psychology","Social psychology","Stock exchanges -- Psychological aspects","Swindlers and swindling"],"text":"Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nMEMOIRS OF EXTRAORDINARY POPULAR DELUSIONS\n\nBy Charles Mackay\n\n\n\nAuthor Of\n\n\"The Thames And Its Tributaries,\" \"The Hope Of The World,\" Etc.\n\n\"Il est bon de connaitre les delires de l'esprit humain. Chaque people a\nses folies plus ou moins grossieres.\" MILLOT\n\n\nVOL I.\n\nLONDON: RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. PUBLISHER IN ORDINARY TO\nHER MAJESTY. 1841.\n\n\nCONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME\n\n  THE MISSISSIPPI SCHEME\n  THE SOUTH SEA BUBBLE\n  THE TULIPOMANIA\n  RELICS\n  MODERN PROPHECIES\n  POPULAR ADMIRATION FOR GREAT THIEVES\n  INFLUENCE OF POLITICS AND RELIGION ON THE HAIR AND BEARD\n  DUELS AND ORDEALS\n  THE LOVE OF THE MARVELOUS AND THE DISBELIEF OF THE TRUE\n  POPULAR FOLLIES IN GREAT CITIES\n  THE O. P. MANIA\n  THE THUGS, OR PHANSIGARS\n\n\n\n\n\nNATIONAL DELUSIONS.\n\n     N'en deplaise a ces fous nommes sages de Grece;\n     En ce monde il n'est point de parfaite sagesse;\n     Tous les hommes sont fous, et malgre tous leurs soins,\n     Ne different entre eux que du plus ou du moins.\n\n     BOILEAU.\n\n\nIn reading the history of nations, we find that, like individuals, they\nhave their whims and their peculiarities; their seasons of excitement\nand recklessness, when they care not what they do. We find that whole\ncommunities suddenly fix their minds upon one object, and go mad in its\npursuit; that millions of people become simultaneously impressed with\none delusion, and run after it, till their attention is caught by some\nnew folly more captivating than the first. We see one nation suddenly\nseized, from its highest to its lowest members, with a fierce desire\nof military glory; another as suddenly becoming crazed upon a religious\nscruple, and neither of them recovering its senses until it has shed\nrivers of blood and sowed a harvest of groans and tears, to be reaped\nby its posterity. At an early age in the annals of Europe its population\nlost their wits about the Sepulchre of Jesus, and crowded in frenzied\nmultitudes to the Holy Land: another age went mad for fear of the Devil,\nand offered up hundreds of thousands of victims to the delusion of\nwitchcraft. At another time, the many became crazed on the subject of\nthe Philosopher's Stone, and committed follies till then unheard of in\nthe pursuit. It was once thought a venial offence in very many countries\nof Europe to destroy an enemy by slow poison. Persons who would have\nrevolted at the idea of stabbing a man to the heart, drugged his pottage\nwithout scruple. Ladies of gentle birth and manners caught the\ncontagion of murder, until poisoning, under their auspices, became quite\nfashionable. Some delusions, though notorious to all the world, have\nsubsisted for ages, flourishing as widely among civilized and polished\nnations as among the early barbarians with whom they originated,--that\nof duelling, for instance, and the belief in omens and divination of\nthe future, which seem to defy the progress of knowledge to eradicate\nentirely from the popular mind. Money, again, has often been a cause\nof the delusion of multitudes. Sober nations have all at once become\ndesperate gamblers, and risked almost their existence upon the turn of\na piece of paper. To trace the history of the most prominent of these\ndelusions is the object of the present pages. Men, it has been well\nsaid, think in herds; it will be seen that they go mad in herds, while\nthey only recover their senses slowly, and one by one.\n\nIn the present state of civilization, society has often shown itself\nvery prone to run a career of folly from the last-mentioned cases.\nThis infatuation has seized upon whole nations in a most extraordinary\nmanner. France, with her Mississippi madness, set the first great\nexample, and was very soon imitated by England with her South Sea\nBubble. At an earlier period, Holland made herself still more ridiculous\nin the eyes of the world, by the frenzy which came over her people for\nthe love of Tulips. Melancholy as all these delusions were in their\nultimate results, their history is most amusing. A more ludicrous and\nyet painful spectacle, than that which Holland presented in the years\n1635 and 1636, or France in 1719 and 1720, can hardly be imagined.\nTaking them in the order of their importance, we shall commence our\nhistory with John Law and the famous Mississippi scheme of the years\nabove mentioned.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MISSISSIPPI SCHEME\n\n     Some in clandestine companies combine;\n     Erect new stocks to trade beyond the line;\n     With air and empty names beguile the town,\n     And raise new credits first, then cry 'em down;\n     Divide the empty nothing into shares,\n     And set the crowd together by the ears.\n\n     Defoe.\n\n\nThe personal character and career of one man are so intimately connected\nwith the great scheme of the years 1719 and 1720, that a history of the\nMississippi madness can have no fitter introduction than a sketch of the\nlife of its great author, John Law. Historians are divided in opinion as\nto whether they should designate him a knave or a madman. Both epithets\nwere unsparingly applied to him in his lifetime, and while the unhappy\nconsequences of his projects were still deeply felt. Posterity, however,\nhas found reason to doubt the justice of the accusation, and to confess\nthat John Law was neither knave nor madman, but one more deceived\nthan deceiving; more sinned against than sinning. He was thoroughly\nacquainted with the philosophy and true principles of credit. He\nunderstood the monetary question better than any man of his day; and if\nhis system fell with a crash so tremendous, it was not so much his\nfault as that of the people amongst whom he had erected it. He did not\ncalculate upon the avaricious frenzy of a whole nation; he did not see\nthat confidence, like mistrust, could be increased, almost ad infinitum,\nand that hope was as extravagant as fear. How was he to foretell that\nthe French people, like the man in the fable, would kill, in their\nfrantic eagerness, the fine goose he had brought to lay them so many\ngolden eggs? His fate was like that which may be supposed to have\novertaken the first adventurous boatman who rowed from Erie to Ontario.\nBroad and smooth was the river on which he embarked; rapid and pleasant\nwas his progress; and who was to stay him in his career? Alas for him!\nthe cataract was nigh. He saw, when it was too late, that the tide which\nwafted him so joyously along was a tide of destruction; and when he\nendeavoured to retrace his way, he found that the current was too strong\nfor his weak efforts to stem, and that he drew nearer every instant to\nthe tremendous falls. Down he went over the sharp rocks, and the\nwaters with him. He was dashed to pieces with his bark, but the waters,\nmaddened and turned to foam by the rough descent, only boiled and\nbubbled for a time, and then flowed on again as smoothly as ever. Just\nso it was with Law and the French people. He was the boatman and they\nwere the waters.\n\nJohn Law was born at Edinburgh in the year 1671. His father was the\nyounger son of an ancient family in Fife, and carried on the business\nof a goldsmith and banker. He amassed considerable wealth in his trade,\nsufficient to enable him to gratify the wish, so common among his\ncountrymen, of adding a territorial designation to his name. He\npurchased with this view the estates of Lauriston and Randleston, on\nthe Frith of Forth on the borders of West and Mid Lothian, and was\nthenceforth known as Law of Lauriston. The subject of our memoir, being\nthe eldest son, was received into his father's counting-house at the\nage of fourteen, and for three years laboured hard to acquire an insight\ninto the principles of banking, as then carried on in Scotland. He\nhad always manifested great love for the study of numbers, and his\nproficiency in the mathematics was considered extraordinary in one of\nhis tender years. At the age of seventeen he was tall, strong, and well\nmade; and his face, although deeply scarred with the small-pox, was\nagreeable in its expression, and full of intelligence. At this time he\nbegan to neglect his business, and becoming vain of his person, indulged\nin considerable extravagance of attire. He was a great favourite\nwith the ladies, by whom he was called Beau Law, while the other sex,\ndespising his foppery, nicknamed him Jessamy John. At the death of his\nfather, which happened in 1688, he withdrew entirely from the desk,\nwhich had become so irksome, and being possessed of the revenues of the\npaternal estate of Lauriston, he proceeded to London, to see the world.\n\nHe was now very young, very vain, good-looking, tolerably rich, and\nquite uncontrolled. It is no wonder that, on his arrival in the capital,\nhe should launch out into extravagance. He soon became a regular\nfrequenter of the gaming-houses, and by pursuing a certain plan,\nbased upon some abstruse calculation of chances, he contrived to gain\nconsiderable sums. All the gamblers envied him his luck, and many made\nit a point to watch his play, and stake their money on the same chances.\nIn affairs of gallantry he was equally fortunate; ladies of the first\nrank smiled graciously upon the handsome Scotchman--the young, the rich,\nthe witty, and the obliging. But all these successes only paved the way\nfor reverses. After he had been for nine years exposed to the dangerous\nattractions of the gay life he was leading, he became an irrecoverable\ngambler. As his love of play increased in violence, it diminished\nin prudence. Great losses were only to be repaired by still greater\nventures, and one unhappy day he lost more than he could repay without\nmortgaging his family estate. To that step he was driven at last. At\nthe same time his gallantry brought him into trouble. A love affair, or\nslight flirtation, with a lady of the name of Villiers [Miss Elizabeth\nVilliers, afterwards Countess of Orkney] exposed him to the resentment\nof a Mr. Wilson, by whom he was challenged to fight a duel. Law\naccepted, and had the ill fortune to shoot his antagonist dead upon the\nspot. He was arrested the same day, and brought to trial for murder\nby the relatives of Mr. Wilson. He was afterwards found guilty, and\nsentenced to death. The sentence was commuted to a fine, upon the ground\nthat the offence only amounted to manslaughter. An appeal being lodged\nby a brother of the deceased, Law was detained in the King's Bench,\nwhence, by some means or other, which he never explained, he contrived\nto escape; and an action being instituted against the sheriffs, he was\nadvertised in the Gazette, and a reward offered for his apprehension. He\nwas described as \"Captain John Law, a Scotchman, aged twenty-six; a\nvery tall, black, lean man; well shaped, above six feet high, with large\npockholes in his face; big nosed, and speaking broad and loud.\" As this\nwas rather a caricature than a description of him, it has been supposed\nthat it was drawn up with a view to favour his escape. He succeeded in\nreaching the Continent, where he travelled for three years, and devoted\nmuch of his attention to the monetary and banking affairs of the\ncountries through which he passed. He stayed a few months in Amsterdam,\nand speculated to some extent in the funds. His mornings were devoted\nto the study of finance and the principles of trade, and his evenings to\nthe gaming-house. It is generally believed that he returned to Edinburgh\nin the year 1700. It is certain that he published in that city his\n\"Proposals and Reasons for constituting a Council of Trade.\" This\npamphlet did not excite much attention.\n\nIn a short time afterwards he published a project for establishing what\nhe called a Land-bank [The wits of the day called it a sand-bank, which\nwould wreck the vessel of the state.], the notes issued by which\nwere never to exceed the value of the entire lands of the state, upon\nordinary interest, or were to be equal in value to the land, with the\nright to enter into possession at a certain time. The project excited a\ngood deal of discussion in the Scottish parliament, and a motion for\nthe establishment of such a bank was brought forward by a neutral\nparty, called the Squadrone, whom Law had interested in his favour.\nThe Parliament ultimately passed a resolution to the effect, that, to\nestablish any kind of paper credit, so as to force it to pass, was an\nimproper expedient for the nation.\n\nUpon the failure of this project, and of his efforts to procure a pardon\nfor the murder of Mr. Wilson, Law withdrew to the Continent, and resumed\nhis old habits of gaming. For fourteen years he continued to roam about,\nin Flanders, Holland, Germany, Hungary, Italy, and France. He soon\nbecame intimately acquainted with the extent of the trade and resources\nof each, and daily more confirmed in his opinion that no country could\nprosper without a paper currency. During the whole of this time he\nappears to have chiefly supported himself by successful play. At every\ngambling-house of note in the capitals of Europe, he was known and\nappreciated as one better skilled in the intricacies of chance than any\nother man of the day. It is stated in the \"Biographie Universelle\" that\nhe was expelled, first from Venice, and afterwards from Genoa, by the\nmagistrates, who thought him a visitor too dangerous for the youth\nof those cities. During his residence in Paris he rendered himself\nobnoxious to D'Argenson, the lieutenant-general of the police, by whom\nhe was ordered to quit the capital. This did not take place, however,\nbefore he had made the acquaintance in the saloons, of the Duke de\nVendome, the Prince de Conti, and of the gay Duke of Orleans, the latter\nof whom was destined afterwards to exercise so much influence over his\nfate. The Duke of Orleans was pleased with the vivacity and good sense\nof the Scottish adventurer, while the latter was no less pleased with\nthe wit and amiability of a prince who promised to become his patron.\nThey were often thrown into each other's society, and Law seized every\nopportunity to instil his financial doctrines into the mind of one whose\nproximity to the throne pointed him out as destined, at no very distant\ndate, to play an important part in the government.\n\nShortly before the death of Louis XIV, or, as some say, in 1708, Law\nproposed a scheme of finance to Desmarets, the Comptroller. Louis is\nreported to have inquired whether the projector were a Catholic, and, on\nbeing answered in the negative, to have declined having anything to\ndo with him. [This anecdote, which is related in the correspondence\nof Madame de Baviere, Duchess of Orleans, and mother of the Regent,\nis discredited by Lord John Russell, in his \"History of the principal\nStates of Europe, from the Peace of Utrecht;\" for what reason he\ndoes not inform us. There is no doubt that Law proposed his scheme to\nDesmarets, and that Louis refused to hear of it. The reason given for\nthe refusal is quite consistent with the character of that bigoted and\ntyrannical monarch.]\n\nIt was after this repulse that he visited Italy. His mind being still\noccupied with schemes of finance, he proposed to Victor Amadeus, Duke of\nSavoy, to establish his land-bank in that country. The Duke replied that\nhis dominions were too circumscribed for the execution of so great a\nproject, and that he was by far too poor a potentate to be ruined. He\nadvised him, however, to try the King of France once more; for he was\nsure, if he knew anything of the French character, that the people would\nbe delighted with a plan, not only so new, but so plausible.\n\nLouis XIV died in 1715, and the heir to the throne being an infant only\nseven years of age, the Duke of Orleans assumed the reins of government,\nas Regent, during his minority. Law now found himself in a more\nfavourable position. The tide in his affairs had come, which, taken at\nthe flood, was to waft him on to fortune. The Regent was his friend,\nalready acquainted with his theory and pretensions, and inclined,\nmoreover, to aid him in any efforts to restore the wounded credit of\nFrance, bowed down to the earth by the extravagance of the long reign of\nLouis XIV.\n\nHardly was that monarch laid in his grave ere the popular hatred,\nsuppressed so long, burst forth against his memory. He who, during his\nlife, had been flattered with an excess of adulation, to which history\nscarcely offers a parallel, was now cursed as a tyrant, a bigot, and\na plunderer. His statues were pelted and disfigured; his effigies\ntorn down, amid the execrations of the populace, and his name rendered\nsynonymous with selfishness and oppression. The glory of his arms\nwas forgotten, and nothing was remembered but his reverses, his\nextravagance, and his cruelty.\n\nThe finances of the country were in a state of the utmost disorder.\nA profuse and corrupt monarch, whose profuseness and corruption were\nimitated by almost every functionary, from the highest to the lowest\ngrade, had brought France to the verge of ruin. The national debt\namounted to 3000 millions of livres, the revenue to 145 millions, and\nthe expenditure to 142 millions per annum; leaving only three millions\nto pay the interest upon 3000 millions. The first care of the Regent was\nto discover a remedy for an evil of such magnitude, and a council was\nearly summoned to take the matter into consideration. The Duke de St.\nSimon was of opinion that nothing could save the country from revolution\nbut a remedy at once bold and dangerous. He advised the Regent to\nconvoke the States-General, and declare a national bankruptcy. The\nDuke de Noailles, a man of accommodating principles, an accomplished\ncourtier, and totally averse from giving himself any trouble or\nannoyance that ingenuity could escape from, opposed the project of St.\nSimon with all his influence. He represented the expedient as alike\ndishonest and ruinous. The Regent was of the same opinion, and this\ndesperate remedy fell to the ground.\n\nThe measures ultimately adopted, though they promised fair, only\naggravated the evil. The first, and most dishonest measure, was of no\nadvantage to the state. A recoinage was ordered, by which the currency\nwas depreciated one-fifth; those who took a thousand pieces of gold or\nsilver to the mint received back an amount of coin of the same nominal\nvalue, but only four-fifths of the weight of metal. By this contrivance\nthe treasury gained seventy-two millions of livres, and all the\ncommercial operations of the country were disordered. A trifling\ndiminution of the taxes silenced the clamours of the people, and for the\nslight present advantage the great prospective evil was forgotten.\n\nA chamber of justice was next instituted, to inquire into the\nmalversations of the loan-contractors and the farmers of the revenues.\nTax collectors are never very popular in any country, but those of\nFrance at this period deserved all the odium with which they were\nloaded. As soon as these farmers-general, with all their hosts of\nsubordinate agents, called maltotiers [From maltote, an oppressive\ntax.], were called to account for their misdeeds, the most extravagant\njoy took possession of the nation. The Chamber of Justice, instituted\nchiefly for this purpose, was endowed with very extensive powers. It was\ncomposed of the presidents and councils of the parliament, the judges\nof the Courts of Aid and of Requests, and the officers of the Chamber\nof Account, under the general presidence of the minister of finance.\nInformers were encouraged to give evidence against the offenders by the\npromise of one-fifth part of the fines and confiscations. A tenth of all\nconcealed effects belonging to the guilty was promised to such as should\nfurnish the means of discovering them.\n\nThe promulgation of the edict constituting this court caused a degree\nof consternation among those principally concerned which can only\nbe accounted for on the supposition that their peculation had been\nenormous. But they met with no sympathy. The proceedings against them\njustified their terror. The Bastile was soon unable to contain the\nprisoners that were sent to it, and the gaols all over the country\nteemed with guilty or suspected persons. An order was issued to all\ninnkeepers and postmasters to refuse horses to such as endeavoured\nto seek safety in flight; and all persons were forbidden, under heavy\nfines, to harbour them or favour their evasion. Some were condemned to\nthe pillory, others to the gallies, and the least guilty to fine\nand imprisonment. One only, Samuel Bernard, a rich banker, and\nfarmer-general of a province remote from the capital, was sentenced to\ndeath. So great had been the illegal profits of this man,--looked\nupon as the tyrant and oppressor of his district,--that he offered six\nmillions of livres, or 250,000 pounds sterling, to be allowed to escape.\n\nHis bribe was refused, and he suffered the penalty of death. Others,\nperhaps more guilty, were more fortunate. Confiscation, owing to the\nconcealment of their treasures by the delinquents, often produced less\nmoney than a fine. The severity of the government relaxed, and fines,\nunder the denomination of taxes, were indiscriminately levied upon all\noffenders. But so corrupt was every department of the administration,\nthat the country benefited but little by the sums which thus flowed into\nthe treasury. Courtiers, and courtiers' wives and mistresses, came in\nfor the chief share of the spoils. One contractor had been taxed in\nproportion to his wealth and guilt, at the sum of twelve millions of\nlivres. The Count * * *, a man of some weight in the government, called\nupon him, and offered to procure a remission of the fine, if he would\ngive him a hundred thousand crowns. \"Vous etes trop tard, mon ami,\"\nreplied the financier; \"I have already made a bargain with your wife for\nfifty thousand.\" [This anecdote is related by M. de la Hode, in his Life\nof Philippe of Orleans. It would have looked more authentic if he had\ngiven the names of the dishonest contractor and the still more dishonest\nminister. But M. de la Hode's book is liable to the same objection as\nmost of the French memoirs of that and of subsequent periods. It is\nsufficient with most of them that an anecdote be ben trovato; the veto\nis but matter of secondary consideration.]\n\nAbout a hundred and eighty millions of livres were levied in this\nmanner, of which eighty were applied in payment of the debts contracted\nby the government. The remainder found its way into the pockets of the\ncourtiers. Madame de Maintenon, writing on this subject, says, \"We hear\nevery day of some new grant of the Regent; the people murmur very much\nat this mode of employing the money taken from the peculators.\"\nThe people, who, after the first burst of their resentment is over,\ngenerally express a sympathy for the weak, were indignant that so much\nseverity should be used to so little purpose. They did not see the\njustice of robbing one set of rogues to fatten another. In a few months\nall the more guilty had been brought to punishment, and the chamber of\njustice looked for victims in humbler walks of life. Charges of fraud\nand extortion were brought against tradesmen of good character, in\nconsequence of the great inducements held out to common informers. They\nwere compelled to lay open their affairs before this tribunal in order\nto establish their innocence. The voice of complaint resounded from\nevery side, and at the expiration of a year the government found it\nadvisable to discontinue further proceedings. The chamber of justice was\nsuppressed, and a general amnesty granted to all against whom no charges\nhad yet been preferred.\n\nIn the midst of this financial confusion Law appeared upon the scene.\nNo man felt more deeply than the Regent the deplorable state of the\ncountry, but no man could be more averse from putting his shoulders\nmanfully to the wheel. He disliked business; he signed official\ndocuments without proper examination, and trusted to others what he\nshould have undertaken himself. The cares inseparable from his high\noffice were burdensome to him; he saw that something was necessary to\nbe done, but he lacked the energy to do it, and had not virtue enough\nto sacrifice his case and his pleasures in the attempt. No wonder that,\nwith this character, he listened favourably to the mighty projects, so\neasy of execution, of the clever adventurer whom he had formerly known,\nand whose talents he appreciated.\n\nWhen Law presented himself at court, he was most cordially received.\nHe offered two memorials to the Regent, in which he set forth the\nevils that had befallen France, owing to an insufficient currency,\nat different times depreciated. He asserted that a metallic currency,\nunaided by a paper money, was wholly inadequate to the wants of a\ncommercial country, and particularly cited the examples of Great\nBritain and Holland to show the advantages of paper. He used many\nsound arguments on the subject of credit, and proposed, as a means of\nrestoring that of France, then at so low an ebb among the nations, that\nhe should be allowed to set up a bank, which should have the management\nof the royal revenues, and issue notes, both on that and on landed\nsecurity. He further proposed that this bank should be administered\nin the King's name, but subject to the control of commissioners, to be\nnamed by the States-General.\n\nWhile these memorials were under consideration, Law translated into\nFrench his essay on money and trade, and used every means to extend\nthrough the nation his renown as a financier. He soon became talked of.\nThe confidants of the Regent spread abroad his praise, and every one\nexpected great things of Monsieur Lass. [The French pronounced his name\nin this manner to avoid the ungallic sound, aw. After the failure of his\nscheme, the wags said the nation was lasse de lui, and proposed that he\nshould in future be known by the name of Monsieur Helas!]\n\nOn the 5th of May, 1716, a royal edict was published, by which Law was\nauthorised, in conjunction with his brother, to establish a bank, under\nthe name of Law and Company, the notes of which should be received in\npayment of the taxes. The capital was fixed at six millions of livres,\nin twelve thousand shares of five hundred livres each, purchasable\none-fourth in specie and the remainder in billets d'etat. It was not\nthought expedient to grant him the whole of the privileges prayed for\nin his memorials until experience should have shown their safety and\nadvantage.\n\nLaw was now on the high road to fortune. The study of thirty years was\nbrought to guide him in the management of his bank. He made all his\nnotes payable at sight, and in the coin current at the time they\nwere issued. This last was a master-stroke of policy, and immediately\nrendered his notes more valuable than the precious metals. The latter\nwere constantly liable to depreciation by the unwise tampering of the\ngovernment. A thousand livres of silver might be worth their nominal\nvalue one day and be reduced one-sixth the next, but a note of Law's\nbank retained its original value. He publicly declared at the same time\nthat a banker deserved death if he made issues without having sufficient\nsecurity to answer all demands. The consequence was, that his notes\nadvanced rapidly in public estimation, and were received at one per\ncent. more than specie. It was not long before the trade of the country\nfelt the benefit. Languishing commerce began to lift up her head; the\ntaxes were paid with greater regularity and less murmuring, and a degree\nof confidence was established that could not fail, if it continued, to\nbecome still more advantageous. In the course of a year Law's notes rose\nto fifteen per cent. premium, while the billets d'etat, or notes\nissued by the government, as security for the debts contracted by the\nextravagant Louis XIV, were at a discount of no less than seventy-eight\nand a half per cent. The comparison was too great in favour of Law not\nto attract the attention of the whole kingdom, and his credit extended\nitself day by day. Branches of his bank were almost simultaneously\nestablished at Lyons, Rochelle, Tours, Amiens, and Orleans.\n\nThe Regent appears to have been utterly astonished at his success, and\ngradually to have conceived the idea, that paper, which could so aid a\nmetallic currency, could entirely supersede it. Upon this fundamental\nerror he afterwards acted. In the mean time, Law commenced the famous\nproject which has handed his name down to posterity. He proposed to\nthe Regent, who could refuse him nothing, to establish a company,\nthat should have the exclusive privilege of trading to the great river\nMississippi and the province of Louisiana, on its western bank. The\ncountry was supposed to abound in the precious metals, and the company,\nsupported by the profits of their exclusive commerce, were to be the\nsole farmers of the taxes, and sole coiners of money. Letters patent\nwere issued, incorporating the company, in August 1717. The capital was\ndivided into two hundred thousand shares of five hundred livres each,\nthe whole of which might be paid in billets d'etat, at their nominal\nvalue, although worth no more than 160 livres in the market.\n\nIt was now that the frenzy of speculating began to seize upon the\nnation. Law's bank had effected so much good, that any promises for the\nfuture which he thought proper to make were readily believed. The Regent\nevery day conferred new privileges upon the fortunate projector. The\nbank obtained the monopoly of the sale of tobacco; the sole right of\nrefinage of gold and silver, and was finally erected into the Royal Bank\nof France. Amid the intoxication of success, both Law and the Regent\nforgot the maxim so loudly proclaimed by the former, that a banker\ndeserved death who made issues of paper without the necessary funds to\nprovide for them. As soon as the bank, from a private, became a public\ninstitution, the Regent caused a fabrication of notes to the amount of\none thousand millions of livres. This was the first departure from sound\nprinciples, and one for which Law is not justly blameable. While\nthe affairs of the bank were under his control, the issues had never\nexceeded sixty millions. Whether Law opposed the inordinate increase\nis not known, but as it took place as soon as the bank was made a royal\nestablishment, it is but fair to lay the blame of the change of system\nupon the Regent.\n\nLaw found that he lived under a despotic government, but he was not yet\naware of the pernicious influence which such a government could exercise\nupon so delicate a framework as that of credit. He discovered it\nafterwards to his cost, but in the mean time suffered himself to be\nimpelled by the Regent into courses which his own reason must have\ndisapproved. With a weakness most culpable, he lent his aid in\ninundating the country with paper money, which, based upon no solid\nfoundation, was sure to fall, sooner or later. The extraordinary present\nfortune dazzled his eyes, and prevented him from seeing the evil day\nthat would burst over his head, when once, from any cause or other, the\nalarm was sounded. The Parliament were from the first jealous of his\ninfluence as a foreigner, and had, besides, their misgivings as to\nthe safety of his projects. As his influence extended, their animosity\nincreased. D'Aguesseau, the Chancellor, was unceremoniously dismissed by\nthe Regent for his opposition to the vast increase of paper money, and\nthe constant depreciation of the gold and silver coin of the realm.\nThis only served to augment the enmity of the Parliament, and when\nD'Argenson, a man devoted to the interests of the Regent, was appointed\nto the vacant chancellorship, and made at the same time minister of\nfinance, they became more violent than ever. The first measure of the\nnew minister caused a further depreciation of the coin. In order to\nextinguish the billets d'etat, it was ordered that persons bringing\nto the mint four thousand livres in specie and one thousand livres in\nbillets d'etat, should receive back coin to the amount of five thousand\nlivres. D'Argenson plumed himself mightily upon thus creating five\nthousand new and smaller livres out of the four thousand old and larger\nones, being too ignorant of the true principles of trade and credit to\nbe aware of the immense injury he was inflicting upon both.\n\nThe Parliament saw at once the impolicy and danger of such a system,\nand made repeated remonstrances to the Regent. The latter refused to\nentertain their petitions, when the Parliament, by a bold, and very\nunusual stretch of authority, commanded that no money should be received\nin payment but that of the old standard. The Regent summoned a lit de\njustice, and annulled the decree. The Parliament resisted, and issued\nanother. Again the Regent exercised his privilege, and annulled it,\ntill the Parliament, stung to fiercer opposition, passed another decree,\ndated August 12th, 1718, by which they forbade the bank of Law to have\nany concern, either direct or indirect, in the administration of the\nrevenue; and prohibited all foreigners, under heavy penalties, from\ninterfering, either in their own names, or in that of others, in the\nmanagement of the finances of the state. The Parliament considered Law\nto be the author of all the evil, and some of the counsellors, in the\nvirulence of their enmity, proposed that he should be brought to trial,\nand, if found guilty, be hung at the gates of the Palais de Justice.\n\nLaw, in great alarm, fled to the Palais Royal, and threw himself on the\nprotection of the Regent, praying that measures might be taken to reduce\nthe Parliament to obedience. The Regent had nothing so much at heart,\nboth on that account and because of the disputes that had arisen\nrelative to the legitimation of the Duke of Maine and the Count of\nThoulouse, the sons of the late King. The Parliament was ultimately\noverawed by the arrest of their president and two of the counsellors,\nwho were sent to distant prisons.\n\nThus the first cloud upon Law's prospects blew over: freed from\napprehension of personal danger, he devoted his attention to his famous\nMississippi project, the shares of which were rapidly rising, in spite\nof the Parliament. At the commencement of the year 1719 an edict was\npublished, granting to the Mississippi Company the exclusive privilege\nof trading to the East Indies, China, and the South Seas, and to all the\npossessions of the French East India Company, established by Colbert.\nThe Company, in consequence of this great increase of their business,\nassumed, as more appropriate, the title of Company of the Indies, and\ncreated fifty thousand new shares. The prospects now held out by Law\nwere most magnificent. He promised a yearly dividend of two hundred\nlivres upon each share of five hundred, which, as the shares were\npaid for in billets d'etat, at their nominal value, but worth only 100\nlivres, was at the rate of about 120 per cent. profit.\n\nThe public enthusiasm, which had been so long rising, could not resist\na vision so splendid. At least three hundred thousand applications were\nmade for the fifty thousand new shares, and Law's house in the Rue de\nQuincampoix was beset from morning to night by the eager applicants.\nAs it was impossible to satisfy them all, it was several weeks before a\nlist of the fortunate new stockholders could be made out, during which\ntime the public impatience rose to a pitch of frenzy. Dukes, marquises,\ncounts, with their duchesses, marchionesses, and countesses, waited\nin the streets for hours every day before Mr. Law's door to know the\nresult. At last, to avoid the jostling of the plebeian crowd, which,\nto the number of thousands, filled the whole thoroughfare, they took\napartments in the adjoining houses, that they might be continually near\nthe temple whence the new Plutus was diffusing wealth. Every day the\nvalue of the old shares increased, and the fresh applications, induced\nby the golden dreams of the whole nation, became so numerous that it\nwas deemed advisable to create no less than three hundred thousand new\nshares, at five thousand livres each, in order that the Regent might\ntake advantage of the popular enthusiasm to pay off the national debt.\nFor this purpose, the sum of fifteen hundred millions of livres was\nnecessary. Such was the eagerness of the nation, that thrice the sum\nwould have been subscribed if the government had authorised it.\n\nLaw was now at the zenith of his prosperity, and the people were rapidly\napproaching the zenith of their infatuation. The highest and the lowest\nclasses were alike filled with a vision of boundless wealth. There was\nnot a person of note among the aristocracy, with the exception of the\nDuke of St. Simon and Marshal Villars, who was not engaged in buying\nor selling stock. People of every age and sex, and condition in life,\nspeculated in the rise and fall of the Mississippi bonds. The Rue de\nQuincampoix was the grand resort of the jobbers, and it being a narrow,\ninconvenient street, accidents continually occurred in it, from the\ntremendous pressure of the crowd. Houses in it, worth, in ordinary\ntimes, a thousand livres of yearly rent, yielded as much as twelve or\nsixteen thousand. A cobbler, who had a stall in it, gained about two\nhundred livres a day by letting it out, and furnishing writing materials\nto brokers and their clients. The story goes, that a hump-backed man who\nstood in the street gained considerable sums by lending his hump as a\nwriting-desk to the eager speculators! The great concourse of persons\nwho assembled to do business brought a still greater concourse of\nspectators. These again drew all the thieves and immoral characters of\nParis to the spot, and constant riots and disturbances took place. At\nnightfall, it was often found necessary to send a troop of soldiers to\nclear the street.\n\nLaw, finding the inconvenience of his residence, removed to the Place\nVendome, whither the crowd of agioteurs followed him. That spacious\nsquare soon became as thronged as the Rue de Quincampoix: from morning\nto night it presented the appearance of a fair. Booths and tents were\nerected for the transaction of business and the sale of refreshments,\nand gamblers with their roulette tables stationed themselves in the very\nmiddle of the place, and reaped a golden, or rather a paper, harvest\nfrom the throng. The Boulevards and public gardens were forsaken;\nparties of pleasure took their walks in preference in the Place Vendome,\nwhich became the fashionable lounge of the idle, as well as the general\nrendezvous of the busy. The noise was so great all day, that the\nChancellor, whose court was situated in the square, complained to the\nRegent and the municipality, that he could not hear the advocates. Law,\nwhen applied to, expressed his willingness to aid in the removal of the\nnuisance, and for this purpose entered into a treaty with the Prince de\nCarignan for the Hotel de Soissons, which had a garden of several acres\nin the rear. A bargain was concluded, by which Law became the purchaser\nof the hotel, at an enormous price, the Prince reserving to himself the\nmagnificent gardens as a new source of profit. They contained some fine\nstatues and several fountains, and were altogether laid out with much\ntaste. As soon as Law was installed in his new abode, an edict was\npublished, forbidding all persons to buy or sell stock anywhere but\nin the gardens of the Hotel de Soissons. In the midst among the trees,\nabout five hundred small tents and pavilions were erected, for the\nconvenience of the stock-jobbers. Their various colours, the gay ribands\nand banners which floated from them, the busy crowds which passed\ncontinually in and out--the incessant hum of voices, the noise,\nthe music, and the strange mixture of business and pleasure on the\ncountenances of the throng, all combined to give the place an air of\nenchantment that quite enraptured the Parisians. The Prince de Carignan\nmade enormous profits while the delusion lasted. Each tent was let at\nthe rate of five hundred livres a month; and, as there were at least\nfive hundred of them, his monthly revenue from this source alone must\nhave amounted to 250,000 livres, or upwards of 10,000 pounds sterling.\n\nThe honest old soldier, Marshal Villars, was so vexed to see the folly\nwhich had smitten his countrymen, that he never could speak with\ntemper on the subject. Passing one day through the Place Vendome in his\ncarriage, the choleric gentleman was so annoyed at the infatuation of\nthe people, that he abruptly ordered his coachman to stop, and, putting\nhis head out of the carriage window, harangued them for full half an\nhour on their \"disgusting avarice.\" This was not a very wise proceeding\non his part. Hisses and shouts of laughter resounded from every side,\nand jokes without number were aimed at him. There being at last strong\nsymptoms that something more tangible was flying through the air in\nthe direction of his head, Marshal was glad to drive on. He never again\nrepeated the experiment.\n\nTwo sober, quiet, and philosophic men of letters, M. de la Motte and the\nAbbe Terrason, congratulated each other, that they, at least, were free\nfrom this strange infatuation. A few days afterwards, as the worthy\nAbbe was coming out of the Hotel de Soissons, whither he had gone to buy\nshares in the Mississippi, whom should he see but his friend La Motte\nentering for the same purpose. \"Ha!\" said the Abbe, smiling, \"is that\nyou?\" \"Yes,\" said La Motte, pushing past him as fast as he was able;\n\"and can that be you?\" The next time the two scholars met, they talked\nof philosophy, of science, and of religion, but neither had courage for\na long time to breathe one syllable about the Mississippi. At last, when\nit was mentioned, they agreed that a man ought never to swear against\nhis doing any one thing, and that there was no sort of extravagance of\nwhich even a wise man was not capable.\n\nDuring this time, Law, the new Plutus, had become all at once the most\nimportant personage of the state. The ante-chambers of the Regent were\nforsaken by the courtiers. Peers, judges, and bishops thronged to the\nHotel de Soissons; officers of the army and navy, ladies of title and\nfashion, and every one to whom hereditary rank or public employ gave a\nclaim to precedence, were to be found waiting in his ante-chambers to\nbeg for a portion of his India stock. Law was so pestered that he was\nunable to see one-tenth part of the applicants, and every manoeuvre that\ningenuity could suggest was employed to gain access to him. Peers, whose\ndignity would have been outraged if the Regent had made them wait half\nan hour for an interview, were content to wait six hours for the chance\nof seeing Monsieur Law. Enormous fees were paid to his servants, if\nthey would merely announce their names. Ladies of rank employed the\nblandishments of their smiles for the same object; but many of them came\nday after day for a fortnight before they could obtain an audience. When\nLaw accepted an invitation, he was sometimes so surrounded by ladies,\nall asking to have their names put down in his lists as shareholders in\nthe new stock, that, in spite of his well-known and habitual gallantry,\nhe was obliged to tear himself away par force. The most ludicrous\nstratagems were employed to have an opportunity of speaking to him. One\nlady, who had striven in vain during several days, gave up in despair\nall attempts to see him at his own house, but ordered her coachman to\nkeep a strict watch whenever she was out in her carriage, and if he saw\nMr. Law coming, to drive against a post, and upset her. The coachman\npromised obedience, and for three days the lady was driven incessantly\nthrough the town, praying inwardly for the opportunity to be overturned.\nAt last she espied Mr. Law, and, pulling the string, called out to the\ncoachman, \"Upset us now! for God's sake, upset us now!\" The coachman\ndrove against a post, the lady screamed, the coach was overturned,\nand Law, who had seen the accident, hastened to the spot to render\nassistance. The cunning dame was led into the Hotel de Soissons, where\nshe soon thought it advisable to recover from her fright, and, after\napologizing to Mr. Law, confessed her stratagem. Law smiled, and entered\nthe lady in his books as the purchaser of a quantity of India stock.\nAnother story is told of a Madame de Boucha, who, knowing that Mr. Law\nwas at dinner at a certain house, proceeded thither in her carriage, and\ngave the alarm of fire. The company started from table, and Law among\nthe rest; but, seeing one lady making all haste into the house towards\nhim, while everybody else was scampering away, he suspected the trick,\nand ran off in another direction.\n\nMany other anecdotes are related, which even, though they may be a\nlittle exaggerated, are nevertheless worth preserving, as showing the\nspirit of that singular period. [The curious reader may find an anecdote\nof the eagerness of the French ladies to retain Law in their company,\nwhich will make him blush or smile according as he happens to be very\nmodest or the reverse. It is related in the Letters of Madame Charlotte\nElizabeth de Baviere, Duchess of Orleans, vol. ii. p. 274.] The Regent\nwas one day mentioning, in the presence of D'Argenson, the Abbe Dubois,\nand some other persons, that he was desirous of deputing some lady, of\nthe rank at least of a Duchess, to attend upon his daughter at Modena;\n\"but,\" added he, \"I do not exactly know where to find one.\" \"No!\"\nreplied one, in affected surprise; \"I can tell you where to find every\nDuchess in France:--you have only to go to Mr. Law's; you will see them\nevery one in his ante-chamber.\"\n\nM. de Chirac, a celebrated physician, had bought stock at an unlucky\nperiod, and was very anxious to sell out. Stock, however continued to\nfall for two or three days, much to his alarm. His mind was filled with\nthe subject, when he was suddenly called upon to attend a lady, who\nimagined herself unwell. He arrived, was shown up stairs, and felt the\nlady's pulse. \"It falls! it falls! good God! it falls continually!\" said\nhe, musingly, while the lady looked up in his face, all anxiety for his\nopinion. \"Oh! M. de Chirac,\" said she, starting to her feet, and ringing\nthe bell for assistance; \"I am dying! I am dying! it falls! it falls! it\nfalls!\" \"What falls?\" inquired the doctor, in amazement. \"My pulse! my\npulse!\" said the lady; \"I must be dying.\" \"Calm your apprehensions, my\ndear Madam,\" said M. de Chirac; \"I was speaking of the stocks. The truth\nis, I have been a great loser, and my mind is so disturbed, I hardly\nknow what I have been saying.\"\n\nThe price of shares sometimes rose ten or twenty per cent. in the course\nof a few hours, and many persons in the humbler walks of life, who had\nrisen poor in the morning, went to bed in affluence. An extensive holder\nof stock, being taken ill, sent his servant to sell two hundred and\nfifty shares, at eight thousand livres each, the price at which they\nwere then quoted. The servant went, and, on his arrival in the Jardin de\nSoissons, found that in the interval the price had risen to ten thousand\nlivres. The difference of two thousand livres on the two hundred and\nfifty shares, amounting to 500,000 livres, or 20,000 pounds sterling, he\nvery coolly transferred to his own use, and, giving the remainder to his\nmaster, set out the same evening for another country. Law's coachman in\na very short time made money enough to set up a carriage of his own, and\nrequested permission to leave his service. Law, who esteemed the man,\nbegged of him as a favour, that he would endeavour, before he went, to\nfind a substitute as good as himself. The coachman consented, and in the\nevening brought two of his former comrades, telling Mr. Law to choose\nbetween them, and he would take the other. Cookmaids and footmen\nwere now and then as lucky, and, in the full-blown pride of their\neasily-acquired wealth, made the most ridiculous mistakes. Preserving\nthe language and manners of their old, with the finery of their new\nstation, they afforded continual subjects for the pity of the sensible,\nthe contempt of the sober, and the laughter of everybody. But the folly\nand meanness of the higher ranks of society were still more disgusting.\nOne instance alone, related by the Duke de St. Simon, will show the\nunworthy avarice which infected the whole of society. A man of the name\nof Andre, without character or education, had, by a series of well-timed\nspeculations in Mississippi bonds, gained enormous wealth, in an\nincredibly short space of time. As St. Simon expresses it, \"he had\namassed mountains of gold.\" As he became rich, he grew ashamed of the\nlowness of his birth, and anxious above all things to be allied to\nnobility. He had a daughter, an infant only three years of age, and he\nopened a negotiation with the aristocratic and needy family of D'Oyse,\nthat this child should, upon certain conditions, marry a member of that\nhouse. The Marquis d'Oyse, to his shame, consented, and promised to\nmarry her himself on her attaining the age of twelve, if the father\nwould pay him down the sum of a hundred thousand crowns, and twenty\nthousand livres every year, until the celebration of the marriage. The\nMarquis was himself in his thirty-third year. This scandalous bargain\nwas duly signed and sealed, the stockjobber furthermore agreeing to\nsettle upon his daughter, on the marriage-day, a fortune of several\nmillions. The Duke of Brancas, the head of the family, was present\nthroughout the negotiation, and shared in all the profits. St. Simon,\nwho treats the matter with the levity becoming what he thought so good\na joke, adds, \"that people did not spare their animadversions on this\nbeautiful marriage,\" and further informs us, \"that the project fell to\nthe ground some months afterwards by the overthrow of Law, and the ruin\nof the ambitious Monsieur Andre.\" It would appear, however, that the\nnoble family never had the honesty to return the hundred thousand\ncrowns.\n\nAmid events like these, which, humiliating though they be, partake\nlargely of the ludicrous, others occurred of a more serious nature.\nRobberies in the streets were of daily occurrence, in consequence of\nthe immense sums, in paper, which people carried about with them.\nAssassinations were also frequent. One case in particular fixed the\nattention of the whole of France, not only on account of the enormity of\nthe offence, but of the rank and high connexions of the criminal.\n\nThe Count d'Horn, a younger brother of the Prince d'Horn, and related\nto the noble families of D'Aremberg, De Ligne, and De Montmorency, was\na young man of dissipated character, extravagant to a degree, and\nunprincipled as he was extravagant. In connexion with two other young\nmen as reckless as himself, named Mille, a Piedmontese captain, and one\nDestampes, or Lestang, a Fleming, he formed a design to rob a very rich\nbroker, who was known, unfortunately for himself, to carry great sums\nabout his person. The Count pretended a desire to purchase of him a\nnumber of shares in the Company of the Indies, and for that purpose\nappointed to meet him in a cabaret, or low public-house, in the\nneighbourhood of the Place Vendome. The unsuspecting broker was punctual\nto his appointment; so were the Count d'Horn and his two associates,\nwhom he introduced as his particular friends. After a few moments'\nconversation, the Count d'Horn suddenly sprang upon his victim, and\nstabbed him three times in the breast with a poniard. The man fell\nheavily to the ground, and, while the Count was employed in rifling his\nportfolio of bonds in the Mississippi and Indian schemes to the amount\nof one hundred thousand crowns, Mille, the Piedmontese, stabbed the\nunfortunate broker again and again, to make sure of his death. But the\nbroker did not fall without a struggle, and his cries brought the people\nof the cabaret to his assistance. Lestang, the other assassin, who had\nbeen set to keep watch at a staircase, sprang from a window and escaped;\nbut Mille and the Count d'Horn were seized in the very act.\n\nThis crime, committed in open day, and in so public a place as a\ncabaret, filled Paris with consternation. The trial of the assassins\ncommenced on the following day, and the evidence being so clear, they\nwere both found guilty and condemned to be broken alive on the wheel.\nThe noble relatives of the Count d'Horn absolutely blocked up the\nante-chambers of the Regent, praying for mercy on the misguided youth,\nand alleging that he was insane. The Regent avoided them as long as\npossible, being determined that, in a case so atrocious, justice should\ntake its course; but the importunity of these influential suitors was\nnot to be overcome so silently, and they at last forced themselves into\nthe presence of the Regent, and prayed him to save their house the shame\nof a public execution. They hinted that the Princes d'Horn were allied\nto the illustrious family of Orleans, and added that the Regent himself\nwould be disgraced if a kinsman of his should die by the hands of a\ncommon executioner. The Regent, to his credit, was proof against all\ntheir solicitations, and replied to their last argument in the words of\nCorneille,--\n\n     \"Le crime fait la honte, et non pas l'echafaud:\"\n\nadding, that whatever shame there might be in the punishment he would\nvery willingly share with the other relatives. Day after day they\nrenewed their entreaties, but always with the same result. At last\nthey thought that if they could interest the Duke de St. Simon in\ntheir layout, a man for whom the Regent felt sincere esteem, they might\nsucceed in their object. The Duke, a thorough aristocrat, was as shocked\nas they were, that a noble assassin should die by the same death as a\nplebeian felon, and represented to the Regent the impolicy of making\nenemies of so numerous, wealthy, and powerful a family. He urged, too,\nthat in Germany, where the family of D'Aremberg had large possessions,\nit was the law, that no relative of a person broken on the wheel could\nsucceed to any public office or employ until a whole generation had\npassed away. For this reason he thought the punishment of the guilty\nCount might be transmuted into beheading, which was considered all over\nEurope as much less infamous. The Regent was moved by this argument, and\nwas about to consent, when Law, who felt peculiarly interested in the\nfate of the murdered man, confirmed him in his former resolution, to let\nthe law take its course.\n\nThe relatives of D'Horn were now reduced to the last extremity. The\nPrince de Robec Montmorency, despairing of other methods, found means\nto penetrate into the dungeon of the criminal, and offering him a cup of\npoison, implored him to save them from disgrace. The Count d'Horn turned\naway his head, and refused to take it. Montmorency pressed him once\nmore, and losing all patience at his continued refusal, turned on his\nheel, and exclaiming, \"Die, then, as thou wilt, mean-spirited wretch!\nthou art fit only to perish by the hands of the hangman!\" left him to\nhis fate.\n\nD'Horn himself petitioned the Regent that he might be beheaded, but Law,\nwho exercised more influence over his mind than any other person, with\nthe exception of the notorious Abbe Dubois, his tutor, insisted that\nhe could not in justice succumb to the self-interested views of the\nD'Horns. The Regent had from the first been of the same opinion, and\nwithin six days after the commission of their crime, D'Horn and Mille\nwere broken on the wheel in the Place de Greve. The other assassin,\nLestang, was never apprehended.\n\nThis prompt and severe justice was highly pleasing to the populace of\nParis; even M. de Quincampoix, as they called Law, came in for a share\nof their approbation for having induced the Regent to show no favour\nto a patrician. But the number of robberies and assassinations did\nnot diminish. No sympathy was shown for rich jobbers when they were\nplundered: the general laxity of public morals, conspicuous enough\nbefore, was rendered still more so by its rapid pervasion of the middle\nclasses, who had hitherto remained comparatively pure, between the open\nvices of the class above and the hidden crimes of the class below them.\nThe pernicious love of gambling diffused itself through society, and\nbore all public, and nearly all private, virtue before it.\n\nFor a time, while confidence lasted, an impetus was given to trade,\nwhich could not fail to be beneficial. In Paris, especially, the good\nresults were felt. Strangers flocked into the capital from every part,\nbent, not only upon making money, but on spending it. The Duchess of\nOrleans, mother of the Regent, computes the increase of the population\nduring this time, from the great influx of strangers from all parts of\nthe world, at 305,000 souls. The housekeepers were obliged to make up\nbeds in garrets, kitchens, and even stables, for the accommodation of\nlodgers; and the town was so full of carriages and vehicles of every\ndescription, that they were obliged in the principal streets to drive at\na foot-pace for fear of accidents. The looms of the country worked with\nunusual activity, to supply rich laces, silks, broad-cloth, and velvets,\nwhich being paid for in abundant paper, increased in price four-fold.\nProvisions shared the general advance; bread, meat, and vegetables were\nsold at prices greater than had ever before been known; while the wages\nof labour rose in exactly the same proportion. The artisan, who formerly\ngained fifteen sous per diem, now gained sixty. New houses were built\nin every direction; an illusory prosperity shone over the land, and so\ndazzled the eyes of the whole nation that none could see the dark cloud\non the horizon, announcing the storm that was too rapidly approaching.\n\nLaw himself, the magician whose wand had wrought so surprising a change,\nshared, of course, in the general prosperity. His wife and daughter were\ncourted by the highest nobility, and their alliance sought by the\nheirs of ducal and princely houses. He bought two splendid estates\nin different parts of France, and entered into a negotiation with the\nfamily of the Duke de Sully for the purchase of the Marquisate of Rosny.\nHis religion being an obstacle to his advancement, the Regent promised,\nif he would publicly conform to the Catholic faith, to make him\ncomptroller-general of the finances. Law, who had no more real religion\nthan any other professed gambler, readily agreed, and was confirmed by\nthe Abbe de Tencin in the cathedral of Melun, in presence of a great\ncrowd of spectators.\n\n[The following squib was circulated on the occasion:--\n\n     \"Foin de ton zele seraphique,\n     Malheureux Abbe de Tencin,\n     Depuis que Law est Catholique,\n     Tout le royaume est Capucin\n\nThus, somewhat weakly and paraphrastically rendered by Justansond, in\nhis translation of the \"Memoirs of Louis XV:\"--\n\n     \"Tencin, a curse on thy seraphic zeal,\n     Which by persuasion hath contrived the means\n     To make the Scotchman at our altars kneel,\n     Since which we all are poor as Capucines?]\n\nOn the following day he was elected honorary churchwarden of the parish\nof St. Roch, upon which occasion he made it a present of the sum of five\nhundred thousand livres. His charities, always magnificent, were not\nalways so ostentatious. He gave away great sums privately, and no tale\nof real distress ever reached his ears in vain.\n\nAt this time, he was by far the most influential person of the state.\nThe Duke of Orleans had so much confidence in his sagacity, and the\nsuccess of his plans, that he always consulted him upon every matter\nof moment. He was by no means unduly elevated by his prosperity, but\nremained the same simple, affable, sensible man that he had shown\nhimself in adversity. His gallantry, which was always delightful to the\nfair objects of it, was of a nature, so kind, so gentlemanly, and so\nrespectful, that not even a lover could have taken offence at it. If\nupon any occasion he showed any symptoms of haughtiness, it was to the\ncringing nobles, who lavished their adulation upon him till it became\nfulsome. He often took pleasure in seeing how long he could make them\ndance attendance upon him for a single favour. To such of his own\ncountrymen as by chance visited Paris, and sought an interview with him,\nhe was, on the contrary, all politeness and attention. When Archibald\nCampbell, Earl of Islay, and afterwards Duke of Argyle, called upon him\nin the Place Vendome, he had to pass through an ante-chamber crowded\nwith persons of the first distinction, all anxious to see the great\nfinancier, and have their names put down as first on the list of some\nnew subscription. Law himself was quietly sitting in his library,\nwriting a letter to the gardener at his paternal estate of Lauriston\nabout the planting of some cabbages! The Earl stayed for a considerable\ntime, played a game of piquet with his countryman, and left him, charmed\nwith his ease, good sense, and good breeding.\n\nAmong the nobles who, by means of the public credulity at this time,\ngained sums sufficient to repair their ruined fortunes, may be mentioned\nthe names of the Dukes de Bourbon, de Guiche, de la Force [The Duke de\nla Force gained considerable sums, not only by jobbing in the stocks,\nbut in dealing in porcelain, spices, &c. It was debated for a length of\ntime in the Parliament of Paris whether he had not, in his quality of\nspice-merchant, forfeited his rank in the peerage. It was decided in\nthe negative. A caricature of him was made, dressed as a street porter,\ncarrying a large bale of spices on his back, with the inscription,\n\"Admirez La Force.\"], de Chaulnes, and d'Antin; the Marechal d'Estrees,\nthe Princes de Rohan, de Poix, and de Leon. The Duke de Bourbon, son\nof Louis XIV by Madame de Montespan, was peculiarly fortunate in his\nspeculations in Mississippi paper. He rebuilt the royal residence of\nChantilly in a style of unwonted magnificence, and, being passionately\nfond of horses, he erected a range of stables, which were long renowned\nthroughout Europe, and imported a hundred and fifty of the finest racers\nfrom England, to improve the breed in France. He bought a large extent\nof country in Picardy, and became possessed of nearly all the valuable\nlands lying between the Oise and the Somme.\n\nWhen fortunes such as these were gained, it is no wonder that Law should\nhave been almost worshipped by the mercurial population. Never was\nmonarch more flattered than he was. All the small poets and litterateurs\nof the day poured floods of adulation upon him. According to them he was\nthe saviour of the country, the tutelary divinity of France; wit was in\nall his words, goodness in all his looks, and wisdom in all his actions.\nSo great a crowd followed his carriage whenever he went abroad, that the\nRegent sent him a troop of horse as his permanent escort, to clear the\nstreets before him.\n\nIt was remarked at this time, that Paris had never before been so full\nof objects of elegance and luxury. Statues, pictures, and tapestries\nwere imported in great quantities from foreign countries, and found\na ready market. All those pretty trifles in the way of furniture and\nornament which the French excel in manufacturing, were no longer the\nexclusive play-things of the aristocracy, but were to be found in\nabundance in the houses of traders and the middle classes in general.\nJewellery of the most costly description was brought to Paris as the\nmost favourable mart. Among the rest, the famous diamond, bought by\nthe Regent, and called by his name, and which long adorned the crown of\nFrance. It was purchased for the sum of two millions of livres, under\ncircumstances which show that the Regent was not so great a gainer as\nsome of his subjects, by the impetus which trade had received. When\nthe diamond was first offered to him, he refused to buy it, although he\ndesired, above all things, to possess it, alleging as his reason, that\nhis duty to the country he governed would not allow him to spend\nso large a sum of the public money for a mere jewel. This valid and\nhonourable excuse threw all the ladies of the court into alarm, and\nnothing was heard for some days but expressions of regret, that so rare\na gem should be allowed to go out of France; no private individual being\nrich enough to buy it. The Regent was continually importuned about it;\nbut all in vain, until the Duke de St. Simon, who, with all his ability,\nwas something of a twaddler, undertook the weighty business. His\nentreaties, being seconded by Law, the good-natured Regent gave his\nconsent, leaving to Law's ingenuity to find the means to pay for it. The\nowner took security for the payment of the sum of two millions of livres\nwithin a stated period, receiving, in the mean time, the interest of\nfive per cent. upon that amount, and being allowed, besides, all the\nvaluable clippings of the gem. St. Simon, in his Memoirs, relates, with\nno little complacency, his share in this transaction. After describing\nthe diamond to be as large as a greengage, of a form nearly round,\nperfectly white, and without flaw, and weighing more than five hundred\ngrains, he concludes with a chuckle, by telling the world, \"that he\ntakes great credit to himself for having induced the Regent to make\nso illustrious a purchase.\" In other words, he was proud that he had\ninduced him to sacrifice his duty, and buy a bauble for himself, at an\nextravagant price, out of the public money.\n\nThus the system continued to flourish till the commencement of the year\n1720. The warnings of the Parliament, that too great a creation of paper\nmoney would, sooner or later, bring the country to bankruptcy, were\ndisregarded. The Regent, who knew nothing whatever of the philosophy\nof finance, thought that a system which had produced such good effects\ncould never be carried to excess. If five hundred millions of paper had\nbeen of such advantage, five hundred millions additional would be of\nstill greater advantage. This was the grand error of the Regent, and\nwhich Law did not attempt to dispel. The extraordinary avidity of the\npeople kept up the delusion; and the higher the price of Indian and\nMississippi stock, the more billets de banque were issued to keep pace\nwith it. The edifice thus reared might not unaptly be compared to the\ngorgeous palace erected by Potemkin, that princely barbarian of Russia,\nto surprise and please his imperial mistress: huge blocks of ice were\npiled one upon another; ionic pillars, of chastest workmanship, in ice,\nformed a noble portico; and a dome, of the same material, shone in the\nsun, which had just strength enough to gild, but not to melt it. It\nglittered afar, like a palace of crystals and diamonds; but there came\none warm breeze from the south, and the stately building dissolved away,\ntill none were able even to gather up the fragments. So with Law and his\npaper system. No sooner did the breath of popular mistrust blow steadily\nupon it, than it fell to ruins, and none could raise it up again.\n\nThe first slight alarm that was occasioned was early in 1720. The Prince\nde Conti, offended that Law should have denied him fresh shares in India\nstock, at his own price, sent to his bank to demand payment in specie\nof so enormous a quantity of notes, that three waggons were required for\nits transport. Law complained to the Regent, and urged on his attention\nthe mischief that would be done, if such an example found many\nimitators. The Regent was but too well aware of it, and, sending for the\nPrince de Conti, ordered him, under penalty of his high displeasure, to\nrefund to the Bank two-thirds of the specie which he had withdrawn from\nit. The Prince was forced to obey the despotic mandate. Happily for\nLaw's credit, De Conti was an unpopular man: everybody condemned his\nmeanness and cupidity, and agreed that Law had been hardly treated. It\nis strange, however, that so narrow an escape should not have made both\nLaw and the Regent more anxious to restrict their issues. Others were\nsoon found who imitated, from motives of distrust, the example which had\nbeen set by De Conti in revenge. The more acute stockjobbers imagined\njustly that prices could not continue to rise for ever. Bourdon and\nLa Richardiere, renowned for their extensive operations in the funds,\nquietly and in small quantities at a time, converted their notes into\nspecie, and sent it away to foreign countries. They also bought as much\nas they could conveniently carry of plate and expensive jewellery, and\nsent it secretly away to England or to Holland. Vermalet, a jobber, who\nsniffed the coming storm, procured gold and silver coin to the amount\nof nearly a million of livres, which he packed in a farmer's cart, and\ncovered over with hay and cow-dung. He then disguised himself in the\ndirty smock-frock, or blouse, of a peasant, and drove his precious load\nin safety into Belgium. From thence he soon found means to transport it\nto Amsterdam.\n\nHitherto no difficulty had been experienced by any class in procuring\nspecie for their wants. But this system could not long be carried on\nwithout causing a scarcity. The voice of complaint was heard on every\nside, and inquiries being instituted, the cause was soon discovered. The\ncouncil debated long on the remedies to be taken, and Law, being called\non for his advice, was of opinion, that an edict should be published,\ndepreciating the value of coin five per cent. below that of paper. The\nedict was published accordingly; but, failing of its intended effect,\nwas followed by another, in which the depreciation was increased to ten\nper cent. The payments of the bank were at the same time restricted to\none hundred livres in gold, and ten in silver. All these measures were\nnugatory to restore confidence in the paper, though the restriction of\ncash payments within limits so extremely narrow kept up the credit of\nthe Bank.\n\nNotwithstanding every effort to the contrary, the precious metals\ncontinued to be conveyed to England and Holland. The little coin that\nwas left in the country was carefully treasured, or hidden until the\nscarcity became so great, that the operations of trade could no longer\nbe carried on. In this emergency, Law hazarded the bold experiment of\nforbidding the use of specie altogether. In February 1720 an edict was\npublished, which, instead of restoring the credit of the paper, as was\nintended, destroyed it irrecoverably, and drove the country to the very\nbrink of revolution. By this famous edict it was forbidden to any person\nwhatever to have more than five hundred livres (20 pounds sterling) of\ncoin in his possession, under pain of a heavy fine, and confiscation of\nthe sums found. It was also forbidden to buy up jewellery, plate,\nand precious stones, and informers were encouraged to make search for\noffenders, by the promise of one-half the amount they might discover.\nThe whole country sent up a cry of distress at this unheard-of tyranny.\nThe most odious persecution daily took place. The privacy of families\nwas violated by the intrusion of informers and their agents. The most\nvirtuous and honest were denounced for the crime of having been seen\nwith a louis d'or in their possession. Servants betrayed their\nmasters, one citizen became a spy upon his neighbour, and arrests and\nconfiscations so multiplied, that the courts found a difficulty in\ngetting through the immense increase of business thus occasioned. It\nwas sufficient for an informer to say that he suspected any person of\nconcealing money in his house, and immediately a search-warrant was\ngranted. Lord Stair, the English ambassador, said, that it was now\nimpossible to doubt of the sincerity of Law's conversion to the Catholic\nreligion; he had established the inquisition, after having given\nabundant evidence of his faith in transubstantiation, by turning so much\ngold into paper.\n\nEvery epithet that popular hatred could suggest was showered upon the\nRegent and the unhappy Law. Coin, to any amount above five hundred\nlivres, was an illegal tender, and nobody would take paper if he could\nhelp it. No one knew to-day what his notes would be worth to-morrow.\n\"Never,\" says Duclos, in his Secret Memoirs of the Regency, \"was seen a\nmore capricious government-never was a more frantic tyranny exercised by\nhands less firm. It is inconceivable to those who were witnesses of the\nhorrors of those times, and who look back upon them now as on a dream,\nthat a sudden revolution did not break out--that Law and the Regent did\nnot perish by a tragical death. They were both held in horror, but the\npeople confined themselves to complaints; a sombre and timid despair, a\nstupid consternation, had seized upon all, and men's minds were too vile\neven to be capable of a courageous crime.\" It would appear that, at one\ntime, a movement of the people was organised. Seditious writings were\nposted up against the walls, and were sent, in hand-bills, to the houses\nof the most conspicuous people. One of them, given in the \"Memoires de\nla Regence,\" was to the following effect:--\"Sir and Madam,--This is to\ngive you notice that a St. Bartholomew's Day will be enacted again on\nSaturday and Sunday, if affairs do not alter. You are desired not to\nstir out, nor you, nor your servants. God preserve you from the flames!\nGive notice to your neighbours. Dated Saturday, May 25th, 1720.\" The\nimmense number of spies with which the city was infested rendered the\npeople mistrustful of one another, and beyond some trifling disturbances\nmade in the evening by an insignificant group, which was soon dispersed,\nthe peace of the capital was not compromised.\n\nThe value of shares in the Louisiana, or Mississippi stock, had fallen\nvery rapidly, and few indeed were found to believe the tales that had\nonce been told of the immense wealth of that region. A last effort was\ntherefore tried to restore the public confidence in the Mississippi\nproject. For this purpose, a general conscription of all the poor\nwretches in Paris was made by order of government. Upwards of six\nthousand of the very refuse of the population were impressed, as if in\ntime of war, and were provided with clothes and tools to be embarked\nfor New Orleans, to work in the gold mines alleged to abound there.\nThey were paraded day after day through the streets with their pikes and\nshovels, and then sent off in small detachments to the out-ports to be\nshipped for America. Two-thirds of them never reached their destination,\nbut dispersed themselves over the country, sold their tools for what\nthey could get, and returned to their old course of life. In less than\nthree weeks afterwards, one-half of them were to be found again in\nParis. The manoeuvre, however, caused a trifling advance in Mississippi\nstock. Many persons of superabundant gullibility believed that\noperations had begun in earnest in the new Golconda, and that gold and\nsilver ingots would again be found in France.\n\nIn a constitutional monarchy some surer means would have been found for\nthe restoration of public credit. In England, at a subsequent period,\nwhen a similar delusion had brought on similar distress, how\ndifferent were the measures taken to repair the evil; but in France,\nunfortunately, the remedy was left to the authors of the mischief.\nThe arbitrary will of the Regent, which endeavoured to extricate the\ncountry, only plunged it deeper into the mire. All payments were ordered\nto be made in paper, and between the 1st of February and the end of\nMay, notes were fabricated to the amount of upwards of 1500 millions of\nlivres, or 60,000,000 pounds sterling. But the alarm once sounded, no\nart could make the people feel the slightest confidence in paper which\nwas not exchangeable into metal. M. Lambert, the President of the\nParliament of Paris, told the Regent to his face that he would rather\nhave a hundred thousand livres in gold or silver than five millions\nin the notes of his bank. When such was the general feeling, the\nsuperabundant issues of paper but increased the evil, by rendering still\nmore enormous the disparity between the amount of specie and notes in\ncirculation. Coin, which it was the object of the Regent to depreciate,\nrose in value on every fresh attempt to diminish it. In February, it\nwas judged advisable that the Royal Bank should be incorporated with\nthe Company of the Indies. An edict to that effect was published and\nregistered by the Parliament. The state remained the guarantee for the\nnotes of the bank, and no more were to be issued without an order in\ncouncil. All the profits of the bank, since the time it had been taken\nout of Law's hands and made a national institution, were given over by\nthe Regent to the Company of the Indies. This measure had the effect of\nraising for a short time the value of the Louisiana and other shares\nof the company, but it failed in placing public credit on any permanent\nbasis.\n\nA council of state was held in the beginning of May, at which Law,\nD'Argenson (his colleague in the administration of the finances), and\nall the ministers were present. It was then computed that the total\namount of notes in circulation was 2600 millions of livres, while the\ncoin in the country was not quite equal to half that amount. It was\nevident to the majority of the council that some plan must be adopted to\nequalise the currency. Some proposed that the notes should be reduced to\nthe value of the specie, while others proposed that the nominal value of\nthe specie should be raised till it was on an equality with the\npaper. Law is said to have opposed both these projects, but failing in\nsuggesting any other, it was agreed that the notes should be depreciated\none-half. On the 21st of May, an edict was accordingly issued, by which\nit was decreed that the shares of the Company of the Indies, and the\nnotes of the bank, should gradually diminish in value, till at the end\nof a year they should only pass current for one half of their nominal\nworth. The Parliament refused to register the edict--the greatest outcry\nwas excited, and the state of the country became so alarming, that, as\nthe only means of preserving tranquillity, the council of the regency\nwas obliged to stultify its own proceedings, by publishing within seven\ndays another edict, restoring the notes to their original value.\n\nOn the same day (the 27th of May) the bank stopped payment in specie.\nLaw and D'Argenson were both dismissed from the ministry. The weak,\nvacillating, and cowardly Regent threw the blame of all the mischief\nupon Law, who, upon presenting himself at the Palais Royal, was refused\nadmitance. At nightfall, however, he was sent for, and admitted into the\npalace by a secret door,[Duclos, Memoires Secrets de la Regence.] when\nthe Regent endeavoured to console him, and made all manner of excuses\nfor the severity with which in public he had been compelled to treat\nhim. So capricious was his conduct, that, two days afterwards, he took\nhim publicly to the opera, where he sat in the royal box, alongside of\nthe Regent, who treated him with marked consideration in face of all the\npeople. But such was the hatred against Law that the experiment had well\nnigh proved fatal to him. The mob assailed his carriage with stones\njust as he was entering his own door; and if the coachman had not made\na sudden jerk into the court-yard, and the domestics closed the gate\nimmediately, he would, in all probability, have been dragged out and\ntorn to pieces. On the following day, his wife and daughter were also\nassailed by the mob as they were returning in their carriage from the\nraces. When the Regent was informed of these occurrences he sent Law a\nstrong detachment of Swiss guards, who were stationed night and day in\nthe court of his residence. The public indignation at last increased so\nmuch, that Law, finding his own house, even with this guard, insecure,\ntook refuge in the Palais Royal, in the apartments of the Regent.\n\nThe Chancellor, D'Aguesseau, who had been dismissed in 1718 for his\nopposition to the projects of Law, was now recalled to aid in the\nrestoration of credit. The Regent acknowledged too late, that he had\ntreated with unjustifiable harshness and mistrust one of the ablest,\nand perhaps the sole honest public man of that corrupt period. He had\nretired ever since his disgrace to his country-house at Fresnes, where,\nin the midst of severe but delightful philosophic studies, he had\nforgotten the intrigues of an unworthy court. Law himself, and the\nChevalier de Conflans, a gentleman of the Regent's household, were\ndespatched in a post-chaise, with orders to bring the ex-chancellor to\nParis along with them. D'Aguesseau consented to render what assistance\nhe could, contrary to the advice of his friends, who did not approve\nthat he should accept any recall to office of which Law was the bearer.\nOn his arrival in Paris, five counsellors of the Parliament were\nadmitted to confer with the Commissary of Finance, and on the 1st of\nJune an order was published, abolishing the law which made it criminal\nto amass coin to the amount of more than five hundred livres. Every one\nwas permitted to have as much specie as he pleased. In order that the\nbank-notes might be withdrawn, twenty-five millions of new notes were\ncreated, on the security of the revenues of the city of Paris, at\ntwo-and-a-half per cent. The bank-notes withdrawn were publicly burned\nin front of the Hotel de Ville. The new notes were principally of\nthe value of ten livres each; and on the 10th of June the bank was\nre-opened, with a sufficiency of silver coin to give in change for them.\n\nThese measures were productive of considerable advantage. All the\npopulation of Paris hastened to the bank, to get coin for their small\nnotes; and silver becoming scarce, they were paid in copper. Very few\ncomplained that this was too heavy, although poor fellows might be\ncontinually seen toiling and sweating along the streets, laden with\nmore than they could comfortably carry, in the shape of change for fifty\nlivres. The crowds around the bank were so great, that hardly a day\npassed that some one was not pressed to death. On the 9th of July, the\nmultitude was so dense and clamorous that the guards stationed at the\nentrance of the Mazarin Gardens closed the gate, and refused to admit\nany more. The crowd became incensed, and flung stones through the\nrailings upon the soldiers. The latter, incensed in their turn,\nthreatened to fire upon the people. At that instant one of them was hit\nby a stone, and, taking up his piece, he fired into the crowd. One man\nfell dead immediately, and another was severely wounded. It was every\ninstant expected that a general attack would have been commenced upon\nthe bank; but the gates of the Mazarin Gardens being opened to the\ncrowd, who saw a whole troop of soldiers, with their bayonets fixed,\nready to receive them, they contented themselves by giving vent to their\nindignation in groans and hisses.\n\nEight days afterwards the concourse of people was so tremendous, that\nfifteen persons were squeezed to death at the doors of the bank.\nThe people were so indignant that they took three of the bodies on\nstretchers before them, and proceeded, to the number of seven or eight\nthousand, to the gardens of the Palais Royal, that they might show the\nRegent the misfortunes that he and Law had brought upon the country.\nLaw's coachman, who was sitting on the box of his master's carriage,\nin the court-yard of the palace, happened to have more zeal than\ndiscretion, and, not liking that the mob should abuse his master, he\nsaid, loud enough to be overheard by several persons, that they were\nall blackguards, and deserved to be hanged. The mob immediately set upon\nhim, and, thinking that Law was in the carriage, broke it to pieces. The\nimprudent coachman narrowly escaped with his life. No further mischief\nwas done; a body of troops making their appearance, the crowd quietly\ndispersed, after an assurance had been given by the Regent that the\nthree bodies they had brought to show him should be decently buried at\nhis own expense. The Parliament was sitting at the time of this uproar,\nand the President took upon himself to go out and see what was the\nmatter. On his return he informed the councillors, that Law's carriage\nhad been broken by the mob. All the members rose simultaneously, and\nexpressed their joy by a loud shout, while one man, more zealous in\nhis hatred than the rest, exclaimed, \"And Law himself, is he torn to\npieces?\" [The Duchess of Orleans gives a different version of this\nstory; but whichever be the true one, the manifestation of such feeling\nin a legislative assembly was not very creditable. She says, that the\nPresident was so transported with joy, that he was seized with a rhyming\nfit, and, returning into the hall, exclaimed to the members:--\n\n     \"Messieurs! Messieurs! bonne nouvelle!\n     Le carfosse de Lass est reduit en canelle!\"]\n\nMuch undoubtedly depended on the credit of the Company of the Indies,\nwhich was answerable for so great a sum to the nation. It was,\ntherefore, suggested in the council of the ministry, that any privileges\nwhich could be granted to enable it to fulfil its engagements, would be\nproductive of the best results. With this end in view, it was proposed\nthat the exclusive privilege of all maritime commerce should be\nsecured to it, and an edict to that effect was published. But it was\nunfortunately forgotten that by such a measure all the merchants of\nthe country would be ruined. The idea of such an immense privilege was\ngenerally scouted by the nation, and petition on petition was presented\nto the Parliament, that they would refuse to register the decree. They\nrefused accordingly, and the Regent, remarking that they did nothing but\nfan the flame of sedition, exiled them to Blois. At the intercession\nof D'Aguesseau, the place of banishment was changed to Pontoise, and\nthither accordingly the councillors repaired, determined to set the\nRegent at defiance. They made every arrangement for rendering their\ntemporary exile as agreeable as possible. The President gave the most\nelegant suppers, to which he invited all the gayest and wittiest company\nof Paris. Every night there was a concert and ball for the ladies. The\nusually grave and solemn judges and councillors joined in cards\nand other diversions, leading for several weeks a life of the most\nextravagant pleasure, for no other purpose than to show the Regent of\nhow little consequence they deemed their banishment, and that when they\nwilled it, they could make Pontoise a pleasanter residence than Paris.\n\nOf all the nations in the world the French are the most renowned for\nsinging over their grievances. Of that country it has been remarked with\nsome truth, that its whole history may be traced in its songs. When Law,\nby the utter failure of his best-laid plans, rendered himself obnoxious,\nsatire of course seized hold upon him, and, while caricatures of his\nperson appeared in all the shops, the streets resounded with songs, in\nwhich neither he nor the Regent was spared. Many of these songs were far\nfrom decent; and one of them in particular counselled the application of\nall his notes to the most ignoble use to which paper can be applied. But\nthe following, preserved in the letters of the Duchess of Orleans, was\nthe best and the most popular, and was to be heard for months in all the\ncarrefours of Paris. The application of the chorus is happy enough:--\n\n     Aussitot que Lass arriva\n     Dans notre bonne ville,\n     Monsieur le Regent publia\n     Que Lass serait utile\n     Pour retablir la nation.\n     La faridondaine! la faridondon.\n     Mais il nous a tous enrich!,\n     Biribi!\n     A la facon de Barbari,\n     Mort ami!\n\n     Ce parpaillot, pour attirer\n     Tout l'argent de la France,\n     Songea d'abord a s'assurer\n     De notre confiance.\n     Il fit son abjuration.\n     La faridondaine! la faridondon!\n     Mais le fourbe s'est converti,\n     Biribi!\n     A la facon de Barbari,\n     Mon ami!\n\n     Lass, le fils aine de Satan\n     Nous met tous a l'aumone,\n     Il nous a pris tout notre argent\n     Et n'en rend a personne.\n     Mais le Regent, humain et bon,\n     La faridondaine! la faridondon!\n     Nous rendra ce qu'on nous a pris,\n     Biribi!\n     A la facon de Barbari,\n     Mon ami!\n\nThe following smart epigram is of the same date:--\n\n     Lundi, j'achetai des actions;\n     Mardi, je gagnai des millions;\n     Mercredi, j'arrangeai mon menage,\n     Jeudi, je pris un equipage,\n     Vendredi, je m'en fus au bal,\n     Et Samedi, a l'Hopital.\n\nAmong the caricatures that were abundantly published, and that showed\nas plainly as graver matters, that the nation had awakened to a sense of\nits folly, was one, a fac-simile of which is preserved in the \"Memoires\nde la Regence.\" It was thus described by its author: \"The 'Goddess of\nShares,\" in her triumphal car, driven by the Goddess of Folly. Those\nwho are drawing the car are impersonations of the Mississippi, with his\nwooden leg, the South Sea, the Bank of England, the Company of the West\nof Senegal, and of various assurances. Lest the car should not roll fast\nenough, the agents of these companies, known by their long fox-tails and\ntheir cunning looks, turn round the spokes of the wheels, upon which are\nmarked the names of the several stocks, and their value, sometimes high\nand sometimes low, according to the turns of the wheel. Upon the ground\nare the merchandise, day-books and ledgers of legitimate commerce,\ncrushed under the chariot of Folly. Behind is an immense crowd of\npersons, of all ages, sexes, and conditions, clamoring after Fortune,\nand fighting with each other to get a portion of the shares which she\ndistributes so bountifully among them. In the clouds sits a demon,\nblowing bubbles of soap, which are also the objects of the admiration\nand cupidity of the crowd, who jump upon one another's backs to reach\nthem ere they burst. Right in the pathway of the car, and blocking up\nthe passage, stands a large building, with three doors, through one of\nwhich it must pass, if it proceeds further, and all the crowd along\nwith it. Over the first door are the words, \"Hopital des Foux,\" over the\nsecond, \"Hopital des Malades,\" and over the third, \"Hopital des Gueux.\"\nAnother caricature represented Law sitting in a large cauldron,\nboiling over the flames of popular madness, surrounded by an impetuous\nmultitude, who were pouring all their gold and silver into it, and\nreceiving gladly in exchange the bits of paper which he distributed\namong them by handsfull.\n\nWhile this excitement lasted, Law took good care not to expose himself\nunguarded in the streets. Shut up in the apartments of the Regent, he\nwas secure from all attack, and, whenever he ventured abroad, it was\neither incognito, or in one of the Royal carriages, with a powerful\nescort. An amusing anecdote is recorded of the detestation in which he\nwas held by the people, and the ill treatment he would have met, had\nhe fallen into their hands. A gentleman, of the name of Boursel, was\npassing in his carriage down the Rue St. Antoine, when his further\nprogress was stayed by a hackneycoach that had blocked up the road. M.\nBoursel's servant called impatiently to the hackneycoachman to get out\nof the way, and, on his refusal, struck him a blow on the face. A crowd\nwas soon drawn together by the disturbance, and M. Boursel got out of\nthe carriage to restore order. The hackney-coachman, imagining that he\nhad now another assailant, bethought him of an expedient to rid himself\nof both, and called out as loudly as he was able, \"Help! help! murder!\nmurder! Here are Law and his servant going to kill me! Help! help!\"\nAt this cry, the people came out of their shops, armed with sticks\nand other weapons, while the mob gathered stones to inflict summary\nvengeance upon the supposed financier. Happily for M. Boursel and his\nservant, the door of the church of the Jesuits stood wide open, and,\nseeing the fearful odds against them, they rushed towards it with all\nspeed. They reached the altar, pursued by the people, and would have\nbeen ill treated even there, if, finding the door open leading to the\nsacristy, they had not sprang through, and closed it after them. The\nmob were then persuaded to leave the church by the alarmed and indignant\npriests; and, finding M. Boursel's carriage still in the streets, they\nvented their ill-will against it, and did it considerable damage.\n\nThe twenty-five millions secured on the municipal revenues of the city\nof Paris, bearing so low an interest as two and a half per cent., were\nnot very popular among the large holders of Mississippi stock. The\nconversion of the securities was, therefore, a work of considerable\ndifficulty; for many preferred to retain the falling paper of Law's\nCompany, in the hope that a favourable turn might take place. On the\n15th of August, with a view to hasten the conversion, an edict was\npassed, declaring that all notes for sums between one thousand and ten\nthousand livres; should not pass current, except for the purchase of\nannuities and bank accounts, or for the payment of instalments still due\non the shares of the company.\n\nIn October following another edict was passed, depriving these notes\nof all value whatever after the month of November next ensuing. The\nmanagement of the mint, the farming of the revenue, and all the other\nadvantages and privileges of the India, or Mississippi Company, were\ntaken from them, and they were reduced to a mere private company. This\nwas the deathblow to the whole system, which had now got into the hands\nof its enemies. Law had lost all influence in the Council of Finance,\nand the company, being despoiled of its immunities, could no longer hold\nout the shadow of a prospect of being able to fulfil its engagements.\nAll those suspected of illegal profits at the time the public delusion\nwas at its height, were sought out and amerced in heavy fines. It was\npreviously ordered that a list of the original proprietors should be\nmade out, and that such persons as still retained their shares should\nplace them in deposit with the company, and that those who had neglected\nto complete the shares for which they had put down their names, should\nnow purchase them of the company, at the rate of 13,500 livres for each\nshare of 500 livres. Rather than submit to pay this enormous sum for\nstock which was actually at a discount, the shareholders packed up all\ntheir portable effects, and endeavoured to find a refuge in foreign\ncountries. Orders were immediately issued to the authorities at the\nports and frontiers, to apprehend all travellers who sought to leave the\nkingdom, and keep them in custody, until it was ascertained whether\nthey had any plate or jewellery with them, or were concerned in the late\nstock-jobbing. Against such few as escaped, the punishment of death was\nrecorded, while the most arbitrary proceedings were instituted against\nthose who remained.\n\nLaw himself, in a moment of despair, determined to leave a country where\nhis life was no longer secure. He at first only demanded permission to\nretire from Paris to one of his country-seats; a permission which the\nRegent cheerfully granted. The latter was much affected at the unhappy\nturn affairs had taken, but his faith continued unmoved in the truth\nand efficacy of Law's financial system. His eyes were opened to his own\nerrors, and during the few remaining years of his life, he constantly\nlonged for an opportunity of again establishing the system upon a\nsecurer basis. At Law's last interview with the Prince, he is reported\nto have said--\"I confess that I have committed many faults; I committed\nthem because I am a man, and all men are liable to error; but I\ndeclare to you most solemnly that none of them proceeded from wicked\nor dishonest motives, and that nothing of the kind will be found in the\nwhole course of my conduct.\"\n\nTwo or three days after his departure the Regent sent him a very kind\nletter, permitting him to leave the kingdom whenever he pleased, and\nstating that he had ordered his passports to be made ready. He at\nthe same time offered him any sum of money he might require. Law\nrespectfully declined the money, and set out for Brussels in a\npostchaise belonging to Madame de Prie, the mistress of the Duke of\nBourbon, escorted by six horse-guards. From thence he proceeded to\nVenice, where he remained for some months, the object of the greatest\ncuriosity to the people, who believed him to be the possessor of\nenormous wealth. No opinion, however, could be more erroneous. With\nmore generosity than could have been expected from a man who during the\ngreatest part of his life had been a professed gambler, he had refused\nto enrich himself at the expense of a ruined nation. During the height\nof the popular frenzy for Mississippi stock, he had never doubted of\nthe final success of his projects, in making France the richest and most\npowerful nation of Europe. He invested all his gains in the purchase\nof landed property in France--a sure proof of his own belief in the\nstability of his schemes. He had hoarded no plate or jewellery, and sent\nno money, like the dishonest jobbers, to foreign countries. His all,\nwith the exception of one diamond, worth about five or six thousand\npounds sterling, was invested in the French soil; and when he left that\ncountry, he left it almost a beggar. This fact alone ought to rescue\nhis memory from the charge of knavery, so often and so unjustly brought\nagainst him.\n\nAs soon as his departure was known, all his estates and his valuable\nlibrary were confiscated. Among the rest, an annuity of 200,000 livres,\n(8000 pounds sterling,) on the lives of his wife and children, which\nhad been purchased for five millions of livres, was forfeited,\nnotwithstanding that a special edict, drawn up for the purpose in the\ndays of his prosperity, had expressly declared that it should never be\nconfiscated for any cause whatever. Great discontent existed among the\npeople that Law had been suffered to escape. The mob and the Parliament\nwould have been pleased to have seen him hanged. The few who had not\nsuffered by the commercial revolution, rejoiced that the quack had\nleft the country; but all those (and they were by far the most numerous\nclass) whose fortunes were implicated, regretted that his intimate\nknowledge of the distress of the country, and of the causes that had led\nto it, had not been rendered more available in discovering a remedy.\n\nAt a meeting of the Council of Finance, and the general council of the\nRegency, documents were laid upon the table, from which it appeared that\nthe amount of notes in circulation was 2700 millions. The Regent was\ncalled upon to explain how it happened that there was a discrepancy\nbetween the dates at which these issues were made, and those of the\nedicts by which they were authorised. He might have safely taken the\nwhole blame upon himself, but he preferred that an absent man should\nbear a share of it, and he therefore stated that Law, upon his own\nauthority, had issued 1200 millions of notes at different times, and\nthat he (the Regent) seeing that the thing had been irrevocably done,\nhad screened Law, by antedating the decrees of the council, which\nauthorised the augmentation. It would have been more to his credit if he\nhad told the whole truth while he was about it, and acknowledged that\nit was mainly through his extravagance and impatience that Law had\nbeen induced to overstep the bounds of safe speculation. It was also\nascertained that the national debt, on the 1st of January, 1721,\namounted to upwards of $100 millions of livres, or more than 124,000,000\npounds sterling, the interest upon which was 3,196,000 pounds. A\ncommission, or visa, was forthwith appointed to examine into all the\nsecurities of the state creditors, who were to be divided into five\nclasses, the first four comprising those who had purchased their\nsecurities with real effects, and the latter comprising those who could\ngive no proofs that the transactions they had entered into were real and\nbona fide. The securities of the latter were ordered to be destroyed,\nwhile those of the first four classes were subjected to a most rigid and\njealous scrutiny. The result of the labours of the visa was a report,\nin which they counselled the reduction of the interest upon these\nsecurities to fifty-six millions of livres. They justified this advice\nby a statement of the various acts of peculation and extortion which\nthey had discovered, and an edict to that effect was accordingly\npublished and duly registered by the parliaments of the kingdom.\n\nAnother tribunal was afterwards established, under the title of the\nChambre de l'Arsenal, which took cognizance of all the malversations\ncommitted in the financial departments of the government during the late\nunhappy period. A Master of Requests, named Falhonet, together with\nthe Abbe Clement, and two clerks in their employ, had been concerned\nin divers acts of peculation, to the amount of upwards of a million of\nlivres. The first two were sentenced to be beheaded, and the latter\nto be hanged; but their punishment was afterwards commuted into\nimprisonment for life in the Bastile. Numerous other acts of dishonesty\nwere discovered, and punished by fine and imprisonment.\n\nD'Argenson shared with Law and the Regent the unpopularity which had\nalighted upon all those concerned in the Mississippi madness. He was\ndismissed from his post of Chancellor, to make room for D'Aguesseau; but\nhe retained the title of Keeper of the Seals, and was allowed to attend\nthe councils whenever he pleased. He thought it better, however, to\nwithdraw from Paris, and live for a time a life of seclusion at his\ncountry-seat. But he was not formed for retirement, and becoming moody\nand discontented, he aggravated a disease under which he had long\nlaboured, and died in less than a twelvemonth. The populace of of Paris\nso detested him, that they carried their hatred even to his grave.\nAs his funeral procession passed to the church of St. Nicholas du\nChardonneret, the burying-place of his family, it was beset by a riotous\nmob, and his two sons, who were following as chief-mourners, were\nobliged to drive as fast as they were able down a by-street to escape\npersonal violence.\n\nAs regards Law, he for some time entertained a hope that he should be\nrecalled to France, to aid in establishing its credit upon a firmer\nbasis. The death of the Regent, in 1723, who expired suddenly, as he\nwas sitting by the fireside conversing with his mistress, the Duchess\nde Phalaris, deprived him of that hope, and he was reduced to lead\nhis former life of gambling. He was more than once obliged to pawn\nhis diamond, the sole remnant of his vast wealth, but successful play\ngenerally enabled him to redeem it. Being persecuted by his creditors at\nRome, he proceeded to Copenhagen, where he received permission from the\nEnglish ministry to reside in his native country, his pardon for the\nmurder of Mr. Wilson having been sent over to him in 1719. He was\nbrought over in the admiral's ship, a circumstance which gave occasion\nfor a short debate in the House of Lords. Earl Coningsby complained that\na man, who had renounced both his country and his religion, should\nhave been treated with such honour, and expressed his belief that his\npresence in England, at a time when the people were so bewildered by the\nnefarious practices of the South Sea directors, would be attended with\nno little danger. He gave notice of a motion on the subject; but it\nwas allowed to drop, no other member of the House having the slightest\nparticipation in his lordship's fears. Law remained for about four years\nin England, and then proceeded to Venice, where he died in 1729, in\nvery embarrassed circumstances. The following epitaph was written at the\ntime:--\n\n     \"Ci git cet Ecossais celebre,\n     Ce calculateur sans egal,\n     Qui, par les regles de l'algebre,\n     A mis la France a l'Hopital.\"\n\nHis brother, William Law, who had been concerned with him in the\nadministration both of the Bank and the Louisiana Company, was\nimprisoned in the Bastile for alleged malversation, but no guilt was\never proved against him. He was liberated after fifteen months, and\nbecame the founder of a family, which is still known in France under the\ntitle of Marquises of Lauriston.\n\nIn the next chapter will be found an account of the madness which\ninfected the people of England at the same time, and under very similar\ncircumstances, but which, thanks to the energies and good sense of a\nconstitutional government, was attended with results far less disastrous\nthan those which were seen in France.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SOUTH SEA BUBBLE\n\n     At length corruption, like a general flood,\n     Did deluge all, and avarice creeping on,\n     Spread, like a low-born mist, and hid the sun.\n     Statesmen and patriots plied alike the stocks,\n     Peeress and butler shared alike the box;\n     And judges jobbed, and bishops bit the town,\n     And mighty dukes packed cards for half-a-crown:\n     Britain was sunk in lucre's sordid charms.\n     --Pope.\n\nThe South Sea Company was originated by the celebrated Harley, Earl\nof Oxford, in the year 1711, with the view of restoring public credit,\nwhich had suffered by the dismissal of the Whig ministry, and of\nproviding for the discharge of the army and navy debentures, and other\nparts of the floating debt, amounting to nearly ten millions sterling.\nA company of merchants, at that time without a name, took this debt\nupon themselves, and the government agreed to secure them, for a certain\nperiod, the interest of six per cent. To provide for this interest,\namounting to 600,000 pounds per annum, the duties upon wines, vinegar,\nIndia goods, wrought silks, tobacco, whale-fins, and some other\narticles, were rendered permanent. The monopoly of the trade to the\nSouth Seas was granted, and the company, being incorporated by Act of\nParliament, assumed the title by which it has ever since been known. The\nminister took great credit to himself for his share in this transaction,\nand the scheme was always called by his flatterers \"the Earl of Oxford's\nmasterpiece.\"\n\nEven at this early period of its history, the most visionary ideas\nwere formed by the company and the public of the immense riches of the\neastern coast of South America. Everybody had heard of the gold\nand silver mines of Peru and Mexico; every one believed them to be\ninexhaustible, and that it was only necessary to send the manufactures\nof England to the coast, to be repaid a hundredfold in gold and silver\ningots by the natives. A report, industriously spread, that Spain was\nwilling to concede four ports, on the coasts of Chili and Peru, for\nthe purposes of traffic, increased the general confidence; and for many\nyears the South Sea Company's stock was in high favour.\n\nPhilip V of Spain, however, never had any intention of admitting the\nEnglish to a free trade in the ports of Spanish America. Negotiations\nwere set on foot, but their only result was the assiento contract, or\nthe privilege of supplying the colonies with negroes for thirty years,\nand of sending once a year a vessel, limited both as to tonnage and\nvalue of cargo, to trade with Mexico, Peru, or Chili. The latter\npermission was only granted upon the hard condition, that the King of\nSpain should enjoy one-fourth of the profits, and a tax of five per\ncent. on the remainder. This was a great disappointment to the Earl of\nOxford and his party, who were reminded much oftener than they found\nagreeable of the\n\n     \"Parturiunt montes, nascitur ridiculus mus.\"\n\nBut the public confidence in the South Sea Company was not shaken. The\nEarl of Oxford declared, that Spain would permit two ships, in addition\nto the annual ship, to carry out merchandise during the first year;\nand a list was published, in which all the ports and harbours of these\ncoasts were pompously set forth as open to the trade of Great Britain.\nThe first voyage of the annual ship was not made till the year 1717,\nand in the following year the trade was suppressed by the rupture with\nSpain.\n\nThe King's speech, at the opening of the session of 1717, made pointed\nallusion to the state of public credit, and recommended that proper\nmeasures should be taken to reduce the national debt. The two great\nmonetary corporations, the South Sea Company and the Bank of England,\nmade proposals to Parliament on the 20th of May ensuing. The South\nSea Company prayed that their capital stock of ten millions might be\nincreased to twelve, by subscription or otherwise, and offered to accept\nfive per cent. instead of six upon the whole amount. The Bank made\nproposals equally advantageous. The House debated for some time, and\nfinally three acts were passed, called the South Sea Act, the Bank Act,\nand the General Fund Act. By the first, the proposals of the South Sea\nCompany were accepted, and that body held itself ready to advance the\nsum of two millions towards discharging the principal and interest of\nthe debt due by the state for the four lottery funds of the ninth and\ntenth years of Queen Anne. By the second act, the Bank received a lower\nrate of interest for the sum of 1,775,027 pounds 15 shillings due to it\nby the state, and agreed to deliver up to be cancelled as many Exchequer\nbills as amounted to two millions sterling, and to accept of an annuity\nof one hundred thousand pounds, being after the rate of five per cent,\nthe whole redeemable at one year's notice. They were further required\nto be ready to advance, in case of need, a sum not exceeding 2,500,000\npounds upon the same terms of five per cent interest, redeemable by\nParliament. The General Fund Act recited the various deficiencies, which\nwere to be made good by the aids derived from the foregoing sources.\n\nThe name of the South Sea Company was thus continually before the\npublic. Though their trade with the South American States produced\nlittle or no augmentation of their revenues, they continued to flourish\nas a monetary corporation. Their stock was in high request, and the\ndirectors, buoyed up with success, began to think of new means for\nextending their influence. The Mississippi scheme of John Law, which\nso dazzled and captivated the French people, inspired them with an\nidea that they could carry on the same game in England. The anticipated\nfailure of his plans did not divert them from their intention. Wise in\ntheir own conceit, they imagined they could avoid his faults, carry on\ntheir schemes for ever, and stretch the cord of credit to its extremest\ntension, without causing it to snap asunder.\n\nIt was while Law's plan was at its greatest height of popularity, while\npeople were crowding in thousands to the Rue Quincampoix, and ruining\nthemselves with frantic eagerness, that the South Sea directors laid\nbefore Parliament their famous plan for paying off the national debt.\nVisions of boundless wealth floated before the fascinated eyes of the\npeople in the two most celebrated countries of Europe. The English\ncommenced their career of extravagance somewhat later than the French;\nbut as soon as the delirium seized them, they were determined not to be\noutdone. Upon the 22nd of January 1720, the House of Commons resolved\nitself into a Committee of the whole House, to take into consideration\nthat part of the King's speech at the opening of the session which\nrelated to the public debts, and the proposal of the South Sea Company\ntowards the redemption and sinking of the same. The proposal set forth\nat great length, and under several heads, the debts of the state,\namounting to 30,981,712 pounds, which the Company were anxious to take\nupon themselves, upon consideration of five per cent. per annum, secured\nto them until Midsummer 1727; after which time, the whole was to become\nredeemable at the pleasure of the legislature, and the interest to be\nreduced to four per cent. The proposal was received with great favour;\nbut the Bank of England had many friends in the House of Commons, who\nwere desirous that that body should share in the advantages that were\nlikely to accrue. On behalf of this corporation it was represented, that\nthey had performed great and eminent services to the state, in the most\ndifficult times, and deserved, at least, that if any advantage was to be\nmade by public bargains of this nature, they should be preferred before\na company that had never done any thing for the nation. The further\nconsideration of the matter was accordingly postponed for five days.\nIn the mean time, a plan was drawn up by the Governors of the Bank.\nThe South Sea Company, afraid that the Bank might offer still more\nadvantageous terms to the government than themselves, reconsidered their\nformer proposal, and made some alterations in it, which they hoped would\nrender it more acceptable. The principal change was a stipulation that\nthe government might redeem these debts at the expiration of four years,\ninstead of seven, as at first suggested. The Bank resolved not to be\noutbidden in this singular auction, and the Governors also reconsidered\ntheir first proposal, and sent in a new one.\n\nThus, each corporation having made two proposals, the House began to\ndeliberate. Mr. Robert Walpole was the chief speaker in favour of the\nBank, and Mr. Aislabie, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, the principal\nadvocate on behalf of the South Sea Company. It was resolved, on the 2nd\nof February, that the proposals of the latter were most advantageous\nto the country. They were accordingly received, and leave was given to\nbring in a bill to that effect.\n\nExchange Alley was in a fever of excitement. The Company's stock, which\nhad been at a hundred and thirty the previous day, gradually rose to\nthree hundred, and continued to rise with the most astonishing rapidity\nduring the whole time that the bill in its several stages was under\ndiscussion. Mr. Walpole was almost the only statesman in the House who\nspoke out boldly against it. He warned them, in eloquent and solemn\nlanguage, of the evils that would ensue. It countenanced, he said, \"the\ndangerous practice of stockjobbing, and would divert the genius of the\nnation from trade and industry. It would hold out a dangerous lure to\ndecoy the unwary to their ruin, by making them part with the earnings of\ntheir labour for a prospect of imaginary wealth.\" The great principle\nof the project was an evil of first-rate magnitude; it was to raise\nartificially the value of the stock, by exciting and keeping up a\ngeneral infatuation, and by promising dividends out of funds which could\nnever be adequate to the purpose. In a prophetic spirit he added,\nthat if the plan succeeded, the directors would become masters of the\ngovernment, form a new and absolute aristocracy in the kingdom, and\ncontrol the resolutions of the legislature. If it failed, which he was\nconvinced it would, the result would bring general discontent and ruin\nupon the country. Such would be the delusion, that when the evil day\ncame, as come it would, the people would start up, as from a dream, and\nask themselves if these things could have been true. All his eloquence\nwas in vain. He was looked upon as a false prophet, or compared to the\nhoarse raven, croaking omens of evil. His friends, however, compared him\nto Cassandra, predicting evils which would only be believed when they\ncame home to men's hearths, and stared them in the face at their own\nboards. Although, in former times, the House had listened with the\nutmost attention to every word that fell from his lips, the benches\nbecame deserted when it was known that he would speak on the South Sea\nquestion.\n\nThe bill was two months in its progress through the House of Commons.\nDuring this time every exertion was made by the directors and their\nfriends, and more especially by the Chairman, the noted Sir John Blunt,\nto raise the price of the stock. The most extravagant rumours were in\ncirculation. Treaties between England and Spain were spoken of, whereby\nthe latter was to grant a free trade to all her colonies; and the rich\nproduce of the mines of Potosi-la-Paz was to be brought to England until\nsilver should become almost as plentiful as iron. For cotton and woollen\ngoods, with which we could supply them in abundance, the dwellers\nin Mexico were to empty their golden mines. The company of merchants\ntrading to the South Seas would be the richest the world ever saw, and\nevery hundred pounds invested in it would produce hundreds per annum\nto the stockholder. At last the stock was raised by these means to\nnear four hundred; but, after fluctuating a good deal, settled at three\nhundred and thirty, at which price it remained when the bill passed the\nCommons by a majority of 172 against 55.\n\nIn the House of Lords the bill was hurried through all its stages with\nunexampled rapidity. On the 4th of April it was read a first time; on\nthe 5th, it was read a second time; on the 6th, it was committed; and on\nthe 7th, was read a third time, and passed.\n\nSeveral peers spoke warmly against the scheme; but their warnings fell\nupon dull, cold ears. A speculating frenzy had seized them as well\nas the plebeians. Lord North and Grey said the bill was unjust in its\nnature, and might prove fatal in its consequences, being calculated to\nenrich the few and impoverish the many. The Duke of Wharton followed;\nbut, as he only retailed at second-hand the arguments so eloquently\nstated by Walpole in the Lower House, he was not listened to with even\nthe same attention that had been bestowed upon Lord North and Grey. Earl\nCowper followed on the same side, and compared the bill to the famous\nhorse of the siege of Troy. Like that, it was ushered in and received\nwith great pomp and acclamations of joy, but bore within it treachery\nand destruction. The Earl of Sunderland endeavoured to answer all\nobjections; and, on the question being put, there appeared only\nseventeen peers against, and eighty-three in favour of the project.\nThe very same day on which it passed the Lords, it received the Royal\nassent, and became the law of the land.\n\nIt seemed at that time as if the whole nation had turned stockjobbers.\nExchange Alley was every day blocked up by crowds, and Cornhill was\nimpassable for the number of carriages. Everybody came to purchase\nstock. \"Every fool aspired to be a knave.\" In the words of a ballad,\npublished at the time, and sung about the streets, [\"A South Sea Ballad;\nor, Merry Remarks upon Exchange Alley Bubbles. To a new tune, called\n'The Grand Elixir; or, the Philosopher's Stone Discovered.'\"]\n\n     Then stars and garters did appear\n     Among the meaner rabble;\n     To buy and sell, to see and hear,\n     The Jews and Gentiles squabble.\n\n     The greatest ladies thither came,\n     And plied in chariots daily,\n     Or pawned their jewels for a sum\n     To venture in the Alley.\n\nThe inordinate thirst of gain that had afflicted all ranks of society,\nwas not to be slaked even in the South Sea. Other schemes, of the most\nextravagant kind, were started. The share-lists were speedily filled up,\nand an enormous traffic carried on in shares, while, of course, every\nmeans were resorted to, to raise them to an artificial value in the\nmarket.\n\nContrary to all expectation, South Sea stock fell when the bill received\nthe Royal assent. On the 7th of April the shares were quoted at three\nhundred and ten, and on the following day, at two hundred and ninety.\nAlready the directors had tasted the profits of their scheme, and it was\nnot likely that they should quietly allow the stock to find its natural\nlevel, without an effort to raise it. Immediately their busy emissaries\nwere set to work. Every person interested in the success of the\nproject endeavoured to draw a knot of listeners around him, to whom he\nexpatiated on the treasures of the South American seas. Exchange Alley\nwas crowded with attentive groups. One rumour alone, asserted with the\nutmost confidence, had an immediate effect upon the stock. It was said,\nthat Earl Stanhope had received overtures in France from the Spanish\nGovernment to exchange Gibraltar and Port Mahon for some places on the\ncoast of Peru, for the security and enlargement of the trade in the\nSouth Seas. Instead of one annual ship trading to those ports, and\nallowing the King of Spain twenty-five per cent. out of the profits, the\nCompany might build and charter as many ships as they pleased, and pay\nno per centage whatever to any foreign potentate.\n\nVisions of ingots danced before their eyes, and stock rose rapidly.\nOn the 12th of April, five days after the bill had become law, the\ndirectors opened their books for a subscription of a million, at the\nrate of 300 pounds for every 100 pounds capital. Such was the concourse\nof persons, of all ranks, that this first subscription was found to\namount to above two millions of original stock. It was to be paid at\nfive payments, of 60 pounds each for every 100 pounds. In a few days the\nstock advanced to three hundred and forty, and the subscriptions were\nsold for double the price of the first payment. To raise the stock still\nhigher, it was declared, in a general court of directors, on the 21st of\nApril, that the midsummer dividend should be ten per cent., and that\nall subscriptions should be entitled to the same. These resolutions\nanswering the end designed, the directors, to improve the infatuation\nof the monied men, opened their books for a second subscription of a\nmillion, at four hundred per cent. Such was the frantic eagerness of\npeople of every class to speculate in these funds, that in the course\nof a few hours no less than a million and a half was subscribed at that\nrate.\n\nIn the mean time, innumerable joint-stock companies started up\neverywhere. They soon received the name of Bubbles, the most appropriate\nthat imagination could devise. The populace are often most happy in the\nnicknames they employ. None could be more apt than that of Bubbles. Some\nof them lasted for a week, or a fortnight, and were no more heard of,\nwhile others could not even live out that short span of existence.\nEvery evening produced new schemes, and every morning new projects. The\nhighest of the aristocracy were as eager in this hot pursuit of gain\nas the most plodding jobber in Cornhill. The Prince of Wales became\ngovernor of one company, and is said to have cleared 40,000 pounds by\nhis speculations. [Coxe's Walpole, Correspondence between Mr. Secretary\nCraggs and Earl Stanhope.] The Duke of Bridgewater started a scheme\nfor the improvement of London and Westminster, and the Duke of Chandos\nanother. There were nearly a hundred different projects, each more\nextravagant and deceptive than the other. To use the words of the\n\"Political State,\" they were \"set on foot and promoted by crafty knaves,\nthen pursued by multitudes of covetous fools, and at last appeared to\nbe, in effect, what their vulgar appellation denoted them to be--bubbles\nand mere cheats.\" It was computed that near one million and a half\nsterling was won and lost by these unwarrantable practices, to the\nimpoverishment of many a fool, and the enriching of many a rogue.\n\nSome of these schemes were plausible enough, and, had they been\nundertaken at a time when the public mind was unexcited, might have\nbeen pursued with advantage to all concerned. But they were established\nmerely with the view of raising the shares in the market. The projectors\ntook the first opportunity of a rise to sell out, and next morning\nthe scheme was at an end. Maitland, in his History of London, gravely\ninforms us, that one of the projects which received great encouragement,\nwas for the establishment of a company \"to make deal-boards out of\nsaw-dust.\" This is, no doubt, intended as a joke; but there is\nabundance of evidence to show that dozens of schemes hardly a whir more\nreasonable, lived their little day, ruining hundreds ere they fell.\nOne of them was for a wheel for perpetual motion--capital, one million;\nanother was \"for encouraging the breed of horses in England, and\nimproving of glebe and church lands, and repairing and rebuilding\nparsonage and vicarage houses.\" Why the clergy, who were so mainly\ninterested in the latter clause, should have taken so much interest in\nthe first, is only to be explained on the supposition that the scheme\nwas projected by a knot of the foxhunting parsons, once so common in\nEngland. The shares of this company were rapidly subscribed for. But the\nmost absurd and preposterous of all, and which showed, more completely\nthan any other, the utter madness of the people, was one, started by an\nunknown adventurer, entitled \"company for carrying on an undertaking\nof great advantage, but nobody to know what it is.\" Were not the fact\nstated by scores of credible witnesses, it would be impossible to\nbelieve that any person could have been duped by such a project. The\nman of genius who essayed this bold and successful inroad upon public\ncredulity, merely stated in his prospectus that the required capital was\nhalf a million, in five thousand shares of 100 pounds each, deposit 2\npounds per share. Each subscriber, paying his deposit, would be entitled\nto 100 pounds per annum per share. How this immense profit was to\nbe obtained, he did not condescend to inform them at that time, but\npromised, that in a month full particulars should be duly announced,\nand a call made for the remaining 98 pounds of the subscription. Next\nmorning, at nine o'clock, this great man opened an office in Cornhill.\nCrowds of people beset his door, and when he shut up at three o'clock,\nhe found that no less than one thousand shares had been subscribed for,\nand the deposits paid. He was thus, in five hours, the winner of 2,000\npounds. He was philosopher enough to be contented with his venture, and\nset off the same evening for the Continent. He was never heard of again.\n\nWell might Swift exclaim, comparing Change Alley to a gulf in the South\nSea,--\n\n     Subscribers here by thousands float,\n     And jostle one another down,\n     Each paddling in his leaky boat,\n     And here they fish for gold, and drown.\n\n     Now buried in the depths below,\n     Now mounted up to heaven again,\n     They reel and stagger to and fro,\n     At their wit's end, like drunken men\n\n     Meantime, secure on Garraway cliffs,\n     A savage race, by shipwrecks fed,\n     Lie waiting for the foundered skiffs,\n     And strip the bodies of the dead.\n\nAnother fraud that was very successful, was that of the \"Globe Permits,\"\nas they were called. They were nothing more than square pieces of\nplaying cards, on which was the impression of a seal, in wax, bearing\nthe sign of the Globe Tavern, in the neighbourhood of Exchange Alley,\nwith the inscription of \"Sail Cloth Permits.\" The possessors enjoyed no\nother advantage from them than permission to subscribe, at some future\ntime, to a new sail-cloth manufactory, projected by one who was then\nknown to be a man of fortune, but who was afterwards involved in the\npeculation and punishment of the South Sea directors. These permits sold\nfor as much as sixty guineas in the Alley.\n\nPersons of distinction, of both sexes, were deeply engaged in all these\nbubbles, those of the male sex going to taverns and coffee-houses to\nmeet their brokers, and the ladies resorting for the same purpose to\nthe shops of milliners and haberdashers. But it did not follow that all\nthese people believed in the feasibility of the schemes to which they\nsubscribed; it was enough for their purpose that their shares would, by\nstock-jobbing arts, be soon raised to a premium, when they got rid\nof them with all expedition to the really credulous. So great was the\nconfusion of the crowd in the alley, that shares in the same bubble were\nknown to have been sold at the same instant ten per cent. higher at\none end of the alley than at the other. Sensible men beheld the\nextraordinary infatuation of the people with sorrow and alarm. There\nwere some, both in and out of Parliament, who foresaw clearly the ruin\nthat was impending. Mr. Walpole did not cease his gloomy forebodings.\nHis fears were shared by all the thinking few, and impressed most\nforcibly upon the government. On the 11th of June, the day the\nParliament rose, the King published a proclamation, declaring that\nall these unlawful projects should be deemed public nuisances, and\nprosecuted accordingly, and forbidding any broker, under a penalty\nof five hundred pounds, from buying or selling any shares in them.\nNotwithstanding this proclamation, roguish speculators still carried\nthem on, and the deluded people still encouraged them. On the 12th of\nJuly, an order of the Lords Justices assembled in privy council was\npublished, dismissing all the petitions that had been presented for\npatents and charters, and dissolving all the bubble companies. The\nfollowing copy of their lordships' order, containing a list of all these\nnefarious projects, will not be deemed uninteresting at the present day,\nwhen there is but too much tendency in the public mind to indulge in\nsimilar practices:--\n\n\"At the Council Chamber, Whitehall, the 12th day of July, 1720. Present,\ntheir Excellencies the Lords Justices in Council.\n\n\"Their Excellencies, the Lords Justices in council, taking into\nconsideration the many inconveniences arising to the public from several\nprojects set on foot for raising of joint stock for various purposes,\nand that a great many of his Majesty's subjects have been drawn in to\npart with their money on pretence of assurances that their petitions\nfor patents and charters, to enable them to carry on the same, would\nbe granted: to prevent such impositions, their Excellencies, this day,\nordered the said several petitions, together with such reports from the\nBoard of Trade, and from his Majesty's Attorney and Solicitor General,\nas had been obtained thereon, to be laid before them, and after mature\nconsideration thereof, were pleased, by advice of his Majesty's Privy\nCouncil, to order that the said petitions be dismissed, which are as\nfollow:--\n\n\"1. Petition of several persons, praying letters patent for carrying on\na fishing trade, by the name of the Grand Fishery of Great Britain.\n\n\"2. Petition of the Company of the Royal Fishery of England, praying\nletters patent for such further powers as will effectually contribute to\ncarry on the said fishery.\n\n\"3. Petition of George James, on behalf of himself and divers persons of\ndistinction concerned in a national fishery; praying letters patent of\nincorporation to enable them to carry on the same.\n\n\"4. Petition of several merchants, traders, and others, whose names\nare thereunto subscribed, praying to be incorporated for reviving and\ncarrying on a whale fishery to Greenland and elsewhere.\n\n\"5. Petition of Sir John Lambert, and others thereto subscribing, on\nbehalf of themselves and a great number of merchants, praying to be\nincorporated for carrying on a Greenland trade, and particularly a whale\nfishery in Davis's Straits.\n\n\"6. Another petition for a Greenland trade.\n\n\"7. Petition of several merchants, gentlemen, and citizens, praying to\nbe incorporated, for buying and building of ships to let or freight.\n\n\"8. Petition of Samuel Antrim and others, praying for letters patent for\nsowing hemp and flax.\n\n\"9. Petition of several merchants, masters of ships, sail-makers, and\nmanufacturers of sail-cloth, praying a charter of incorporation, to\nenable them to carry on and promote the said manufactory by a joint\nstock.\n\n\"10. Petition of Thomas Boyd, and several hundred merchants, owners\nand masters of ships, sailmakers, weavers, and other traders, praying a\ncharter of incorporation, empowering them to borrow money for purchasing\nlands, in order to the manufacturing sail-cloth and fine Holland.\n\n\"11. Petition on behalf of several persons interested in a patent\ngranted by the late King William and Queen Mary, for the making of linen\nand sail-cloth, praying that no charter may be granted to any persons\nwhatsoever for making sail-cloth, but that the privilege now enjoyed by\nthem may be confirmed, and likewise an additional power to carry on the\ncotton and cotton-silk manufactures.\n\n\"12. Petition of several citizens, merchants, and traders in London,\nand others, subscribers to a British stock, for a general insurance from\nfire in any part of England, praying to be incorporated for carrying on\nthe said undertaking.\n\n\"13. Petition of several of his Majesty's loyal subjects of the city of\nLondon, and other parts of Great Britain, praying to be incorporated,\nfor carrying on a general insurance from losses by fire within the\nkingdom of England.\n\n\"14. Petition of Thomas Burges, and others his Majesty's subjects\nthereto subscribing, in behalf of themselves and others, subscribers\nto a fund of 1,200,000 pounds, for carrying on a trade to his Majesty's\nGerman dominions, praying to be incorporated, by the name of the Harburg\nCompany.\n\n\"15. Petition of Edward Jones, a dealer in timber, on behalf of himself\nand others, praying to be incorporated for the importation of timber\nfrom Germany.\n\n\"16. Petition of several merchants of London, praying a charter of\nincorporation for carrying on a salt-work.\n\n\"17. Petition of Captain Macphedris, of London, merchant, on behalf\nof himself and several merchants, clothiers, hatters, dyers, and other\ntraders, praying a charter of incorporation, empowering them to raise\na sufficient sum of money to purchase lands for planting and rearing a\nwood called madder, for the use of dyers.\n\n\"18. Petition of Joseph Galendo, of London, snuff-maker, praying a\npatent for his invention to prepare and cure Virginia tobacco for\nsnuff in Virginia, and making it into the same in all his Majesty's\ndominions.\"\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF BUBBLES.\n\nThe following Bubble Companies were by the same order declared to be\nillegal, and abolished accordingly:--\n\n1. For the importation of Swedish iron.\n\n2. For supplying London with sea-coal. Capital, three millions.\n\n3. For building and rebuilding houses throughout all England. Capital,\nthree millions.\n\n4. For making of muslin.\n\n5. For carrying on and improving the British alum works.\n\n6. For effectually settling the island of Blanco and Sal Tartagus.\n\n7. For supplying the town of Deal with fresh water.\n\n8. For the importation of Flanders lace.\n\n9. For improvement of lands in Great Britain. Capital, four millions.\n\n10. For encouraging the breed of horses in England, and improving of\nglebe and church lands, and for repairing and rebuilding parsonage and\nvicarage houses.\n\n11. For making of iron and steel in Great Britain.\n\n12. For improving the land in the county of Flint. Capital, one million.\n\n13. For purchasing lands to build on. Capital, two millions.\n\n14. For trading in hair.\n\n15. For erecting salt-works in Holy Island. Capital, two millions.\n\n16. For buying and selling estates, and lending money on mortgage.\n\n17. For carrying on an undertaking of great advantage, but nobody to\nknow what it is.\n\n18. For paving the streets of London. Capital, two millions.\n\n19. For furnishing funerals to any part of Great Britain.\n\n20. For buying and selling lands and lending money at interest. Capital,\nfive millions.\n\n21. For carrying on the Royal Fishery of Great Britain. Capital, ten\nmillions.\n\n22. For assuring of seamen's wages.\n\n23. For erecting loan-offices for the assistance and encouragement of\nthe industrious. Capital, two millions.\n\n24. For purchasing and improving leasable lands. Capital, four millions.\n\n25. For importing pitch and tar, and other naval stores, from North\nBritain and America.\n\n26. For the clothing, felt, and pantile trade.\n\n27. For purchasing and improving a manor and royalty in Essex.\n\n28. For insuring of horses. Capital, two millions.\n\n29. For exporting the woollen manufacture, and importing copper, brass,\nand iron. Capital, four millions.\n\n30. For a grand dispensary. Capital, three millions.\n\n31. For erecting mills and purchasing lead mines. Capital, two millions.\n\n32. For improving the art of making soap.\n\n33. For a settlement on the island of Santa Cruz.\n\n34. For sinking pits and smelting lead ore in Derbyshire.\n\n35. For making glass bottles and other glass.\n\n36. For a wheel for perpetual motion. Capital, one million.\n\n37. For improving of gardens.\n\n38. For insuring and increasing children's fortunes.\n\n39. For entering and loading goods at the custom-house, and for\nnegotiating business for merchants.\n\n40. For carrying on a woollen manufacture in the north of England.\n\n41. For importing walnut-trees from Virginia. Capital, two millions.\n\n42. For making Manchester stuffs of thread and cotton.\n\n43. For making Joppa and Castile soap.\n\n44. For improving the wrought-iron and steel manufactures of this\nkingdom. Capital, four millions.\n\n45. For dealing in lace, Hollands, cambrics, lawns, &c. Capital, two\nmillions.\n\n46. For trading in and improving certain commodities of the produce of\nthis kingdom, &c. Capital, three millions.\n\n47. For supplying the London markets with cattle.\n\n48. For making looking-glasses, coach glasses, &c. Capital, two\nmillions.\n\n49. For working the tin and lead mines in Cornwall and Derbyshire.\n\n50. For making rape-oil.\n\n51. For importing beaver fur. Capital, two millions.\n\n52. For making pasteboard and packing-paper.\n\n53. For importing of oils and other materials used in the woollen\nmanufacture.\n\n54. For improving and increasing the silk manufactures.\n\n55. For lending money on stock, annuities, tallies, &c.\n\n56. For paying pensions to widows and others, at a small discount.\nCapital, two millions.\n\n57. For improving malt liquors. Capital, four millions.\n\n58. For a grand American fishery.\n\n59. For purchasing and improving the fenny lands in Lincolnshire.\nCapital, two millions.\n\n60. For improving the paper manufacture of Great Britain.\n\n61. The Bottomry Company.\n\n62. For drying malt by hot air.\n\n63. For carrying on a trade in the river Oronooko.\n\n64. For the more effectual making of baize, in Colchester and other\nparts of Great Britain.\n\n65. For buying of naval stores, supplying the victualling, and paying\nthe wages of the workmen.\n\n66. For employing poor artificers, and furnishing merchants and others\nwith watches.\n\n67. For improvement of tillage and the breed of cattle.\n\n68. Another for the improvement of our breed of horses.\n\n69. Another for a horse-insurance.\n\n70. For carrying on the corn trade of Great Britain.\n\n71. For insuring to all masters and mistresses the losses they may\nsustain by servants. Capital, three millions.\n\n72. For erecting houses or hospitals, for taking in and maintaining\nillegitimate children. Capital, two millions.\n\n73. For bleaching coarse sugars, without the use of fire or loss of\nsubstance.\n\n74. For building turnpikes and wharfs in Great Britain.\n\n75. For insuring from thefts and robberies.\n\n76. For extracting silver from lead.\n\n77. For making China and Delft ware. Capital, one million.\n\n78. For importing tobacco, and exporting it again to Sweden and the\nnorth of Europe. Capital, four millions.\n\n79. For making iron with pit coal.\n\n80. For furnishing the cities of London and Westminster with hay and\nstraw. Capital, three millions.\n\n81. For a sail and packing cloth manufactory in Ireland.\n\n82. For taking up ballast.\n\n83. For buying and fitting out ships to suppress pirates.\n\n84. For the importation of timber from Wales. Capital, two millions.\n\n85. For rock-salt.\n\n86. For the transmutation of quicksilver into a malleable fine metal.\n\nBesides these bubbles, many others sprang up daily, in spite of the\ncondemnation of the Government and the ridicule of the still sane\nportion of the public. The print-shops teemed with caricatures, and\nthe newspapers with epigrams and satires, upon the prevalent folly. An\ningenious card-maker published a pack of South Sea playing-cards, which\nare now extremely rare, each card containing, besides the usual figures,\nof a very small size, in one corner, a caricature of a bubble company,\nwith appropriate verses underneath. One of the most famous bubbles\nwas \"Puckle's Machine Company,\" for discharging round and square\ncannon-balls and bullets, and making a total revolution in the art of\nwar. Its pretensions to public favour were thus summed up, on the eight\nof spades:--\n\n     A rare invention to destroy the crowd\n     Of fools at home, instead of fools abroad.\n     Fear not, my friends, this terrible machine,\n     They're only wounded who have shares therein.\n\n     The nine of hearts was a caricature of the English Copper and Brass\n     Company, with the following epigram:--\n\n     The headlong fool that wants to be a swopper\n     Of gold and silver coin for English copper,\n     May, in Change Alley, prove himself an ass,\n     And give rich metal for adulterate brass.\n\n     The eight of diamonds celebrated the Company for the Colonization of\n     Acadia, with this doggrel:--\n\n     He that is rich and wants to fool away\n     A good round sum in North America,\n     Let him subscribe himself a headlong sharer,\n     And asses' ears shall honour him or bearer.\n\nAnd in a similar style every card of the pack exposed some knavish\nscheme, and ridiculed the persons who were its dupes. It was computed\nthat the total amount of the sums proposed for carrying on these\nprojects was upwards of three hundred millions sterling, a sum so\nimmense that it exceeded the value of all the lands in England at twenty\nyears' purchase.\n\nIt is time, however, to return to the great South Sea gulf, that\nswallowed the fortunes of so many thousands of the avaricious and the\ncredulous. On the 29th of May, the stock had risen as high as five\nhundred, and about two-thirds of the government annuitants had exchanged\nthe securities of the state for those of the South Sea Company. During\nthe whole of the month of May the stock continued to rise, and on the\n28th it was quoted at five hundred and fifty. In four days after this it\ntook a prodigious leap, rising suddenly from five hundred and fifty to\neight hundred and ninety. It was now the general opinion that the stock\ncould rise no higher, and many persons took that opportunity of selling\nout, with a view of realising their profits. Many noblemen and persons\nin the train of the King, and about to accompany him to Hanover, were\nalso anxious to sell out. So many sellers, and so few buyers, appeared\nin the Alley on the 3rd of June, that the stock fell at once from eight\nhundred and ninety to six hundred and forty. The directors were alarmed,\nand gave their agents orders to buy. Their efforts succeeded. Towards\nevening confidence was restored, and the stock advanced to seven hundred\nand fifty. It continued at this price, with some slight fluctuation,\nuntil the company closed their books on the 22nd of June.\n\nIt would be needless and uninteresting to detail the various arts\nemployed by the directors to keep up the price of stock. It will be\nsufficient to state that it finally rose to one thousand per cent. It\nwas quoted at this price in the commencement of August. The bubble\nwas then full-blown, and began to quiver and shake, preparatory to its\nbursting.\n\nMany of the government annuitants expressed dissatisfaction against the\ndirectors. They accused them of partiality in making out the lists for\nshares in each subscription. Further uneasiness was occasioned by\nits being generally known that Sir John Blunt, the chairman, and some\nothers, had sold out. During the whole of the month of August the stock\nfell, and on the 2nd of September it was quoted at seven hundred only.\n\nThe state of things now became alarming. To prevent, if possible,\nthe utter extinction of public confidence in their proceedings, the\ndirectors summoned a general court of the whole corporation, to meet in\nMerchant Tailors' Hall, on the 8th of September. By nine o'clock in the\nmorning, the room was filled to suffocation; Cheapside was blocked up\nby a crowd unable to gain admittance, and the greatest excitement\nprevailed. The directors and their friends mustered in great numbers.\nSir John Fellowes, the sub-governor, was called to the chair. He\nacquainted the assembly with the cause of their meeting, read to them\nthe several resolutions of the court of directors, and gave them an\naccount of their proceedings; of the taking in the redeemable and\nunredeemable funds, and of the subscriptions in money. Mr. Secretary\nCraggs then made a short speech, wherein he commended the conduct of the\ndirectors, and urged that nothing could more effectually contribute to\nthe bringing this scheme to perfection than union among themselves. He\nconcluded with a motion for thanking the court of directors for their\nprudent and skilful management, and for desiring them to proceed in such\nmanner as they should think most proper for the interest and advantage\nof the corporation. Mr. Hungerford, who had rendered himself very\nconspicuous in the House of Commons for his zeal in behalf of the South\nSea Company, and who was shrewdly suspected to have been a considerable\ngainer by knowing the right time to sell out, was very magniloquent on\nthis occasion. He said that he had seen the rise and fall, the decay\nand resurrection of many communities of this nature, but that, in his\nopinion, none had ever performed such wonderful things in so short a\ntime as the South Sea Company. They had done more than the crown, the\npulpit, or the bench could do. They had reconciled all parties in one\ncommon interest; they had laid asleep, if not wholly extinguished, all\nthe domestic jars and animosities of the nation. By the rise of their\nstock, monied men had vastly increased their fortunes; country-gentlemen\nhad seen the value of their lands doubled and trebled in their hands.\nThey had at the same time done good to the Church, not a few of the\nreverend clergy having got great sums by the project. In short, they\nhad enriched the whole nation, and he hoped they had not forgotten\nthemselves. There was some hissing at the latter part of this speech,\nwhich for the extravagance of its eulogy was not far removed from\nsatire; but the directors and their friends, and all the winners in\nthe room, applauded vehemently. The Duke of Portland spoke in a\nsimilar strain, and expressed his great wonder why anybody should be\ndissatisfied: of course, he was a winner by his speculations, and in\na condition similar to that of the fat alderman in Joe Miller's Jests,\nwho, whenever he had eaten a good dinner, folded his hands upon his\npaunch, and expressed his doubts whether there could be a hungry man in\nthe world.\n\nSeveral resolutions were passed at this meeting, but they had no effect\nupon the public. Upon the very same evening the stock fell to six\nhundred and forty, and on the morrow to five hundred and forty. Day\nafter day it continued to fall, until it was as low as four hundred.\nIn a letter dated September 13th, from Mr. Broderick, M.P. to Lord\nChancellor Middleton, and published in Coxo's Walpole, the former\nsays,--\"Various are the conjectures why the South Sea directors have\nsuffered the cloud to break so early. I made no doubt but they would do\nso when they found it to their advantage. They have stretched credit\nso far beyond what it would bear, that specie proves insufficient\nto support it. Their most considerable men have drawn out, securing\nthemselves by the losses of the deluded, thoughtless numbers, whose\nunderstandings have been overruled by avarice and the hope of making\nmountains out of mole-hills. Thousands of families will be reduced\nto beggary. The consternation is inexpressible--the rage beyond\ndescription, and the case altogether so desperate that I do not see any\nplan or scheme so much as thought of for averting the blow, so that I\ncannot pretend to guess what is next to be done.\" Ten days afterwards,\nthe stock still falling, he writes,--\"The Company have yet come to no\ndetermination, for they are in such a wood that they know not which way\nto turn. By several gentlemen lately come to town, I perceive the very\nname of a South-Sea-man grows abominable in every country. A great many\ngoldsmiths are already run off, and more will daily. I question\nwhether one-third, nay, one-fourth, of them can stand it. From the\nvery beginning, I founded my judgment of the whole affair upon the\nunquestionable maxim, that ten millions (which is more than our running\ncash) could not circulate two hundred millions, beyond which our paper\ncredit extended. That, therefore, whenever that should become doubtful,\nbe the cause what it would, our noble state machine must inevitably fall\nto the ground.\"\n\nOn the 12th of September, at the earnest solicitation of Mr. Secretary\nCraggs, several conferences were held between the directors of the South\nSea and the directors of the Bank. A report which was circulated,\nthat the latter had agreed to circulate six millions of the South Sea\nCompany's bonds, caused the stock to rise to six hundred and seventy;\nbut in the afternoon, as soon as the report was known to be groundless,\nthe stock fell again to five hundred and eighty; the next day to five\nhundred and seventy, and so gradually to four hundred. [Gay (the poet),\nin that disastrous year, had a present from young Craggs of some South\nSea stock, and once supposed himself to be master of twenty thousand\npounds. His friends persuaded him to sell his share, but he dreamed of\ndignity and splendour, and could not bear to obstruct his own fortune.\nHe was then importuned to sell as much as would purchase a hundred a\nyear for life, \"which,\" says Fenton, \"will make you sure of a clean\nshirt and a shoulder of mutton every day.\" This counsel was rejected;\nthe profit and principal were lost, and Gay sunk under the calamity so\nlow that his life became in danger.--Johnson's Lives of the Poets.]\n\nThe ministry were seriously alarmed at the aspect of affairs. The\ndirectors could not appear in the streets without being insulted;\ndangerous riots were every moment apprehended. Despatches were sent off\nto the King at Hanover, praying his immediate return. Mr. Walpole, who\nwas staying at his country-seat, was sent for, that he might employ his\nknown influence with the directors of the Bank of England to induce them\nto accept the proposal made by the South Sea Company for circulating a\nnumber of their bonds.\n\nThe Bank was very unwilling to mix itself up with the affairs of the\nCompany; it dreaded being involved in calamities which it could not\nrelieve, and received all overtures with visible reluctance. But the\nuniversal voice of the nation called upon it to come to the rescue.\nEvery person of note in commercial politics was called in to advise in\nthe emergency. A rough draft of a contract drawn up by Mr. Walpole was\nultimately adopted as the basis of further negotiations, and the public\nalarm abated a little.\n\nOn the following day, the 20th of September, a general court of\nthe South Sea Company was held at Merchant Tailors' Hall, in which\nresolutions were carried, empowering the directors to agree with the\nBank of England, or any other persons, to circulate the Company's\nbonds, or make any other agreement with the Bank which they should think\nproper. One of the speakers, a Mr. Pulteney, said it was most surprising\nto see the extraordinary panic which had seized upon the people. Men\nwere running to and fro in alarm and terror, their imaginations filled\nwith some great calamity, the form and dimensions of which nobody knew.\n\n     \"Black it stood as night--\n     Fierce as ten furies--terrible as hell.\"\n\nAt a general court of the Bank of England held two days afterwards, the\ngovernor informed them of the several meetings that had been held on the\naffairs of the South Sea Company, adding that the directors had not yet\nthought fit to come to any decision upon the matter. A resolution was\nthen proposed, and carried without a dissentient voice, empowering the\ndirectors to agree with those of the South Sea to circulate their bonds,\nto what sum, and upon what terms, and for what time, they might think\nproper.\n\nThus both parties were at liberty to act as they might judge best for\nthe public interest. Books were opened at the Bank for a subscription of\nthree millions for the support of public credit, on the usual terms of\n15 pounds per cent. deposit, per cent. premium, and 5 pounds per cent.\ninterest. So great was the concourse of people in the early part of\nthe morning, all eagerly bringing their money, that it was thought the\nsubscription would be filled that day; but before noon, the tide\nturned. In spite of all that could be done to prevent it, the South Sea\nCompany's stock fell rapidly. Their bonds were in such discredit, that a\nrun commenced upon the most eminent goldsmiths and bankers, some of whom\nhaving lent out great sums upon South Sea stock were obliged to shut up\ntheir shops and abscond. The Sword-blade Company, who had hitherto been\nthe chief cashiers of the South Sea Company, stopped payment. This being\nlooked upon as but the beginning of evil, occasioned a great run upon\nthe Bank, who were now obliged to pay out money much faster than they\nhad received it upon the subscription in the morning. The day succeeding\nwas a holiday (the 29th of September), and the Bank had a little\nbreathing time. They bore up against the storm; but their former rivals,\nthe South Sea Company, were wrecked upon it. Their stock fell to one\nhundred and fifty, and gradually, after various fluctuations, to one\nhundred and thirty-five.\n\nThe Bank, finding they were not able to restore public confidence, and\nstem the tide of ruin, without running the risk of being swept away with\nthose they intended to save, declined to carry out the agreement into\nwhich they had partially entered. They were under no obligation whatever\nto continue; for the so called Bank contract was nothing more than the\nrough draught of an agreement, in which blanks had been left for\nseveral important particulars, and which contained no penalty for their\nsecession. \"And thus,\" to use the words of the Parliamentary History,\n\"were seen, in the space of eight months, the rise, progress, and fall\nof that mighty fabric, which, being wound up by mysterious springs to a\nwonderful height, had fixed the eyes and expectations of all Europe,\nbut whose foundation, being fraud, illusion, credulity, and infatuation,\nfell to the ground as soon as the artful management of its directors was\ndiscovered.\"\n\nIn the hey-day of its blood, during the progress of this dangerous\ndelusion, the manners of the nation became sensibly corrupted. The\nParliamentary inquiry, set on foot to discover the delinquents,\ndisclosed scenes of infamy, disgraceful alike to the morals of the\noffenders and the intellects of the people among whom they had arisen.\nIt is a deeply interesting study to investigate all the evils that were\nthe result. Nations, like individuals, cannot become desperate gamblers\nwith impunity. Punishment is sure to overtake them sooner or later. A\ncelebrated writer [Smollett.] is quite wrong, when he says, \"that such\nan era as this is the most unfavourable for a historian; that no reader\nof sentiment and imagination can be entertained or interested by a\ndetail of transactions such as these, which admit of no warmth, no\ncolouring, no embellishment; a detail of which only serves to exhibit\nan inanimate picture of tasteless vice and mean degeneracy.\" On the\ncontrary, and Smollett might have discovered it, if he had been in the\nhumour--the subject is capable of inspiring as much interest as even a\nnovelist can desire. Is there no warmth in the despair of a plundered\npeople?--no life and animation in the picture which might be drawn of\nthe woes of hundreds of impoverished and ruined families? of the\nwealthy of yesterday become the beggars of to-day? of the powerful\nand influential changed into exiles and outcasts, and the voice of\nself-reproach and imprecation resounding from every corner of the land?\nIs it a dull or uninstructive picture to see a whole people shaking\nsuddenly off the trammels of reason, and running wild after a golden\nvision, refusing obstinately to believe that it is not real, till, like\na deluded hind running after an ignis fatuus, they are plunged into a\nquagmire? But in this false spirit has history too often been written.\nThe intrigues of unworthy courtiers to gain the favour of still more\nunworthy kings; or the records of murderous battles and sieges have\nbeen dilated on, and told over and over again, with all the eloquence\nof style and all the charms of fancy; while the circumstances which have\nmost deeply affected the morals and welfare of the people, have been\npassed over with but slight notice as dry and dull, and capable of\nneither warmth nor colouring.\n\nDuring the progress of this famous bubble, England presented a singular\nspectacle. The public mind was in a state of unwholesome fermentation.\nMen were no longer satisfied with the slow but sure profits of cautious\nindustry. The hope of boundless wealth for the morrow made them\nheedless and extravagant for to-day. A luxury, till then unheard-of, was\nintroduced, bringing in its train a corresponding laxity of morals. The\noverbearing insolence of ignorant men, who had arisen to sudden wealth\nby successful gambling, made men of true gentility of mind and manners,\nblush that gold should have power to raise the unworthy in the scale of\nsociety. The haughtiness of some of these \"cyphering cits,\" as they were\ntermed by Sir Richard Steele, was remembered against them in the day\nof their adversity. In the Parliamentary inquiry, many of the directors\nsuffered more for their insolence than for their peculation. One of\nthem, who, in the full-blown pride of an ignorant rich man, had said\nthat he would feed his horse upon gold, was reduced almost to bread and\nwater for himself; every haughty look, every overbearing speech, was set\ndown, and repaid them a hundredfold in poverty and humiliation.\n\nThe state of matters all over the country was so alarming, that George\nI shortened his intended stay in Hanover, and returned in all haste to\nEngland. He arrived on the 11th of November, and Parliament was summoned\nto meet on the 8th of December. In the mean time, public meetings were\nheld in every considerable town of the empire, at which petitions were\nadopted, praying the vengeance of the Legislature upon the South Sea\ndirectors, who, by their fraudulent practices, had brought the nation to\nthe brink of ruin. Nobody seemed to imagine that the nation itself was\nas culpable as the South Sea Company. Nobody blamed the credulity and\navarice of the people,--the degrading lust of gain, which had swallowed\nup every nobler quality in the national character, or the infatuation\nwhich had made the multitude run their heads with such frantic eagerness\ninto the net held out for them by scheming projectors. These things were\nnever mentioned. The people were a simple, honest, hard-working people,\nruined by a gang of robbers, who were to be hanged, drawn, and quartered\nwithout mercy.\n\nThis was the almost unanimous feeling of the country. The two Houses of\nParliament were not more reasonable. Before the guilt of the South\nSea directors was known, punishment was the only cry. The King, in his\nspeech from the throne, expressed his hope that they would remember that\nall their prudence, temper, and resolution were necessary to find out\nand apply the proper remedy for their misfortunes. In the debate on the\nanswer to the address, several speakers indulged in the most violent\ninvectives against the directors of the South Sea project. The Lord\nMolesworth was particularly vehement. \"It had been said by some, that\nthere was no law to punish the directors of the South Sea Company, who\nwere justly looked upon as the authors of the present misfortunes of\nthe state. In his opinion they ought, upon this occasion, to follow the\nexample of the ancient Romans, who, having no law against parricide,\nbecause their legislators supposed no son could be so unnaturally wicked\nas to embrue his hands in his father's blood, made a law to punish this\nheinous crime as soon as it was committed. They adjudged the guilty\nwretch to be sown in a sack, and thrown alive into the Tyber. He looked\nupon the contrivers and executors of the villanous South Sea scheme as\nthe parricides of their country, and should be satisfied to see them\ntied in like manner in sacks, and thrown into the Thames.\" Other members\nspoke with as much want of temper and discretion. Mr. Walpole was more\nmoderate. He recommended that their first care should be to restore\npublic credit. \"If the city of London were on fire, all wise men would\naid in extinguishing the flames, and preventing the spread of the\nconflagration before they inquired after the incendiaries. Public credit\nhad received a dangerous wound, and lay bleeding, and they ought to\napply a speedy remedy to it. It was time enough to punish the assassin\nafterwards.\" On the 9th of December an address, in answer to his\nMajesty's speech, was agreed upon, after an amendment, which was\ncarried without a division, that words should be added expressive of the\ndetermination of the House not only to seek a remedy for the national\ndistresses, but to punish the authors of them.\n\nThe inquiry proceeded rapidly. The directors were ordered to lay before\nthe House a full account of all their proceedings. Resolutions were\npassed to the effect that the calamity was mainly owing to the vile\narts of stockjobbers, and that nothing could tend more to the\nre-establishment of public credit than a law to prevent this infamous\npractice. Mr. Walpole then rose, and said, that \"as he had previously\nhinted, he had spent some time upon a scheme for restoring public\ncredit, but that, the execution of it depending upon a position which\nhad been laid down as fundamental, he thought it proper, before he\nopened out his scheme, to be informed whether he might rely upon\nthat foundation. It was, whether the subscription of public debts and\nencumbrances, money subscriptions, and other contracts, made with the\nSouth Sea Company should remain in the present state?\" This question\noccasioned an animated debate. It was finally agreed, by a majority of\n259 against 117, that all these contracts should remain in their present\nstate, unless altered for the relief of the proprietors by a general\ncourt of the South Sea Company, or set aside by due course of law. On\nthe following day Mr. Walpole laid before a committee of the whole\nHouse his scheme for the restoration of public credit, which was, in\nsubstance, to ingraft nine millions of South Sea stock into the Bank\nof England, and the same sum into the East India Company, upon certain\nconditions. The plan was favourably received by the House. After some\nfew objections, it was ordered that proposals should be received from\nthe two great corporations. They were both unwilling to lend their aid,\nand the plan met with a warm but fruitless opposition at the general\ncourts summoned for the purpose of deliberating upon it. They, however,\nultimately agreed upon the terms on which they would consent to\ncirculate the South Sea bonds, and their report, being presented to\nthe committee, a bill was brought in, under the superintendence of Mr.\nWalpole, and safely carried through both Houses of Parliament.\n\nA bill was at the same time brought in, for restraining the South Sea\ndirectors, governor, sub-governor, treasurer, cashier, and clerks from\nleaving the kingdom for a twelvemonth, and for discovering their estates\nand effects, and preventing them from transporting or alienating the\nsame. All the most influential members of the House supported the bill.\nMr. Shippen, seeing Mr. Secretary Craggs in his place, and believing\nthe injurious rumours that were afloat of that minister's conduct in the\nSouth Sea business, determined to touch him to the quick. He said, he\nwas glad to see a British House of Commons resuming its pristine vigour\nand spirit, and acting with so much unanimity for the public good.\nIt was necessary to secure the persons and estates of the South Sea\ndirectors and their officers; \"but,\" he added, looking fixedly at Mr.\nCraggs as he spoke, \"there were other men in high station, whom, in\ntime, he would not be afraid to name, who were no less guilty than\nthe directors.\" Mr. Craggs arose in great wrath, and said, that if the\ninnuendo were directed against him, he was ready to give satisfaction to\nany man who questioned him, either in the House or out of it. Loud cries\nof order immediately arose on every side. In the midst of the uproar\nLord Molesworth got up, and expressed his wonder at the boldness of Mr.\nCraggs in challenging the whole House of Commons. He, Lord Molesworth,\nthough somewhat old, past sixty, would answer Mr. Craggs whatever he\nhad to say in the House, and he trusted there were plenty of young men\nbeside him, who would not be afraid to look Mr. Craggs in the face, out\nof the House. The cries of order again resounded from every side; the\nmembers arose simultaneously; everybody seemed to be vociferating at\nonce. The Speaker in vain called order. The confusion lasted several\nminutes, during which Lord Molesworth and Mr. Craggs were almost the\nonly members who kept their seats. At last the call for Mr. Craggs\nbecame so violent that he thought proper to submit to the universal\nfeeling of the House, and explain his unparliamentary expression. He\nsaid, that by giving satisfaction to the impugners of his conduct in\nthat House, he did not mean that he would fight, but that he would\nexplain his conduct. Here the matter ended, and the House proceeded to\ndebate in what manner they should conduct their inquiry into the affairs\nof the South Sea Company, whether in a grand or a select committee.\nUltimately, a Secret Committee of thirteen was appointed, with power to\nsend for persons, papers, and records.\n\nThe Lords were as zealous and as hasty as the Commons. The Bishop\nof Rochester said the scheme had been like a pestilence. The Duke of\nWharton said the House ought to show no respect of persons; that, for\nhis part, he would give up the dearest friend he had, if he had been\nengaged in the project. The nation had been plundered in a most shameful\nand flagrant manner, and he would go as far as anybody in the punishment\nof the offenders. Lord Stanhope said, that every farthing possessed\nby the criminals, whether directors or not directors, ought to be\nconfiscated, to make good the public losses.\n\nDuring all this time the public excitement was extreme. We learn, front\nCoxe's Walpole, that the very name of a South Sea director was thought\nto be synonymous with every species of fraud and villany. Petitions\nfrom counties, cities, and boroughs, in all parts of the kingdom, were\npresented, crying for the justice due to an injured nation and the\npunishment of the villanous peculators. Those moderate men, who would\nnot go to extreme lengths, even in the punishment of the guilty, were\naccused of being accomplices, were exposed to repeated insults and\nvirulent invectives, and devoted, both in anonymous letters and public\nwritings, to the speedy vengeance of an injured people. The accusations\nagainst Mr. Aislabie, Chancellor of the Exchequer, and Mr. Craggs,\nanother member of the ministry, were so loud, that the House of Lords\nresolved to proceed at once into the investigation concerning them. It\nwas ordered, on the 21st of January, that all brokers concerned in the\nSouth Sea scheme should lay before the House an account of the stock\nor subscriptions bought or sold by them for any of the officers of the\nTreasury or Exchequer, or in trust for any of them, since Michaelmas\n1719. When this account was delivered, it appeared that large quantities\nof stock had been transferred to the use of Mr. Aislabie. Five of the\nSouth Sea directors, including Mr. Edward Gibbon, the grandfather of the\ncelebrated historian, were ordered into the custody of the black rod.\nUpon a motion made by Earl Stanhope, it was unanimously resolved,\nthat the taking in or giving credit for stock without a valuable\nconsideration actually paid or sufficiently secured; or the purchasing\nstock by any director or agent of the South Sea Company, for the use\nor benefit of any member of the administration, or any member of either\nHouse of Parliament, during such time as the South Sea Bill was yet\npending in Parliament, was a notorious and dangerous corruption. Another\nresolution was passed a few days afterwards, to the effect that several\nof the directors and officers of the Company having, in a clandestine\nmanner, sold their own stock to the Company, had been guilty of a\nnotorious fraud and breach of trust, and had thereby mainly caused the\nunhappy turn of affairs that had so much affected public credit.\nMr. Aislabie resigned his office as Chancellor of the Exchequer, and\nabsented himself from Parliament until the formal inquiry into his\nindividual guilt was brought under the consideration of the Legislature.\n\nIn the mean time, Knight, the treasurer of the Company, and who was\nintrusted with all the dangerous secrets of the dishonest directors,\npacked up his books and documents, and made his escape from the country.\nHe embarked in disguise, in a small boat on the river, and proceeding\nto a vessel hired for the purpose, was safely conveyed to Calais. The\nCommittee of Secrecy informed the House of the circumstance, when it was\nresolved unanimously that two addresses should be presented to the King;\nthe first praying that he would issue a proclamation, offering a reward\nfor the apprehension of Knight; and the second, that he would give\nimmediate orders to stop the ports, and to take effectual care of the\ncoasts, to prevent the said Knight, or any other officers of the South\nSea Company, from escaping out of the kingdom. The ink was hardly\ndry upon these addresses before they were carried to the King by Mr.\nMethuen, deputed by the House for that purpose. The same evening a royal\nproclamation was issued, offering a reward of two thousand pounds for\nthe apprehension of Knight. The Commons ordered the doors of the House\nto be locked, and the keys to be placed upon the table. General Ross,\none of the members of the Committee of Secrecy, acquainted them that\nthey had already discovered a train of the deepest villany and fraud\nthat Hell had ever contrived to ruin a nation, which in due time they\nwould lay before the House. In the mean time, in order to a further\ndiscovery, the Committee thought it highly necessary to secure the\npersons of some of the directors and principal South Sea officers, and\nto seize their papers. A motion to this effect having been made, was\ncarried unanimously. Sir Robert Chaplin, Sir Theodore Janssen, Mr.\nSawbridge, and Mr. F. Eyles, members of the House, and directors of the\nSouth Sea Company, were summoned to appear in their places, and answer\nfor their corrupt practices. Sir Theodore Janssen and Mr. Sawbridge\nanswered to their names, and endeavoured to exculpate themselves. The\nHouse heard them patiently, and then ordered them to withdraw. A motion\nwas then made, and carried nemine contradicente, that they had been\nguilty of a notorious breach of trust--had occasioned much loss to great\nnumbers of his Majesty's subjects, and had highly prejudiced the public\ncredit. It was then ordered that, for their offence, they should be\nexpelled the House, and taken into the custody of the sergeant-at-arms.\nSir Robert Chaplin and Mr. Eyles, attending in their places four days\nafterwards, were also expelled the House. It was resolved at the same\ntime to address the King, to give directions to his ministers at foreign\ncourts to make application for Knight, that he might be delivered up\nto the English authorities, in ease he took refuge in any of their\ndominions. The King at once agreed, and messengers were despatched to\nall parts of the Continent the same night.\n\nAmong the directors taken into custody, was Sir John Blunt, the man whom\npopular opinion has generally accused of having been the original author\nand father of the scheme. This man, we are informed by Pope, in his\nepistle to Allen, Lord Bathurst, was a dissenter, of a most religious\ndeportment, and professed to be a great believer. He constantly\ndeclaimed against the luxury and corruption of the age, the partiality\nof parliaments, and the misery of party spirit. He was particularly\neloquent against avarice in great and noble persons. He was originally\na scrivener, and afterwards became, not only a director, but the most\nactive manager of the South Sea Company. Whether it was during his\ncareer in this capacity that he first began to declaim against the\navarice of the great, we are not informed. He certainly must have seen\nenough of it to justify his severest anathema; but if the preacher had\nhimself been free from the vice he condemned, his declamations would\nhave had a better effect. He was brought up in custody to the bar of the\nHouse of Lords, and underwent a long examination. He refused to answer\nseveral important questions. He said he had been examined already by\na committee of the House of Commons, and as he did not remember his\nanswers, and might contradict himself, he refused to answer before\nanother tribunal. This declaration, in itself an indirect proof of\nguilt, occasioned some commotion in the House. He was again asked\nperemptorily whether he had ever sold any portion of the stock to\nany member of the administration, or any member of either House of\nParliament, to facilitate the passing of the hill. He again declined to\nanswer. He was anxious, he said, to treat the House with all possible\nrespect, but he thought it hard to be compelled to accuse himself. After\nseveral ineffectual attempts to refresh his memory, he was directed to\nwithdraw. A violent discussion ensued between the friends and opponents\nof the ministry. It was asserted that the administration were no\nstrangers to the convenient taciturnity of Sir John Blunt. The Duke\nof Wharton made a reflection upon the Earl Stanhope, which the latter\nwarmly resented. He spoke under great excitement, and with such\nvehemence as to cause a sudden determination of blood to the head. He\nfelt himself so ill that he was obliged to leave the House and retire\nto his chamber. He was cupped immediately, and also let blood on the\nfollowing morning, but with slight relief. The fatal result was not\nanticipated. Towards evening he became drowsy, and turning himself on\nhis face, expired. The sudden death of this statesman caused great grief\nto the nation. George I was exceedingly affected, and shut himself up\nfor some hours in his closet, inconsolable for his loss.\n\nKnight, the treasurer of the company, was apprehended at Tirlemont, near\nLiege, by one of the secretaries of Mr. Leathes, the British resident\nat Brussels, and lodged in the citadel of Antwerp. Repeated applications\nwere made to the court of Austria to deliver him up, but in vain. Knight\nthrew himself upon the protection of the states of Brabant, and demanded\nto be tried in that country. It was a privilege granted to the states\nof Brabant by one of the articles of the Joyeuse Entree, that every\ncriminal apprehended in that country should be tried in that country.\nThe states insisted on their privilege, and refused to deliver Knight to\nthe British authorities. The latter did not cease their solicitations;\nbut in the mean time, Knight escaped from the citadel.\n\nOn the 16th of February the Committee of Secrecy made their first report\nto the House. They stated that their inquiry had been attended with\nnumerous difficulties and embarrassments; every one they had examined\nhad endeavoured, as far as in him lay, to defeat the ends of justice. In\nsome of the books produced before them, false and fictitious entries had\nbeen made; in others, there were entries of money, with blanks for the\nname of the stockholders. There were frequent erasures and alterations,\nand in some of the books leaves were torn out. They also found that some\nbooks of great importance had been destroyed altogether, and that\nsome had been taken away or secreted. At the very entrance into their\ninquiry, they had observed that the matters referred to them were of\ngreat variety and extent. Many persons had been intrusted with various\nparts in the execution of the law, and under colour thereof had acted\nin an unwarrantable manner, in disposing of the properties of many\nthousands of persons, amounting to many millions of money. They\ndiscovered that, before the South Sea Act was passed, there was an entry\nin the Company's books of the sum of 1,259,325 pounds, upon account of\nstock stated to have been sold to the amount of 574,500 pounds. This\nstock was all fictitious, and had been disposed of with a view to\npromote the passing of the bill. It was noted as sold at various days,\nand at various prices, from 150 to 325 per cent. Being surprised to see\nso large an account disposed of, at a time when the Company were\nnot empowered to increase their capital, the committee determined\nto investigate most carefully the whole transaction. The governor,\nsub-governor, and several directors were brought before them, and\nexamined rigidly. They found that, at the time these entries were made,\nthe Company was not in possession of such a quantity of stock, having\nin their own right only a small quantity, not exceeding thirty thousand\npounds at the utmost. Pursuing the inquiry, they found that this amount\nof stock, was to be esteemed as taken in or holden by the Company, for\nthe benefit of the pretended purchasers, although no mutual agreement\nwas made for its delivery or acceptance at any certain time. No money\nwas paid down, nor any deposit or security whatever given to the Company\nby the supposed purchasers; so that if the stock had fallen, as might\nhave been expected, had the act not passed, they would have sustained no\nloss. If, on the contrary, the price of stock advanced (as it actually\ndid by the success of the scheme), the difference by the advanced price\nwas to be made good to them. Accordingly, after the passing of the act,\nthe account of stock was made up and adjusted with Mr. Knight, and the\npretended purchasers were paid the difference out of the Company's cash.\nThis fictitious stock, which had been chiefly at the disposal of Sir\nJohn Blunt, Mr. Gibbon, and Mr. Knight, was distributed among several\nmembers of the government and their connexions, by way of bribe, to\nfacilitate the passing of the bill. To the Earl of Sunderland was\nassigned 50,000 pounds of this stock; to the Duchess of Kendal 10,000\npounds; to the Countess of Platen 10,000 pounds; to her two nieces\n10,000 pounds; to Mr. Secretary Craggs 30,000 pounds; to Mr. Charles\nStanhope (one of the Secretaries of the Treasury) 10,000 pounds; to the\nSwordblade Company 50,000 pounds. It also appeared that Mr. Stanhope\nhad received the enormous sum of 250,000 pounds as the difference in the\nprice of some stock, through the hands of Turner, Caswall, and Co., but\nthat his name had been partly erased from their books, and altered to\nStangape. Aislabie, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, had made profits\nstill more abominable. He had an account with the same firm, who were\nalso South Sea directors, to the amount of 794,451 pounds. He had,\nbesides, advised the Company to make their second subscription one\nmillion and a half, instead of a million, by their own authority, and\nwithout any warrant. The third subscription had been conducted in a\nmanner as disgraceful. Mr. Aislabie's name was down for 70,000 pounds;\nMr. Craggs, senior, for 659,000 pounds; the Earl of Sunderland's for\n160,000 pounds; and Mr. Stanhope for 47,000 pounds. This report was\nsucceeded by six others, less important. At the end of the last, the\ncommittee declared that the absence of Knight, who had been principally\nintrusted, prevented them from carrying on their inquiries.\n\nThe first report was ordered to be printed, and taken into consideration\non the next day but one succeeding. After a very angry and animated\ndebate, a series of resolutions were agreed to, condemnatory of the\nconduct of the directors, of the members of the Parliament and of the\nadministration concerned with them; and declaring that they ought, each\nand all, to make satisfaction out of their own estates for the injury\nthey had done the public. Their practices were declared to be corrupt,\ninfamous, and dangerous; and a bill was ordered to be brought in for the\nrelief of the unhappy sufferers.\n\nMr. Charles Stanhope was the first person brought to account for his\nshare in these transactions. He urged in his defence that, for some\nyears past, he had lodged all the money he was possessed of in Mr.\nKnight's hands, and whatever stock Mr. Knight had taken in for him, he\nhad paid a valuable consideration for it. As to the stock that had been\nbought for him by Turner, Caswall, and Co. he knew nothing about it.\nWhatever had been done in that matter was done without his authority,\nand he could not be responsible for it. Turner and Co. took the latter\ncharge upon themselves, but it was notorious to every unbiased and\nunprejudiced person that Mr. Stanhope was a gainer of the 250,000 pounds\nwhich lay in the hands of that firm to his credit. He was, however,\nacquitted by a majority of three only. The greatest exertions were made\nto screen him. Lord Stanhope, the son of the Earl of Chesterfield, went\nround to the wavering members, using all the eloquence he was possessed\nof to induce them either to vote for the acquittal or to absent\nthemselves from the house. Many weak-headed country-gentlemen were led\nastray by his persuasions, and the result was as already stated. The\nacquittal caused the greatest discontent throughout the country. Mobs\nof a menacing character assembled in different parts of London; fears\nof riots were generally entertained, especially as the examination of\na still greater delinquent was expected by many to have a similar\ntermination. Mr. Aislabie, whose high office and deep responsibilities\nshould have kept him honest, even had native principle been\ninsufficient, was very justly regarded as perhaps the greatest criminal\nof all. His case was entered into on the day succeeding the acquittal of\nMr. Starthope. Great excitement prevailed, and the lobbies and avenues\nof the house were beset by crowds, impatient to know the result. The\ndebate lasted the whole day. Mr. Aislabie found few friends: his guilt\nwas so apparent and so heinous that nobody had courage to stand up in\nhis favour. It was finally resolved, without a dissentient voice, that\nMr. Aislabie had encouraged and promoted the destructive execution of\nthe South Sea scheme with a view to his own exorbitant profit, and had\ncombined with the directors in their pernicious practices to the ruin\nof the public trade and credit of the kingdom: that he should for\nhis offences be ignominiously expelled from the House of Commons, and\ncommitted a close prisoner to the Tower of London; that he should be\nrestrained from going out of the kingdom for a whole year, or till the\nend of the next session of Parliament; and that he should make out a\ncorrect account of all his estate, in order that it might be applied to\nthe relief of those who had suffered by his malpractices.\n\nThis verdict caused the greatest joy. Though it was delivered at\nhalf-past twelve at night, it soon spread over the city. Several persons\nilluminated their houses in token of their joy. On the following day,\nwhen Mr. Aislabie was conveyed to the Tower, the mob assembled on\nTower-hill with the intention of hooting and pelting him. Not succeeding\nin this, they kindled a large bonfire, and danced around it in the\nexuberance of their delight. Several bonfires were made in other places;\nLondon presented the appearance of a holiday, and people congratulated\none another as if they had just escaped from some great calamity. The\nrage upon the acquittal of Mr. Stanhope had grown to such a height that\nnone could tell where it would have ended, had Mr. Aislabie met with the\nlike indulgence.\n\nTo increase the public satisfaction, Sir George Caswall, of the firm of\nTurner, Caswall, & Co. was expelled the House on the following day, and\nordered to refund the sum of 250,000 pounds.\n\nThat part of the report of the Committee of Secrecy which related to the\nEarl of Sunderland was next taken into consideration. Every effort was\nmade to clear his Lordship from the imputation. As the case against him\nrested chiefly on the evidence extorted from Sir John Blunt, great\npains were taken to make it appear that Sir John's word was not to be\nbelieved, especially in a matter affecting the honour of a peer and\nprivy councillor. All the friends of the ministry rallied around the\nEarl, it being generally reported that a verdict of guilty against him\nwould bring a Tory ministry into power. He was eventually acquitted,\nby a majority of 233 against 172; but the country was convinced of his\nguilt. The greatest indignation was everywhere expressed, and menacing\nmobs again assembled in London. Happily no disturbances took place.\n\nThis was the day on which Mr. Craggs, the elder, expired. The morrow had\nbeen appointed for the consideration of his case. It was very generally\nbelieved that he had poisoned himself. It appeared, however, that grief\nfor the loss of his son, one of the Secretaries of the Treasury, who had\ndied five weeks previously of the small-pox, preyed much on his mind.\nFor this son, dearly beloved, he had been amassing vast heaps of riches:\nhe had been getting money, but not honestly; and he for whose sake he\nhad bartered his honour and sullied his fame, was now no more. The\ndread of further exposure increased his trouble of mind, and ultimately\nbrought on an apoplectic fit, in which he expired. He left a fortune of\na million and a half, which was afterwards confiscated for the\nbenefit of the sufferers by the unhappy delusion he had been so mainly\ninstrumental in raising.\n\nOne by one the case of every director of the Company was taken into\nconsideration. A sum amounting to two millions and fourteen thousand\npounds was confiscated from their estates towards repairing the mischief\nthey had done, each man being allowed a certain residue, in proportion\nto his conduct and circumstances, with which he might begin the world\nanew. Sir John Blunt was only allowed 5,000 pounds out of his fortune\nof upwards of 183,000 pounds; Sir John Fellows was allowed 10,000\npounds out of 243,000 pounds; Sir Theodore Janssen, 50,000 pounds out of\n243,000 pounds; Mr. Edward Gibbon, 10,000 pounds out of 106,000 pounds.;\nSir John Lambert, 5000 pounds out of 72,000 pounds. Others, less deeply\ninvolved, were treated with greater liberality. Gibbon, the historian,\nwhose grandfather was the Mr. Edward Gibbon so severely mulcted, has\ngiven, in the Memoirs of his Life and Writings, an interesting account\nof the proceedings in Parliament at this time. He owns that he is not an\nunprejudiced witness; but, as all the writers from which it is possible\nto extract any notice of the proceedings of these disastrous years,\nwere prejudiced on the other side, the statements of the great historian\nbecome of additional value. If only on the principle of audi alteram\npartem, his opinion is entitled to consideration. \"In the year 1716,\" he\nsays, \"my grandfather was elected one of the directors of the South Sea\nCompany, and his books exhibited the proof that before his acceptance\nof that fatal office, he had acquired an independent fortune of 60,000\npounds. But his fortune was overwhelmed in the shipwreck of the year\ntwenty, and the labours of thirty years were blasted in a single day. Of\nthe use or abuse of the South Sea scheme, of the guilt or innocence of\nmy grandfather and his brother directors, I am neither a competent nor\na disinterested judge. Yet the equity of modern times must condemn the\nviolent and arbitrary proceedings, which would have disgraced the cause\nof justice, and rendered injustice still more odious. No sooner had\nthe nation awakened from its golden dream, than a popular, and even a\nParliamentary clamour, demanded its victims; but it was acknowledged on\nall sides, that the directors, however guilty, could not be touched by\nany known laws of the land. The intemperate notions of Lord Molesworth\nwere not literally acted on; but a bill of pains and penalties was\nintroduced--a retro-active statute, to punish the offences which did not\nexist at the time they were committed. The Legislature restrained the\npersons of the directors, imposed an exorbitant security for their\nappearance, and marked their character with a previous note of ignominy.\nThey were compelled to deliver, upon oath, the strict value of their\nestates, and were disabled from making any transfer or alienation of any\npart of their property. Against a bill of pains and penalties, it is\nthe common right of every subject to be heard by his counsel at the bar.\nThey prayed to be heard. Their prayer was refused, and their oppressors,\nwho required no evidence, would listen to no defence. It had been at\nfirst proposed, that one eighth of their respective estates should be\nallowed for the future support of the directors; but it was speciously\nurged, that in the various shades of opulence and guilt, such a\nproportion would be too light for many, and for some might possibly\nbe too heavy. The character and conduct of each man were separately\nweighed; but, instead of the calm solemnity of a judicial inquiry, the\nfortune and honour of thirty-three Englishmen were made the topics of\nhasty conversation, the sport of a lawless majority; and the basest\nmember of the committee, by a malicious word, or a silent vote, might\nindulge his general spleen or personal animosity. Injury was aggravated\nby insult, and insult was embittered by pleasantry. Allowances of 20\npounds or 1 shilling were facetiously moved. A vague report that a\ndirector had formerly been concerned in another project, by which some\nunknown persons had lost their money, was admitted as a proof of his\nactual guilt. One man was ruined because he had dropped a foolish\nspeech, that his horses should feed upon gold; another, because he was\ngrown so proud, that one day, at the Treasury, he had refused a civil\nanswer to persons much above him. All were condemned, absent and\nunheard, in arbitrary fines and forfeitures, which swept away the\ngreatest part of their substance. Such bold oppression can scarcely\nbe shielded by the omnipotence of Parliament. My grandfather could not\nexpect to be treated with more lenity than his companions. His Tory\nprinciples and connexions rendered him obnoxious to the ruling powers.\nHis name was reported in a suspicious secret. His well-known abilities\ncould not plead the excuse of ignorance or error. In the first\nproceedings against the South Sea directors, Mr. Gibbon was one of the\nfirst taken into custody, and in the final sentence the measure of\nhis fine proclaimed him eminently guilty. The total estimate, which he\ndelivered on oath to the House of Commons, amounted to 106,543 pounds\n5 shillings 6 pence, exclusive of antecedent settlements. Two different\nallowances of 15,000 pounds and of 10,000 pounds were moved for Mr.\nGibbon; but, on the question being put, it was carried without a\ndivision for the smaller sum. On these ruins, with the skill and credit\nof which Parliament had not been able to despoil him, my grandfather,\nat a mature age, erected the edifice of a new fortune. The labours of\nsixteen years were amply rewarded; and I have reason to believe that the\nsecond structure was not much inferior to the first.\"\n\nThe next consideration of the Legislature, after the punishment of the\ndirectors, was to restore public credit. The scheme of Walpole had been\nfound insufficient, and had fallen into disrepute. A computation was\nmade of the whole capital stock of the South Sea Company at the end of\nthe year 1720. It was found to amount to thirty-seven millions eight\nhundred thousand pounds, of which the stock allotted to all the\nproprietors only amounted to twenty-four millions five hundred thousand\npounds. The remainder of thirteen millions three hundred thousand pounds\nbelonged to the Company in their corporate capacity, and was the profit\nthey had made by the national delusion. Upwards of eight millions of\nthis were taken from the Company, and divided among the proprietors and\nsubscribers generally, making a dividend of about 33 pounds 6 shillings\n8 pence per cent. This was a great relief. It was further ordered, that\nsuch persons as had borrowed money from the South Sea Company upon stock\nactually transferred and pledged at the time of borrowing to or for the\nuse of the Company, should be free from all demands, upon payment of ten\nper cent. of the sums so borrowed. They had lent about eleven millions\nin this manner, at a time when prices were unnaturally raised; and they\nnow received back one million one hundred thousand, when prices had sunk\nto their ordinary level.\n\nBut it was a long time before public credit was thoroughly restored.\nEnterprise, like Icarus, had soared too high, and melted the wax of\nher wings; like Icarus, she had fallen into a sea, and learned, while\nfloundering in its waves, that her proper element was the solid ground.\nShe has never since attempted so high a flight.\n\nIn times of great commercial prosperity there has been a tendency to\nover-speculation on several occasions since then. The success of\none project generally produces others of a similar kind. Popular\nimitativeness will always, in a trading nation, seize hold of such\nsuccesses, and drag a community too anxious for profits into an abyss\nfrom which extrication is difficult. Bubble companies, of a kind similar\nto those engendered by the South Sea project, lived their little day\nin the famous year of the panic, 1825. On that occasion, as in 1720,\nknavery gathered a rich harvest from cupidity, but both suffered when\nthe day of reckoning came. The schemes of the year 1836 threatened, at\none time, results as disastrous; but they were happily averted before\nit was too late. The South Sea project thus remains, and, it is to be\nhoped, always will remain, the greatest example in British history, of\nthe infatuation of the people for commercial gambling. From the bitter\nexperience of that period, posterity may learn how dangerous it is to\nlet speculation riot unrestrained, and to hope for enormous profits from\ninadequate causes. Degrading as were the circumstances, there is wisdom\nto be gained from the lesson which they teach.\n\n\n\n\nTHE TULIPOMANIA.\n\n     Quis furor o cives!--Lucan.\n\nThe tulip,--so named, it is said, from a Turkish word, signifying a\nturban,--was introduced into western Europe about the middle of the\nsixteenth century. Conrad Gesner, who claims the merit of having brought\nit into repute,--little dreaming of the extraordinary commotion it was\nto make in the world,--says that he first saw it in the year 1559, in a\ngarden at Augsburg, belonging to the learned Counsellor Herwart, a man\nvery famous in his day for his collection of rare exotics. The bulbs\nwere sent to this gentleman by a friend at Constantinople, where the\nflower had long been a favourite. In the course of ten or eleven\nyears after this period, tulips were much sought after by the wealthy,\nespecially in Holland and Germany. Rich people at Amsterdam sent for the\nbulbs direct to Constantinople, and paid the most extravagant prices\nfor them. The first roots planted in England were brought from Vienna\nin 1600. Until the year 1634 the tulip annually increased in reputation,\nuntil it was deemed a proof of bad taste in any man of fortune to be\nwithout a collection of them. Many learned men, including Pompeius de\nAngelis and the celebrated Lipsius of Leyden, the author of the\ntreatise \"De Constantia,\" were passionately fond of tulips. The rage for\npossessing them soon caught the middle classes of society, and merchants\nand shopkeepers, even of moderate means, began to vie with each other\nin the rarity of these flowers and the preposterous prices they paid for\nthem. A trader at Harlaem was known to pay one-half of his fortune for a\nsingle root--not with the design of selling it again at a profit, but to\nkeep in his own conservatory for the admiration of his acquaintance.\n\nOne would suppose that there must have been some great virtue in this\nflower to have made it so valuable in the eyes of so prudent a people\nas the Dutch; but it has neither the beauty nor the perfume of the\nrose--hardly the beauty of the \"sweet, sweet-pea;\" neither is it as\nenduring as either. Cowley, it is true, is loud in its praise. He says--\n\n     \"The tulip next appeared, all over gay,\n     But wanton, full of pride, and full of play;\n     The world can't show a dye but here has place;\n     Nay, by new mixtures, she can change her face;\n     Purple and gold are both beneath her care--\n     The richest needlework she loves to wear;\n     Her only study is to please the eye,\n     And to outshine the rest in finery.\"\n\nThis, though not very poetical, is the description of a poet. Beckmann,\nin his History of Inventions, paints it with more fidelity, and in prose\nmore pleasing than Cowley's poetry. He says, \"There are few plants which\nacquire, through accident, weakness, or disease, so many variegations as\nthe tulip. When uncultivated, and in its natural state, it is almost of\none colour, has large leaves, and an extraordinarily long stem. When it\nhas been weakened by cultivation, it becomes more agreeable in the eyes\nof the florist. The petals are then paler, smaller, and more diversified\nin hue; and the leaves acquire a softer green colour. Thus this\nmasterpiece of culture, the more beautiful it turns, grows so much the\nweaker, so that, with the greatest skill and most careful attention, it\ncan scarcely be transplanted, or even kept alive.\"\n\nMany persons grow insensibly attached to that which gives them a great\ndeal of trouble, as a mother often loves her sick and ever-ailing child\nbetter than her more healthy offspring. Upon the same principle we must\naccount for the unmerited encomia lavished upon these fragile blossoms.\nIn 1634, the rage among the Dutch to possess them was so great that the\nordinary industry of the country was neglected, and the population,\neven to its lowest dregs, embarked in the tulip trade. As the mania\nincreased, prices augmented, until, in the year 1635, many persons were\nknown to invest a fortune of 100,000 florins in the purchase of forty\nroots. It then became necessary to sell them by their weight in perits,\na small weight less than a grain. A tulip of the species called Admiral\nLiefken, weighing 400 perits, was worth 4400 florins; an Admiral Von\nder Eyk, weighing 446 perits, was worth 1260 florins; a shilder of 106\nperits was worth 1615 florins; a viceroy of 400 perits, 3000 florins,\nand, most precious of all, a Semper Augustus, weighing 200 perits, was\nthought to be very cheap at 5500 florins. The latter was much sought\nafter, and even an inferior bulb might command a price of 2000 florins.\nIt is related that, at one time, early in 1636, there were only two\nroots of this description to be had in all Holland, and those not of the\nbest. One was in the possession of a dealer in Amsterdam, and the other\nin Harlaem. So anxious were the speculators to obtain them that one\nperson offered the fee-simple of twelve acres of building ground for\nthe Harlaem tulip. That of Amsterdam was bought for 4600 florins, a new\ncarriage, two grey horses, and a complete suit of harness. Munting, an\nindustrious author of that day, who wrote a folio volume of one thousand\npages upon the tulipomania, has preserved the following list of the\nvarious articles, and their value, which were delivered for one single\nroot of the rare species called the viceroy:--\n\n                                    florins.\n     Two lasts of wheat..............  448\n     Four lasts of rye...............  558\n     Four fat oxen...................  480\n     Eight fat swine.................  240\n     Twelve fat sheep................  120\n     Two hogsheads of wine...........   70\n     Four tuns of beer...............   32\n     Two tons of butter..............  192\n     One thousand lbs. of cheese.....  120\n     A complete bed..................  100\n     A suit of clothes...............   80\n     A silver drinking cup...........   60\n     -----\n                                      2500\n     -----\n\nPeople who had been absent from Holland, and whose chance it was to\nreturn when this folly was at its maximum, were sometimes led into\nawkward dilemmas by their ignorance. There is an amusing instance of\nthe kind related in Blainville's Travels. A wealthy merchant, who prided\nhimself not a little on his rare tulips, received upon one occasion a\nvery valuable consignment of merchandise from the Levant. Intelligence\nof its arrival was brought him by a sailor, who presented himself\nfor that purpose at the counting-house, among bales of goods of every\ndescription. The merchant, to reward him for his news, munificently made\nhim a present of a fine red herring for his breakfast. The sailor had,\nit appears, a great partiality for onions, and seeing a bulb very like\nan onion lying upon the counter of this liberal trader, and thinking it,\nno doubt, very much out of its place among silks and velvets, he slily\nseized an opportunity and slipped it into his pocket, as a relish for\nhis herring. He got clear off with his prize, and proceeded to the\nquay to eat his breakfast. Hardly was his back turned when the merchant\nmissed his valuable Semper Augustus, worth three thousand florins, or\nabout 280 pounds sterling. The whole establishment was instantly in an\nuproar; search was everywhere made for the precious root, but it was not\nto be found. Great was the merchant's distress of mind. The search was\nrenewed, but again without success. At last some one thought of the\nsailor.\n\nThe unhappy merchant sprang into the street at the bare suggestion. His\nalarmed household followed him. The sailor, simple soul! had not\nthought of concealment. He was found quietly sitting on a coil of ropes,\nmasticating the last morsel of his \"onion.\" Little did he dream that he\nhad been eating a breakfast whose cost might have regaled a whole ship's\ncrew for a twelvemonth; or, as the plundered merchant himself expressed\nit, \"might have sumptuously feasted the Prince of Orange and the whole\ncourt of the Stadtholder.\" Anthony caused pearls to be dissolved in\nwine to drink the health of Cleopatra; Sir Richard Whittington was\nas foolishly magnificent in an entertainment to King Henry V; and Sir\nThomas Gresham drank a diamond, dissolved in wine, to the health of\nQueen Elizabeth, when she opened the Royal Exchange: but the breakfast\nof this roguish Dutchman was as splendid as either. He had an advantage,\ntoo, over his wasteful predecessors: their gems did not improve the\ntaste or the wholesomeness of their wine, while his tulip was quite\ndelicious with his red herring. The most unfortunate part of the\nbusiness for him was, that he remained in prison for some months, on a\ncharge of felony, preferred against him by the merchant.\n\nAnother story is told of an English traveller, which is scarcely less\nludicrous. This gentleman, an amateur botanist, happened to see a\ntulip-root lying in the conservatory of a wealthy Dutchman. Being\nignorant of its quality, he took out his penknife, and peeled off its\ncoats, with the view of making experiments upon it. When it was by\nthis means reduced to half its original size, he cut it into two equal\nsections, making all the time many learned remarks on the singular\nappearances of the unknown bulb. Suddenly the owner pounced upon him,\nand, with fury in his eyes, asked him if he knew what he had been doing?\n\"Peeling a most extraordinary onion,\" replied the philosopher. \"Hundert\ntausend duyvel,\" said the Dutchman; \"it's an Admiral Van der E. yck.\"\n\"Thank you,\" replied the traveller, taking out his note-book to make\na memorandum of the same; \"are these admirals common in your country?\"\n\"Death and the devil,\" said the Dutchman, seizing the astonished man of\nscience by the collar; \"come before the syndic, and you shall see.\" In\nspite of his remonstrances, the traveller was led through the streets,\nfollowed by a mob of persons. When brought into the presence of the\nmagistrate, he learned, to his consternation, that the root upon which\nhe had been experimentalizing was worth four thousand florins; and,\nnotwithstanding all he could urge in extenuation, he was lodged in\nprison until he found securities for the payment of this sum.\n\nThe demand for tulips of a rare species increased so much in the year\n1636, that regular marts for their sale were established on the Stock\nExchange of Amsterdam, in Rotterdam, Harlaem, Leyden, Alkmar, Hoorn,\nand other towns. Symptoms of gambling now became, for the first time,\napparent. The stockjobbers, ever on the alert for a new speculation,\ndealt largely in tulips, making use of all the means they so well knew\nhow to employ, to cause fluctuations in prices. At first, as in all\nthese gambling mania, confidence was at its height, and everybody\ngained. The tulip-jobbers speculated in the rise and fall of the tulip\nstocks, and made large profits by buying when prices fell, and selling\nout when they rose. Many individuals grew suddenly rich. A golden bait\nhung temptingly out before the people, and, one after the other, they\nrushed to the tulip marts, like flies around a honeypot. Every one\nimagined that the passion for tulips would last for ever, and that the\nwealthy from every part of the world would send to Holland, and pay\nwhatever prices were asked for them. The riches of Europe would be\nconcentrated on the shores of the Zuyder Zee, and poverty banished from\nthe favoured clime of Holland. Nobles, citizens, farmers, mechanics,\nseamen, footmen, maidservants, even chimney-sweeps and old clotheswomen,\ndabbled in tulips. People of all grades converted their property into\ncash, and invested it in flowers. Houses and lands were offered for sale\nat ruinously low prices, or assigned in payment of bargains made at the\ntulip-mart. Foreigners became smitten with the same frenzy, and money\npoured into Holland from all directions. The prices of the necessaries\nof life rose again by degrees; houses and lands, horses and carriages,\nand luxuries of every sort, rose in value with them, and for some months\nHolland seemed the very antechamber of Plutus. The operations of the\ntrade became so extensive and so intricate, that it was found necessary\nto draw up a code of laws for the guidance of the dealers. Notaries and\nclerks were also appointed, who devoted themselves exclusively to the\ninterests of the trade. The designation of public notary was hardly\nknown in some towns, that of tulip notary usurping its place. In the\nsmaller towns, where there was no exchange, the principal tavern was\nusually selected as the \"showplace,\" where high and low traded in\ntulips, and confirmed their bargains over sumptuous entertainments.\nThese dinners were sometimes attended by two or three hundred persons,\nand large vases of tulips, in full bloom, were placed at regular\nintervals upon the tables and sideboards, for their gratification during\nthe repast.\n\nAt last, however, the more prudent began to see that this folly could\nnot last for ever. Rich people no longer bought the flowers to keep them\nin their gardens, but to sell them again at cent. per cent. profit.\nIt was seen that somebody must lose fearfully in the end. As this\nconviction spread, prices fell, and never rose again. Confidence was\ndestroyed, and a universal panic seized upon the dealers. A had agreed\nto purchase ten Sempers Augustines from B, at four thousand florins\neach, at six weeks after the signing of the contract. B was ready with\nthe flowers at the appointed time; but the price had fallen to three\nor four hundred florins, and A refused either to pay the difference or\nreceive the tulips. Defaulters were announced day after day in all the\ntowns of Holland. Hundreds who, a few months previously, had begun to\ndoubt that there was such a thing as poverty in the land, suddenly found\nthemselves the possessors of a few bulbs, which nobody would buy, even\nthough they offered them at one quarter of the sums they had paid for\nthem. The cry of distress resounded everywhere, and each man accused\nhis neighbour. The few who had contrived to enrich themselves hid their\nwealth from the knowledge of their fellow-citizens, and invested it in\nthe English or other funds. Many who, for a brief season, had emerged\nfrom the humbler walks of life, were cast back into their original\nobscurity. Substantial merchants were reduced almost to beggary, and\nmany a representative of a noble line saw the fortunes of his house\nruined beyond redemption.\n\nWhen the first alarm subsided, the tulip-holders in the several towns\nheld public meetings to devise what measures were best to be taken to\nrestore public credit. It was generally agreed, that deputies should be\nsent from all parts to Amsterdam, to consult with the government upon\nsome remedy for the evil. The Government at first refused to interfere,\nbut advised the tulip-holders to agree to some plan among themselves.\nSeveral meetings were held for this purpose; but no measure could be\ndevised likely to give satisfaction to the deluded people, or repair\neven a slight portion of the mischief that had been done. The language\nof complaint and reproach was in everybody's mouth, and all the\nmeetings were of the most stormy character. At last, however, after much\nbickering and ill-will, it was agreed, at Amsterdam, by the assembled\ndeputies, that all contracts made in the height of the mania, or prior\nto the month of November 1636, should be declared null and void, and\nthat, in those made after that date, purchasers should be freed from\ntheir engagements, on paying ten per cent. to the vendor. This decision\ngave no satisfaction. The vendors who had their tulips on hand were, of\ncourse, discontented, and those who had pledged themselves to purchase,\nthought themselves hardly treated. Tulips which had, at one time, been\nworth six thousand florins, were now to be procured for five hundred; so\nthat the composition of ten per cent. was one hundred florins more than\nthe actual value. Actions for breach of contract were threatened in all\nthe courts of the country; but the latter refused to take cognizance of\ngambling transactions.\n\nThe matter was finally referred to the Provincial Council at the Hague,\nand it was confidently expected that the wisdom of this body would\ninvent some measure by which credit should be restored. Expectation\nwas on the stretch for its decision, but it never came. The members\ncontinued to deliberate week after week, and at last, after thinking\nabout it for three months, declared that they could offer no final\ndecision until they had more information. They advised, however, that,\nin the mean time, every vendor should, in the presence of witnesses,\noffer the tulips in natura to the purchaser for the sums agreed upon. If\nthe latter refused to take them, they might be put up for sale by public\nauction, and the original contractor held responsible for the difference\nbetween the actual and the stipulated price. This was exactly the plan\nrecommended by the deputies, and which was already shown to be of no\navail. There was no court in Holland which would enforce payment. The\nquestion was raised in Amsterdam, but the judges unanimously refused to\ninterfere, on the ground that debts contracted in gambling were no debts\nin law.\n\nThus the matter rested. To find a remedy was beyond the power of the\ngovernment. Those who were unlucky enough to have had stores of tulips\non hand at the time of the sudden reaction were left to bear their\nruin as philosophically as they could; those who had made profits were\nallowed to keep them; but the commerce of the country suffered a severe\nshock, from which it was many years ere it recovered.\n\nThe example of the Dutch was imitated to some extent in England. In the\nyear 1636 tulips were publicly sold in the Exchange of London, and the\njobbers exerted themselves to the utmost to raise them to the fictitious\nvalue they had acquired in Amsterdam. In Paris also the jobbers strove\nto create a tulipomania. In both cities they only partially succeeded.\nHowever, the force of example brought the flowers into great favour,\nand amongst a certain class of people tulips have ever since been prized\nmore highly than any other flowers of the field. The Dutch are still\nnotorious for their partiality to them, and continue to pay higher\nprices for them than any other people. As the rich Englishman boasts of\nhis fine race-horses or his old pictures, so does the wealthy Dutchman\nvaunt him of his tulips.\n\n\nIn England, in our day, strange as it may appear, a tulip will produce\nmore money than an oak. If one could be found, rara in tetris, and black\nas the black swan alluded to by Juvenal, its price would equal that of\na dozen acres of standing corn. In Scotland, towards the close of the\nseventeenth century, the highest price for tulips, according to the\nauthority of a writer in the supplement to the third edition of the\n\"Encyclopedia Britannica,\" was ten guineas. Their value appears to have\ndiminished from that time till the year 1769, when the two most valuable\nspecies in England were the Don Quevedo and the Valentinier, the former\nof which was worth two guineas and the latter two guineas and a half.\nThese prices appear to have been the minimum. In the year 1800, a common\nprice was fifteen guineas for a single bulb. In 1835, so foolish were\nthe fanciers, that a bulb of the species called the Miss Fanny Kemble\nwas sold by public auction in London for seventy-five pounds. Still more\nastonishing was the price of a tulip in the possession of a gardener\nin the King's Road, Chelsea. In his catalogues, it was labelled at\ntwo hundred guineas! Thus a flower, which for beauty and perfume was\nsurpassed by the abundant roses of the garden,--a nosegay of which might\nbe purchased for a penny,--was priced at a sum which would have provided\nan industrious labourer and his family with food, and clothes, and\nlodging for six years! Should chickweed and groundsel ever come into\nfashion, the wealthy would, no doubt, vie with each other in adorning\ntheir gardens with them, and paying the most extravagant prices for\nthem. In so doing, they would hardly be more foolish than the admirers\nof tulips. The common prices for these flowers at the present time vary\nfrom five to fifteen guineas, according to the rarity of the species.\n\n\n\n\nRELICS.\n\n     A fouth o' auld knick-knackets,\n     Rusty airn caps and jinglin' jackets,\n     Wad haud the Lothians three, in tackets,\n     A towmond guid;\n     An' parritch pats, and auld saut backets,\n     Afore the flood.\n\n     Burns.\n\nThe love for relics is one which will never be eradicated as long as\nfeeling and affection are denizens of the heart. It is a love which is\nmost easily excited in the best and kindliest natures, and which few are\ncallous enough to scoff at. Who would not treasure the lock of hair that\nonce adorned the brow of the faithful wife, now cold in death, or that\nhung down the neck of a beloved infant, now sleeping under the sward?\nNot one. They are home-relics, whose sacred worth is intelligible\nto all; spoils rescued from the devouring grave, which, to the\naffectionate, are beyond all price. How dear to a forlorn survivor the\nbook over whose pages he has pored with one departed! How much greater\nits value, if that hand, now cold, had written a thought, an opinion, or\na name, upon the leaf! Besides these sweet, domestic relics, there are\nothers, which no one can condemn; relics sanctified by that admiration\nof greatness and goodness which is akin to love; such as the copy of\nMontaigne's Florio, with the name of Shakspeare upon the leaf, written\nby the poet of all time himself; the chair preserved at Antwerp, in\nwhich Rubens sat when he painted the immortal \"Descent from the Cross;\"\nor the telescope, preserved in the Museum of Florence, which aided\nGalileo in his sublime discoveries. Who would not look with veneration\nupon the undoubted arrow of William Tell--the swords of Wallace or of\nHampden--or the Bible whose leaves were turned by some stern old father\nof the faith?\n\nThus the principle of reliquism is hallowed and enshrined by love.\nBut from this germ of purity how numerous the progeny of errors and\nsuperstitions! Men, in their admiration of the great, and of all that\nappertained to them, have forgotten that goodness is a component part of\ntrue greatness, and have made fools of themselves for the jaw-bone of a\nsaint, the toe-nail of an apostle, the handkerchief a king blew his nose\nin, or the rope that hanged a criminal. Desiring to rescue some slight\ntoken from the graves of their predecessors, they have confounded the\nfamous and the infamous, the renowned and the notorious. Great saints,\ngreat sinners; great philosophers, great quacks; great conquerors, great\nmurderers; great ministers, great thieves; each and all have had their\nadmirers, ready to ransack earth, from the equator to either pole, to\nfind a relic of them.\n\nThe reliquism of modern times dates its origin from the centuries\nimmediately preceding the Crusades. The first pilgrims to the Holy Land\nbrought back to Europe thousands of apocryphal relics, in the purchase\nof which they had expended all their store. The greatest favourite was\nthe wood of the true cross, which, like the oil of the widow, never\ndiminished. It is generally asserted, in the traditions of the Romish\nChurch, that the Empress Helen, the mother of Constantine the Great,\nfirst discovered the veritable \"true cross\" in her pilgrimage to\nJerusalem. The Emperor Theodosius made a present of the greater part of\nit to St. Ambrose, Bishop of Milan, by whom it was studded with precious\nstones, and deposited in the principal church of that city. It was\ncarried away by the Huns, by whom it was burnt, after they had extracted\nthe valuable jewels it contained. Fragments, purporting to have been\ncut from it were, in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, to be found in\nalmost every church in Europe, and would, if collected together in one\nplace, have been almost sufficient to have built a cathedral. Happy\nwas the sinner who could get a sight of one of them; happier he who\npossessed one! To obtain them the greatest dangers were cheerfully\nbraved. They were thought to preserve from all evils, and to cure the\nmost inveterate diseases. Annual pilgrimages were made to the shrines\nthat contained them, and considerable revenues collected from the\ndevotees.\n\nNext in renown were those precious relics, the tears of the Saviour. By\nwhom and in what manner they were preserved, the pilgrims did not often\ninquire. Their genuineness was vouched by the Christians of the Holy\nLand, and that was sufficient. Tears of the Virgin Mary, and tears of\nSt. Peter, were also to be had, carefully enclosed in little caskets,\nwhich the pious might wear in their bosoms. After the tears the next\nmost precious relics were drops of the blood of Jesus and the martyrs.\nHair and toe-nails were also in great repute, and were sold at\nextravagant prices. Thousands of pilgrims annually visited Palestine in\nthe eleventh and twelfth centuries, to purchase pretended relics for the\nhome market. The majority of them had no other means of subsistence than\nthe profits thus obtained. Many a nail, cut from the filthy foot of some\nunscrupulous ecclesiastic, was sold at a diamond's price, within six\nmonths after its severance from its parent toe, upon the supposition\nthat it had once belonged to a saint. Peter's toes were uncommonly\nprolific, for there were nails enough in Europe, at the time of the\nCouncil of Clermont, to have filled a sack, all of which were devoutly\nbelieved to have grown on the sacred feet of that great apostle. Some of\nthem are still shown in the cathedral of Aix-la-Chapelle. The pious come\nfrom a distance of a hundred German miles to feast their eyes upon them.\n\nAt Port Royal, in Paris, is kept with great care a thorn, which the\npriests of that seminary assert to be one of the identical thorns that\nbound the holy head of the Son of God. How it came there, and by whom\nit was preserved, has never been explained. This is the famous thorn,\ncelebrated in the long dissensions of the Jansenists and the Molenists,\nand which worked the miraculous cure upon Mademoiselle Perrier: by\nmerely kissing it, she was cured of a disease of the eyes of long\nstanding. [Voltaire, Siecle de Louis XIV.]\n\nWhat traveller is unacquainted with the Santa Scala, or Holy Stairs, at\nRome? They were brought from Jerusalem along with the true cross, by the\nEmpress Helen, and were taken from the house which, according to popular\ntradition, was inhabited by Pontius Pilate. They are said to be the\nsteps which Jesus ascended and descended when brought into the presence\nof the Roman governor. They are held in the greatest veneration at Rome:\nit is sacrilegious to walk upon them. The knees of the faithful must\nalone touch them in ascending or descending, and that only after they\nhave reverentially kissed them.\n\nEurope still swarms with these religious relics. There is hardly a Roman\nCatholic church in Spain, Portugal, Italy, France, or Belgium, without\none or more of them. Even the poorly endowed churches of the villages\nboast the possession of miraculous thigh-bones of the innumerable\nsaints of the Romish calendar. Aix-la-Chapelle is proud of the veritable\nchasse, or thigh-bone of Charlemagne, which cures lameness. Halle has a\nthighbone of the Virgin Mary; Spain has seven or eight, all said to be\nundoubted relics. Brussels at one time preserved, and perhaps does now,\nthe teeth of St. Gudule. The faithful, who suffered from the tooth-ache,\nhad only to pray, look at them, and be cured. Some of these holy bones\nhave been buried in different parts of the Continent. After a certain\nlapse of time, water is said to ooze from them, which soon forms a\nspring, and cures all the diseases of the faithful. At a church in\nHalle, there is a famous thigh-bone, which cures barrenness in women. Of\nthis bone, which is under the special superintendence of the Virgin, a\npleasant story is related by the incredulous. There resided at Ghent\na couple who were blessed with all the riches of this world, but whose\nhappiness was sore troubled by the want of children. Great was the\ngrief of the lady, who was both beautiful and loving, and many her\nlamentations to her husband. The latter, annoyed by her unceasing\nsorrow, advised her to make a pilgrimage to the celebrated chasse of\nthe Virgin. She went, was absent a week, and returned with a face all\nradiant with joy and pleasure. Her lamentations ceased, and, in nine\nmonths afterwards, she brought forth a son. But, oh! the instability of\nhuman joys! The babe, so long desired and so greatly beloved, survived\nbut a few months. Two years passed over the heads of the disconsolate\ncouple, and no second child appeared to cheer their fire-side. A third\nyear passed away with the same result, and the lady once more began to\nweep. \"Cheer up, my love,\" said her husband, \"and go to the holy chasse,\nat Halle; perhaps the Virgin will again listen to your prayers.\" The\nlady took courage at the thought, wiped away her tears, and proceeded on\nthe morrow towards Halle. She was absent only three days, and returned\nhome sad, weeping, and sorrow-stricken. \"What is the matter?\" said\nher husband; \"is the Virgin unwilling to listen to your prayers?\" \"The\nVirgin is willing enough,\" said the disconsolate wife, \"and will do what\nshe can for me; but I shall never have any more children! The priest!\nthe priest!--He is gone from Halle, and nobody knows where to find him!\"\n\nIt is curious to remark the avidity manifested in all ages, and in all\ncountries, to obtain possession of some relic of any persons who have\nbeen much spoken of, even for their crimes. When William Longbeard,\nleader of the populace of London, in the reign of Richard I, was hanged\nat Smithfield, the utmost eagerness was shown to obtain a hair from\nhis head, or a shred from his garments. Women came from Essex, Kent,\nSuffolk, Sussex, and all the surrounding counties, to collect the mould\nat the foot of his gallows. A hair of his beard was believed to preserve\nfrom evil spirits, and a piece of his clothes from aches and pains.\n\nIn more modern days, a similar avidity was shown to obtain a relic of\nthe luckless Masaniello, the fisherman of Naples. After he had been\nraised by mob favour to a height of power more despotic than monarch\never wielded, he was shot by the same populace in the streets, as if he\nhad been a mad dog. His headless trunk was dragged through the mire for\nseveral hours, and cast at night-fall into the city ditch. On the morrow\nthe tide of popular feeling turned once more in his favour. His\ncorpse was sought, arrayed in royal robes, and buried magnificently\nby torch-light in the cathedral, ten thousand armed men, and as many\nmourners, attending at the ceremony. The fisherman's dress which he had\nworn was rent into shreds by the crowd, to be preserved as relics; the\ndoor of his hut was pulled off its hinges by a mob of women, and eagerly\ncut up into small pieces, to be made into images, caskets, and other\nmementos. The scanty furniture of his poor abode became of more value\nthan the adornments of a palace; the ground he had walked upon was\nconsidered sacred, and, being collected in small phials, was sold at its\nweight in gold, and worn in the bosom as an amulet.\n\nAlmost as extraordinary was the frenzy manifested by the populace of\nParis on the execution of the atrocious Marchioness de Brinvilliers.\nThere were grounds for the popular wonder in the case of Masaniello,\nwho was unstained with personal crimes. But the career of Madame de\nBrinvilliers was of a nature to excite no other feelings than disgust\nand abhorrence. She was convicted of poisoning several persons, and\nsentenced to be burned in the Place de Greve, and to have her ashes\nscattered to the winds. On the day of her execution, the populace,\nstruck by her gracefulness and beauty, inveighed against the severity of\nher sentence. Their pity soon increased to admiration, and, ere evening,\nshe was considered a saint. Her ashes were industriously collected, even\nthe charred wood, which had aided to consume her, was eagerly purchased\nby the populace. Her ashes were thought to preserve from witchcraft.\n\nIn England many persons have a singular love for the relics of thieves\nand murderers, or other great criminals. The ropes with which they have\nbeen hanged are very often bought by collectors at a guinea per foot.\nGreat sums were paid for the rope which hanged Dr. Dodd, and for those\nmore recently which did justice upon Mr. Fauntleroy for forgery, and\non Thurtell for the murder of Mr. Weare. The murder of Maria Marten,\nby Corder, in the year 1828, excited the greatest interest all over the\ncountry. People came from Wales and Scotland, and even from Ireland, to\nvisit the barn where the body of the murdered woman was buried. Every\none of them was anxious to carry away some memorial of his visit. Pieces\nof the barn-door, tiles from the roof, and, above all, the clothes of\nthe poor victim, were eagerly sought after. A lock of her hair was sold\nfor two guineas, and the purchaser thought himself fortunate in getting\nit so cheaply.\n\nSo great was the concourse of people to visit the house in Camberwell\nLane, where Greenacre murdered Hannah Brown, in 1837, that it was found\nnecessary to station a strong detachment of police on the spot. The\ncrowd was so eager to obtain a relic of the house of this atrocious\ncriminal, that the police were obliged to employ force to prevent the\ntables and chairs, and even the doors, from being carried away.\n\nIn earlier times, a singular superstition was attached to the hand of\na criminal who had suffered execution. It was thought that by merely\nrubbing the dead hand on the body, the patient afflicted with the king's\nevil would be instantly cured. The executioner at Newgate, sixty or\nseventy years ago, derived no inconsiderable revenue from this foolish\npractice. The possession of the hand was thought to be of still greater\nefficacy in the cure of diseases and the prevention of misfortunes. In\nthe time of Charles II as much as ten guineas was thought a small price\nfor one of these disgusting relics.\n\nWhen the maniac, Thom, or Courtenay, was shot, in the spring of 1838,\nthe relic-hunters were immediately in motion to obtain a memento of so\nextraordinary an individual. His long, black beard and hair, which were\ncut off by the surgeons, fell into the hands of his disciples, by\nwhom they are treasured with the utmost reverence. A lock of his hair\ncommands a great price, not only amongst his followers, but among the\nmore wealthy inhabitants of Canterbury and its neighbourhood. The tree\nagainst which he fell when he was shot, has already been stripped of all\nits bark by the curious, and bids fair to be entirely demolished within\na twelvemonth. A letter, with his signature to it, is paid for in gold\ncoins; and his favourite horse promises to become as celebrated as his\nmaster. Parties of ladies and gentlemen have come to Boughton from a\ndistance of a hundred and fifty miles, to visit the scene of that fatal\naffray, and stroke on the back the horse of the \"mad Knight of Malta.\"\nIf a strict watch had not been kept over his grave for months, the body\nwould have been disinterred, and the bones carried away as memorials.\n\nAmong the Chinese no relics are more valued than the boots which have\nbeen worn by an upright magistrate. In Davis's interesting Description\nof the Empire of China, we are informed, that whenever a judge of\nunusual integrity resigns his situation, the people all congregate to\ndo him honour. If he leaves the city where he has presided, the crowd\naccompany him from his residence to the gates, where his boots are drawn\noff with great ceremony, to be preserved in the hall of justice. Their\nplace is immediately supplied by a new pair, which, in their turn, are\ndrawn off to make room for others before he has worn them five minutes,\nit being considered sufficient to consecrate them that he should have\nmerely drawn them on.\n\nAmong the most favourite relics of modern times, in Europe, are\nShakspeare's mulberry-tree, Napoleon's willow, and the table at\nWaterloo, on which the Emperor wrote his despatches. Snuffboxes of\nShakspeare's mulberry-tree, are comparatively rare, though there are\ndoubtless more of them in the market than were ever made of the wood\nplanted by the great bard. Many a piece of alien wood passes under this\nname. The same may be said of Napoleon's table at Waterloo. The original\nhas long since been destroyed, and a round dozen of counterfeits along\nwith it. Many preserve the simple stick of wood; others have them cut\ninto brooches and every variety of ornament; but by far the greater\nnumber prefer them as snuff-boxes. In France they are made into\nbonbonnieres, and are much esteemed by the many thousands whose cheeks\nstill glow, and whose eyes still sparkle at the name of Napoleon.\n\nBullets from the field of Waterloo, and buttons from the coats of the\nsoldiers who fell in the fight, are still favourite relics in Europe.\nBut the same ingenuity which found new tables after the old one was\ndestroyed, has cast new bullets for the curious. Many a one who thinks\nhimself the possessor of a bullet which aided in giving peace to the\nworld on that memorable day, is the owner of a dump, first extracted\nfrom the ore a dozen years afterwards. Let all lovers of genuine relics\nlook well to their money before they part with it to the ciceroni that\nswarm in the village of Waterloo.\n\nFew travellers stop at the lonely isle of St. Helena, without cutting\na twig from the willow that droops over the grave of Napoleon. Many\nof them have since been planted in different parts of Europe, and have\ngrown into trees as large as their parent. Relic-hunters, who are unable\nto procure a twig of the original, are content with one from these.\nSeveral of them are growing in the neighbourhood of London, more prized\nby their cultivators than any other tree in their gardens. But in\nrelics, as in everything else, there is the use and the abuse. The\nundoubted relics of great men, or great events, will always possess\nattractions for the thinking and refined. There are few who would\nnot join with Cowley in the extravagant wish introduced in his lines\n\"written while sitting in a chair made of the remains of the ship in\nwhich Sir Francis Drake sailed round the world:\"--\n\n     And I myself, who now love quiet too,\n     Almost as much as any chair can do,\n     Would yet a journey take\n     An old wheel of that chariot to see,\n     Which Phaeton so rashly brake.\n\n\n\n\nMODERN PROPHECIES.\n\nAs epidemic terror of the end of the world has several times spread over\nthe nations. The most remarkable was that which seized Christendom about\nthe middle of the tenth century. Numbers of fanatics appeared in France,\nGermany, and Italy at that time, preaching that the thousand years\nprophesied in the Apocalypse as the term of the world's duration, were\nabout to expire, and that the Son of Man would appear in the clouds\nto judge the godly and the ungodly. The delusion appears to have been\ndiscouraged by the church, but it nevertheless spread rapidly among the\npeople. [See Gibbon and Voltaire for further notice of this subject.]\n\nThe scene of the last judgment was expected to be at Jerusalem. In\nthe year 999, the number of pilgrims proceeding eastward, to await the\ncoming of the Lord in that city, was so great that they were compared to\na desolating army. Most of them sold their goods and possessions before\nthey quitted Europe, and lived upon the proceeds in the Holy Land.\nBuildings of every sort were suffered to fall into ruins. It was thought\nuseless to repair them, when the end of the world was so near. Many\nnoble edifices were deliberately pulled down. Even churches, usually\nso well maintained, shared the general neglect. Knights, citizens, and\nserfs, travelled eastwards in company, taking with them their wives and\nchildren, singing psalms as they went, and looking with fearful eyes\nupon the sky, which they expected each minute to open, to let the Son of\nGod descend in his glory.\n\nDuring the thousandth year the number of pilgrims increased. Most of\nthem were smitten with terror as with a plague. Every phenomenon of\nnature filled them with alarm. A thunder-storm sent them all upon their\nknees in mid-march. It was the opinion that thunder was the voice of\nGod, announcing the day of judgment. Numbers expected the earth to\nopen, and give up its dead at the sound. Every meteor in the sky seen\nat Jerusalem brought the whole Christian population into the streets to\nweep and pray. The pilgrims on the road were in the same alarm:--\n\n     Lorsque, pendant la nuit, un globe de lumiere\n     S'echappa quelquefois de la voute des cieux,\n     Et traca dans sa chute un long sillon de feux,\n     La troupe suspendit sa marche solitaire.\n     [Charlemagne. Pomme Epique, par Lucien Buonaparte.]\n\nFanatic preachers kept up the flame of terror. Every shooting star\nfurnished occasion for a sermon, in which the sublimity of the\napproaching judgment was the principal topic.\n\nThe appearance of comets has been often thought to foretell the speedy\ndissolution of this world. Part of this belief still exists; but\nthe comet is no longer looked upon as the sign, but the agent of\ndestruction. So lately as in the year 1832 the greatest alarm spread\nover the Continent of Europe, especially in Germany, lest the comet,\nwhose appearance was then foretold by astronomers, should destroy the\nearth. The danger of our globe was gravely discussed. Many persons\nrefrained from undertaking or concluding any business during that year,\nin consequence solely of their apprehension that this terrible comet\nwould dash us and our world to atoms.\n\nDuring seasons of great pestilence men have often believed the\nprophecies of crazed fanatics, that the end of the world was come.\nCredulity is always greatest in times of calamity. Prophecies of all\nsorts are rife on such occasions, and are readily believed, whether for\ngood or evil. During the great plague, which ravaged all Europe, between\nthe years 1345 and 1350, it was generally considered that the end of\nthe world was at hand. Pretended prophets were to be found in all the\nprincipal cities of Germany, France, and Italy, predicting that within\nten years the trump of the Archangel would sound, and the Saviour appear\nin the clouds to call the earth to judgment.\n\nNo little consternation was created in London in 1736 by the prophecy of\nthe famous Whiston, that the world would be destroyed in that year, on\nthe 13th of October. Crowds of people went out on the appointed day to\nIslington, Hampstead, and the fields intervening, to see the destruction\nof London, which was to be the \"beginning of the end.\" A satirical\naccount of this folly is given in Swift's Miscellanies, vol. iii.\nentitled, \"A True and Faithful Narrative of what passed in London on a\nRumour of the Day of Judgment.\" An authentic narrative of this delusion\nwould be interesting; but this solemn witticism of Pope and Gay is not\nto be depended upon.\n\nIn the year 1761 the citizens of London were again frightened out of\ntheir wits by two shocks of an earthquake, and the prophecy of a third,\nwhich was to destroy them altogether. The first shock was felt on the\n8th of February, and threw down several chimneys in the neighbourhood of\nLimehouse and Poplar; the second happened on the 8th of March, and was\nchiefly felt in the north of London, and towards Hampstead and Highgate.\nIt soon became the subject of general remark, that there was exactly\nan interval of a month between the shocks; and a crack-brained fellow,\nnamed Bell, a soldier in the Life Guards, was so impressed with the idea\nthat there would be a third in another month, that he lost his senses\naltogether, and ran about the streets predicting the destruction of\nLondon on the 5th of April. Most people thought that the first would\nhave been a more appropriate day; but there were not wanting thousands\nwho confidently believed the prediction, and took measures to transport\nthemselves and families from the scene of the impending calamity. As the\nawful day approached, the excitement became intense, and great numbers\nof credulous people resorted to all the villages within a circuit\nof twenty miles, awaiting the doom of London. Islington, Highgate,\nHampstead, Harrow, and Blackheath, were crowded with panic-stricken\nfugitives, who paid exorbitant prices for accommodation to the\nhousekeepers of these secure retreats. Such as could not afford to pay\nfor lodgings at any of those places, remained in London until two or\nthree days before the time, and then encamped in the surrounding fields,\nawaiting the tremendous shock which was to lay their high city all level\nwith the dust. As happened during a similar panic in the time of Henry\nVIII, the fear became contagious, and hundreds who had laughed at the\nprediction a week before, packed up their goods, when they saw others\ndoing so, and hastened away. The river was thought to be a place of\ngreat security, and all the merchant vessels in the port were filled\nwith people, who passed the night between the 4th and 5th on board,\nexpecting every instant to see St. Paul's totter, and the towers of\nWestminster Abbey rock in the wind and fall amid a cloud of dust. The\ngreater part of the fugitives returned on the following day, convinced\nthat the prophet was a false one; but many judged it more prudent to\nallow a week to elapse before they trusted their dear limbs in London.\nBell lost all credit in a short time, and was looked upon even by the\nmost credulous as a mere madman. He tried some other prophecies, but\nnobody was deceived by them; and, in a few months afterwards, he was\nconfined in a lunatic asylum.\n\nA panic terror of the end of the world seized the good people of Leeds\nand its neighbourhood in the year 1806. It arose from the following\ncircumstances. A hen, in a village close by, laid eggs, on which were\ninscribed, in legible characters, the words \"Christ is coming.\" Great\nnumbers visited the spot, and examined these wondrous eggs, convinced\nthat the day of judgment was near at hand. Like sailors in a storm,\nexpecting every instant to go to the bottom, the believers suddenly\nbecame religious, prayed violently, and flattered themselves that they\nrepented them of their evil courses. But a plain tale soon put them\ndown, and quenched their religion entirely. Some gentlemen, hearing of\nthe matter, went one fine morning, and caught the poor hen in the act\nof laying one of her miraculous eggs. They soon ascertained beyond doubt\nthat the egg had been inscribed with some corrosive ink, and cruelly\nforced up again into the bird's body. At this explanation, those who had\nprayed, now laughed, and the world wagged as merrily as of yore.\n\nAt the time of the plague in Milan, in 1630, of which so affecting a\ndescription has been left us by Ripamonte, in his interesting work \"De\nPeste Mediolani\", the people, in their distress, listened with avidity\nto the predictions of astrologers and other impostors. It is singular\nenough that the plague was foretold a year before it broke out. A large\ncomet appearing in 1628, the opinions of astrologers were divided with\nregard to it. Some insisted that it was a forerunner of a bloody war;\nothers maintained that it predicted a great famine; but the greater\nnumber, founding their judgment upon its pale colour, thought it\nportended a pestilence. The fulfilment of their prediction brought them\ninto great repute while the plague was raging.\n\nOther prophecies were current, which were asserted to have been\ndelivered hundreds of years previously. They had a most pernicious\neffect upon the mind of the vulgar, as they induced a belief in\nfatalism. By taking away the hope of recovery--that greatest balm in\nevery malady--they increased threefold the ravages of the disease. One\nsingular prediction almost drove the unhappy people mad. An ancient\ncouplet, preserved for ages by tradition, foretold, that in the year\n1630 the devil would poison all Milan. Early one morning in April,\nand before the pestilence had reached its height, the passengers were\nsurprised to see that all the doors in the principal streets of the city\nwere marked with a curious daub, or spot, as if a sponge, filled with\nthe purulent matter of the plague-sores, had been pressed against them.\nThe whole population were speedily in movement to remark the strange\nappearance, and the greatest alarm spread rapidly. Every means was taken\nto discover the perpetrators, but in vain. At last the ancient prophecy\nwas remembered, and prayers were offered up in all the churches that\nthe machinations of the Evil One might be defeated. Many persons were\nof opinion that the emissaries of foreign powers were employed to spread\ninfectious poison over the city; but by far the greater number were\nconvinced that the powers of hell had conspired against them, and that\nthe infection was spread by supernatural agencies. In the mean time the\nplague increased fearfully. Distrust and alarm took possession of every\nmind. Everything was believed to have been poisoned by the devil; the\nwaters of the wells, the standing corn in the fields, and the fruit upon\nthe trees. It was believed that all objects of touch were poisoned; the\nwalls of the houses, the pavement of the streets, and the very handles\nof the doors. The populace were raised to a pitch of ungovernable fury.\nA strict watch was kept for the devil's emissaries, and any man who\nwanted to be rid of an enemy, had only to say that he had seen him\nbesmearing a door with ointment; his fate was certain death at the\nhands of the mob. An old man, upwards of eighty years of age, a daily\nfrequenter of the church of St. Antonio, was seen, on rising from his\nknees, to wipe with the skirt of his cloak the stool on which he was\nabout to sit down. A cry was raised immediately that he was besmearing\nthe seat with poison. A mob of women, by whom the church was crowded,\nseized hold of the feeble old man, and dragged him out by the hair of\nhis head, with horrid oaths and imprecations. He was trailed in this\nmanner through the mire to the house of the municipal judge, that he\nmight be put to the rack, and forced to discover his accomplices; but\nhe expired on the way. Many other victims were sacrificed to the popular\nfury. One Mora, who appears to have been half a chemist and half a\nbarber, was accused of being in league with the devil to poison Milan.\nHis house was surrounded, and a number of chemical preparations were\nfound. The poor man asserted, that they were intended as preservatives\nagainst infection; but some physicians, to whom they were submitted,\ndeclared they were poison. Mora was put to the rack, where he for a long\ntime asserted his innocence. He confessed at last, when his courage was\nworn down by torture, that he was in league with the devil and foreign\npowers to poison the whole city; that he had anointed the doors,\nand infected the fountains of water. He named several persons as his\naccomplices, who were apprehended and put to a similar torture. They\nwere all found guilty, and executed. Mora's house was rased to the\nground, and a column erected on the spot, with an inscription to\ncommemorate his guilt.\n\nWhile the public mind was filled with these marvellous occurrences, the\nplague continued to increase. The crowds that were brought together to\nwitness the executions, spread the infection among one another. But the\nfury of their passions, and the extent of their credulity, kept pace\nwith the violence of the plague; every wonderful and preposterous story\nwas believed. One, in particular, occupied them to the exclusion, for a\nlong time, of every other. The Devil himself had been seen. He had\ntaken a house in Milan, in which he prepared his poisonous unguents, and\nfurnished them to his emissaries for distribution. One man had brooded\nover such tales till he became firmly convinced that the wild flights of\nhis own fancy were realities. He stationed himself in the market-place\nof Milan, and related the following story to the crowds that gathered\nround him. He was standing, he said, at the door of the cathedral, late\nin the evening, and when there was nobody nigh, he saw a dark-coloured\nchariot, drawn by six milk-white horses, stop close beside him. The\nchariot was followed by a numerous train of domestics in dark liveries,\nmounted on dark-coloured steeds. In the chariot there sat a tall\nstranger of a majestic aspect; his long black hair floated in the\nwind--fire flashed from his large black eyes, and a curl of ineffable\nscorn dwelt upon his lips. The look of the stranger was so sublime\nthat he was awed, and trembled with fear when he gazed upon him. His\ncomplexion was much darker than that of any man he had ever seen,\nand the atmosphere around him was hot and suffocating. He perceived\nimmediately that he was a being of another world. The stranger, seeing\nhis trepidation, asked him blandly, yet majestically, to mount beside\nhim. He had no power to refuse, and before he was well aware that he\nhad moved, he found himself in the chariot. Onwards they went, with the\nrapidity of the wind, the stranger speaking no word, until they stopped\nbefore a door in the high-street of Milan. There was a crowd of people\nin the street, but, to his great surprise, no one seemed to notice the\nextraordinary equipage and its numerous train. From this he concluded\nthat they were invisible. The house at which they stopped appeared to\nbe a shop, but the interior was like a vast half-ruined palace. He went\nwith his mysterious guide through several large and dimly-lighted rooms.\nIn one of them, surrounded by huge pillars of marble, a senate of ghosts\nwas assembled, debating on the progress of the plague. Other parts\nof the building were enveloped in the thickest darkness, illumined at\nintervals by flashes of lightning, which allowed him to distinguish a\nnumber of gibing and chattering skeletons, running about and pursuing\neach other, or playing at leap-frog over one another's backs. At the\nrear of the mansion was a wild, uncultivated plot of ground, in the\nmidst of which arose a black rock. Down its sides rushed with fearful\nnoise a torrent of poisonous water, which, insinuating itself through\nthe soil, penetrated to all the springs of the city, and rendered them\nunfit for use. After he had been shown all this, the stranger led him\ninto another large chamber, filled with gold and precious stones, all of\nwhich he offered him if he would kneel down and worship him, and consent\nto smear the doors and houses of Milan with a pestiferous salve which he\nheld out to him. He now knew him to be the Devil, and in that moment of\ntemptation, prayed to God to give him strength to resist. His prayer was\nheard--he refused the bribe. The stranger scowled horribly upon him--a\nloud clap of thunder burst over his head--the vivid lightning flashed\nin his eyes, and the next moment he found himself standing alone at the\nporch of the cathedral. He repeated this strange tale day after day,\nwithout any variation, and all the populace were firm believers in its\ntruth. Repeated search was made to discover the mysterious house, but\nall in vain. The man pointed out several as resembling it, which were\nsearched by the police; but the Demon of the Pestilence was not to be\nfound, nor the hall of ghosts, nor the poisonous fountain. But the minds\nof the people were so impressed with the idea that scores of witnesses,\nhalf crazed by disease, came forward to swear that they also had\nseen the diabolical stranger, and had heard his chariot, drawn by the\nmilk-white steeds, rumbling over the streets at midnight with a sound\nlouder than thunder.\n\nThe number of persons who confessed that they were employed by the\nDevil to distribute poison is almost incredible. An epidemic frenzy was\nabroad, which seemed to be as contagious as the plague. Imagination was\nas disordered as the body, and day after day persons came voluntarily\nforward to accuse themselves. They generally had the marks of disease\nupon them, and some died in the act of confession.\n\nDuring the great plague of London, in 1665, the people listened with\nsimilar avidity to the predictions of quacks and fanatics. Defoe says,\nthat at that time the people were more addicted to prophecies and\nastronomical conjurations, dreams, and old wives' tales than ever they\nwere before or since. Almanacs, and their predictions, frightened them\nterribly. Even the year before the plague broke out, they were greatly\nalarmed by the comet which then appeared, and anticipated that famine,\npestilence, or fire would follow. Enthusiasts, while yet the disease had\nmade but little progress, ran about the streets, predicting that in a\nfew days London would be destroyed.\n\nA still more singular instance of the faith in predictions occurred\nin London in the year 1524. The city swarmed at that time with\nfortune-tellers and astrologers, who were consulted daily by people of\nevery class in society on the secrets of futurity. As early as the month\nof June 1523, several of them concurred in predicting that, on the 1st\nday of February, 1524, the waters of the Thames would swell to such\na height as to overflow the whole city of London, and wash away ten\nthousand houses. The prophecy met implicit belief. It was reiterated\nwith the utmost confidence month after month, until so much alarm was\nexcited that many families packed up their goods, and removed into\nKent and Essex. As the time drew nigh, the number of these emigrants\nincreased. In January, droves of workmen might be seen, followed by\ntheir wives and children, trudging on foot to the villages within\nfifteen or twenty miles, to await the catastrophe. People of a higher\nclass were also to be seen, in waggons and other vehicles, bound on\na similar errand. By the middle of January, at least twenty thousand\npersons had quitted the doomed city, leaving nothing but the bare walls\nof their homes to be swept away by the impending floods. Many of the\nricher sort took up their abode on the heights of Highgate, Hampstead,\nand Blackheath; and some erected tents as far away as Waltham Abbey, on\nthe north, and Croydon, on the south of the Thames. Bolton, the prior\nof St. Bartholomew's, was so alarmed that he erected, at very great\nexpense, a sort of fortress at Harrow-on-the-Hill, which he stocked with\nprovisions for two months. On the 24th of January, a week before\nthe awful day which was to see the destruction of London, he removed\nthither, with the brethren and officers of the priory and all his\nhousehold. A number of boats were conveyed in waggons to his fortress,\nfurnished abundantly with expert rowers, in case the flood, reaching\nso high as Harrow, should force them to go further for a resting-place.\nMany wealthy citizens prayed to share his retreat, but the Prior, with\na prudent forethought, admitted only his personal friends, and those who\nbrought stores of eatables for the blockade.\n\nAt last the morn, big with the fate of London, appeared in the east. The\nwondering crowds were astir at an early hour to watch the rising of the\nwaters. The inundation, it was predicted, would be gradual, not sudden;\nso that they expected to have plenty of time to escape, as soon as\nthey saw the bosom of old Thames heave beyond the usual mark. But the\nmajority were too much alarmed to trust to this, and thought themselves\nsafer ten or twenty miles off. The Thames, unmindful of the foolish\ncrowds upon its banks, flowed on quietly as of yore. The tide ebbed at\nits usual hour, flowed to its usual height, and then ebbed again, just\nas if twenty astrologers had not pledged their words to the contrary.\nBlank were their faces as evening approached, and as blank grew\nthe faces of the citizens to think that they had made such fools of\nthemselves. At last night set in, and the obstinate river would not lift\nits waters to sweep away even one house out of the ten thousand. Still,\nhowever, the people were afraid to go to sleep. Many hundreds remained\nup till dawn of the next day, lest the deluge should come upon them like\na thief in the night.\n\nOn the morrow, it was seriously discussed whether it would not be\nadvisable to duck the false prophets in the river. Luckily for them,\nthey thought of an expedient which allayed the popular fury. They\nasserted that, by an error (a very slight one) of a little figure, they\nhad fixed the date of this awful inundation a whole century too early.\nThe stars were right after all, and they, erring mortals, were wrong.\nThe present generation of cockneys was safe, and London 'would be washed\naway, not in 1524, but in 1624. At this announcement, Bolton, the prior,\ndismantled his fortress, and the weary emigrants came back.\n\nAn eye-witness of the great fire of London, in an account preserved\namong the Harleian MSS. in the British Museum, and recently published\nin the Transactions of the Royal Society of Antiquaries, relates another\ninstance of the credulity of the Londoners. The writer, who accompanied\nthe Duke of York day by day through the district included between the\nFleet-bridge and the Thames, states that, in their efforts to check the\nprogress of the flames, they were much impeded by the superstition of\nthe people. Mother Shipton, in one of her prophecies, had said that\nLondon would be reduced to ashes, and they refused to make any efforts\nto prevent it. [This prophecy seems to have been that set forth at\nlength in the popular Life of Mother Shipton:--\n\n     \"When fate to England shall restore\n     A king to reign as heretofore,\n     Great death in London shall be though,\n     And many houses be laid low.\"]\n\nA son of the noted Sir Kenelm Digby, who was also a pretender to the\ngifts of prophecy, persuaded them that no power on earth could prevent\nthe fulfilment of the prediction; for it was written in the great book\nof fate that London was to be destroyed. Hundreds of persons, who\nmight have rendered valuable assistance, and saved whole parishes\nfrom devastation, folded their arms and looked on. As many more gave\nthemselves up, with the less compunction, to plunder a city which they\ncould not save.\n\nThe prophecies of Mother Shipton are still believed in many of the rural\ndistricts of England. In cottages and servants' halls her reputation is\ngreat; and she rules, the most popular of British prophets, among all\nthe uneducated, or half-educated, portions of the community. She is\ngenerally supposed to have been born at Knaresborough, in the reign\nof Henry VII, and to have sold her soul to the Devil for the power of\nforetelling future events. Though during her lifetime she was looked\nupon as a witch, she yet escaped the witch's fate, and died peaceably\nin her bed at an extreme old age, near Clifton in Yorkshire. A stone\nis said to have been erected to her memory in the church-yard of that\nplace, with the following epitaph:--\n\n\"Here lies she who never lied; Whose skill often has been tried: Her\nprophecies shall still survive, And ever keep her name alive.\"\n\n\"Never a day passed,\" says her traditionary biography, \"wherein she\ndid not relate something remarkable, and that required the most serious\nconsideration. People flocked to her from far and near, her fame was so\ngreat. They went to her of all sorts, both old and young, rich and poor,\nespecially young maidens, to be resolved of their doubts relating\nto things to come; and all returned wonderfully satisfied in the\nexplanations she gave to their questions.\" Among the rest, went\nthe Abbot of Beverley, to whom she foretold the suppression of the\nmonasteries by Henry VIII; his marriage with Anne Boleyn; the fires for\nheretics in Smithfield, and the execution of Mary Queen of Scots. She\nalso foretold the accession of James I, adding that, with him,\n\n     \"From the cold North,\n     Every evil should come forth.\"\n\nOn a subsequent visit she uttered another prophecy, which, in the\nopinion of her believers, still remains unfulfilled, but may be expected\nto be realised during the present century:--\n\n     \"The time shall come when seas of blood\n     Shall mingle with a greater flood.\n     Great noise there shall be heard--great shouts and cries,\n     And seas shall thunder louder than the skies;\n     Then shall three lions fight with three, and bring\n     Joy to a people, honour to a king.\n     That fiery year as soon as o'er,\n     Peace shall then be as before;\n     Plenty shall everywhere be found,\n     And men with swords shall plough the ground.\"\n\nBut the most famous of all her prophecies is one relating to London.\nThousands of persons still shudder to think of the woes that are to\nburst over this unhappy realm, when London and Highgate are joined by\none continuous line of houses. This junction, which, if the rage for\nbuilding lasts much longer, in the same proportion as heretofore, bids\nfair to be soon accomplished, was predicted by her shortly before her\ndeath. Revolutions--the fall of mighty monarchs, and the shedding of\nmuch blood are to signalise that event. The very angels, afflicted by\nour woes, are to turn aside their heads, and weep for hapless Britain.\n\nBut great as is the fame of Mother Shipton, she ranks but second in the\nlist of British prophets. Merlin, the mighty Merlin, stands alone in his\nhigh pre-eminence--the first and greatest. As old Drayton sings, in his\nPoly-olbion:--\n\n     \"Of Merlin and his skill what region doth not hear?\n     The world shall still be full of Merlin every year.\n     A thousand lingering years his prophecies have run,\n     And scarcely shall have end till time itself be done.\"\n\nSpenser, in his divine poem, has given us a powerful description of this\nrenowned seer--\n\n     \".......who had in magic more insight\n     Than ever him before, or after, living wight.\n\n     \"For he by words could call out of the sky\n     Both sun and moon, and make them him obey;\n     The land to sea, and sea to mainland dry,\n     And darksome night he eke could turn to day--\n     Huge hosts of men he could, alone, dismay.\n     And hosts of men and meanest things could frame,\n     Whenso him list his enemies to fray,\n     That to this day, for terror of his name,\n     The fiends do quake, when any him to them does name.\n\n     \"And soothe men say that he was not the sonne,\n     Of mortal sire or other living wighte,\n     But wondrously begotten and begoune\n     By false illusion of a guileful sprite,\n     On a faire ladye nun.\"\n\nIn these verses the poet has preserved the popular belief with regard\nto Merlin, who is generally supposed to have been a contemporary of\nVortigern. Opinion is divided as to whether he were a real personage, or\na mere impersonation, formed by the poetic fancy of a credulous people.\nIt seems most probable that such a man did exist, and that, possessing\nknowledge as much above the comprehension of his age, as that possessed\nby Friar Bacon was beyond the reach of his, he was endowed by the\nwondering crowd with the supernatural attributes that Spenser has\nenumerated.\n\nGeoffrey of Monmouth translated Merlin's poetical odes, or prophecies,\ninto Latin prose, and he was much reverenced, not only by Geoffrey, but\nby most of the old annalists. In a \"Life of Merlin, with his Prophecies\nand Predictions, interpreted and made good by our English Annals,\" by\nThomas Heywood, published in the reign of Charles I, we find several of\nthese pretended prophecies. They seem, however, to have been all written\nby Heywood himself. They are in terms too plain and positive to allow\nany one to doubt for a moment of their having been composed ex post\nfacto. Speaking of Richard I, he says:--\n\n     \"The Lion's heart will 'gainst the Saracen rise,\n     And purchase from him many a glorious prize;\n     The rose and lily shall at first unite,\n     But, parting of the prey prove opposite.\n\n     *           *          *           *\n\n     But while abroad these great acts shall be done;\n     All things at home shall to disorder run.\n     Cooped up and caged then shall the Lion be,\n     But, after sufferance, ransomed and set free.\"\n\nThe sapient Thomas Heywood gravely goes on to inform us, that all these\nthings actually came to pass. Upon Richard III he is equally luminous.\nHe says:--\n\n     \"A hunch-backed monster, who with teeth is born,\n     The mockery of art and nature's scorn;\n     Who from the womb preposterously is hurled,\n     And, with feet forward, thrust into the world,\n     Shall, from the lower earth on which he stood,\n     Wade, every step he mounts, knee-deep in blood.\n     He shall to th' height of all his hopes aspire,\n     And, clothed in state, his ugly shape admire;\n     But, when he thinks himself most safe to stand,\n     From foreign parts a native whelp shall land.\"\n\nAnother of these prophecies after the event tells us that Henry VIII\nshould take the power from Rome, \"and bring it home unto his British\nbower;\" that he should \"root out from the land all the razored skulls;\"\nand that he should neither spare \"man in his rage nor woman in his\nlust;\" and that, in the time of his next successor but one, \"there\nshould come in the fagot and the stake.\" Master Heywood closes Merlin's\nprophecies at his own day, and does not give even a glimpse of what\nwas to befall England after his decease. Many other prophecies, besides\nthose quoted by him, were, he says, dispersed abroad, in his day, under\nthe name of Merlin; but he gives his readers a taste of one only, and\nthat is the following:--\n\n     \"When hempe is ripe and ready to pull,\n     Then Englishman beware thy skull.\"\n\nThis prophecy, which, one would think, ought to have put him in mind of\nthe gallows, the not unusual fate of false prophets, and perchance his\nown, he explains thus:--\"In this word HEMPE be five letters. Now, by\nreckoning the five successive princes from Henry VIII, this prophecy is\neasily explained: H signifieth King Henry before named; E, Edward, his\nson, the sixth of that name; M, Mary, who succeeded him; P, Philip of\nSpain, who, by marrying Queen Mary, participated with her in the English\ndiadem; and, lastly, E signifieth Queen Elizabeth, after whose death\nthere was a great feare that some troubles might have arisen about the\ncrown.\" As this did not happen, Heywood, who was a sly rogue in a small\nway, gets out of the scrape by saying, \"Yet proved this augury true,\nthough not according to the former expectation; for, after the peaceful\ninauguration of King James, there was great mortality, not in London\nonly, but through the whole kingdom, and from which the nation was not\nquite clean in seven years after.\"\n\nThis is not unlike the subterfuge of Peter of Pontefract, who had\nprophesied the death and deposition of King John, and who was hanged by\nthat monarch for his pains. A very graphic and amusing account of this\npretended prophet is given by Grafton, in his Chronicles of England.\nThere is so much homely vigour about the style of the old annalist,\nthat it would be a pity to give the story in other words than his own.\n[Chronicles of England, by Richard Grafton; London, 1568, p. 106.] \"In\nthe meanwhile,\" says he, \"the priestes within England had provided them\na false and counterfeated prophet, called Peter Wakefielde, a Yorkshire\nman, who was an hermite, an idle gadder about, and a pratlyng marchant.\nNow to bring this Peter in credite, and the kyng out of all credite with\nhis people, diverse vaine persons bruted dayly among the commons of\nthe realme, that Christe had twice appered unto him in the shape of a\nchilde, betwene the prieste's handes, once at Yorke, another tyme at\nPomfret; and that he had breathed upon him thrice, saying, 'Peace,\npeace, peace,' and teachyng many things, which he anon declared to the\nbishops, and bid the people amend their naughtie living. Being rapt also\nin spirite, they sayde he behelde the joyes of heaven and sorowes of\nhell, for scant were there three in the realme, sayde he, that lived\nChristainly.\n\n\"This counterfeated soothsayer prophecied of King John, that he should\nreigne no longer than the Ascension-day next followyng, which was in the\nyere of our Lord 1211, and was the thirteenth yere from his coronation;\nand this, he said, he had by revelation. Then it was of him demanded,\nwhether he should be slaine or be deposed, or should voluntarily give\nover the crowne? He aunswered, that he could not tell; but of this he\nwas sure (he sayd), that neither he nor any of his stock or lineage\nshould reigne after that day.\n\n\"The king hering of this, laughed much at it, and made but a scoff\nthereat. 'Tush!' saith he, 'it is but an ideot knave, and such an one as\nlacketh his right wittes.' But when this foolish prophet had so escaped\nthe daunger of the Kinge's displeasure, and that he made no more of it,\nhe gate him abroad, and prated thereof at large, as he was a very idle\nvagabond, and used to trattle and talke more than ynough, so that\nthey which loved the King caused him anon after to be apprehended as\na malefactor, and to be throwen in prison, the King not yet knowing\nthereof.\n\n\"Anone after the fame of this phantasticall prophet went all the realme\nover, and his name was knowen everywhere, as foolishnesse is much\nregarded of the people, where wisdome is not in place; specially because\nhe was then imprisoned for the matter, the rumour was the larger, their\nwonderynges were the wantoner, their practises the foolisher, their\nbusye talkes and other idle doinges the greater. Continually from\nthence, as the rude manner of people is, olde gossyps tales went\nabroade, new tales were invented, fables were added to fables, and lyes\ngrew upon lyes. So that every daye newe slanders were laide upon the\nKing, and not one of them true. Rumors arose, blasphemyes were sprede,\nthe enemyes rejoyced, and treasons by the priestes were mainteyned; and\nwhat lykewise was surmised, or other subtiltye practised, all was then\nlathered upon this foolish prophet, as 'thus saith Peter Wakefield;'\n'thus hath he prophecied;' 'and thus it shall come to pass;' yea, many\ntimes, when he thought nothing lesse. And when the Ascension-day was\ncome, which was prophecyed of before, King John commanded his royal\ntent to be spread in the open fielde, passing that day with his noble\ncounseyle and men of honour, in the greatest solemnitie that ever he did\nbefore; solacing himself with musickale instrumentes and songs, most\nin sight among his trustie friendes. When that day was paste in all\nprosperitie and myrth, his enemyes being confused, turned all into an\nallegorical understanding to make the prophecie good, and sayde, 'he\nis no longer King, for the Pope reigneth, and not he.'\" [King John was\nlabouring under a sentence of excommunication at the time.]\n\n\"Then was the King by his council perswaded that this false prophet had\ntroubled the realme, perverted the heartes of the people, and raysed the\ncommons against him; for his wordes went over the sea, by the help of\nhis prelates, and came to the French King's care, and gave to him a\ngreat encouragement to invade the lande. He had not else done it so\nsodeinely. But he was most lowly deceived, as all they are and shall\nbe that put their trust in such dark drowsye dreames of hipocrites. The\nKing therefore commanded that he should be hanged up, and his sonne also\nwith him, lest any more false prophets should arise of that race.\"\n\nHeywood, who was a great stickler for the truth of all sorts of\nprophecies, gives a much more favourable account of this Peter of\nPomfret, or Pontefract, whose fate he would, in all probability, have\nshared, if he had had the misfortune to have flourished in the same age.\nHe says, that Peter, who was not only a prophet, but a bard, predicted\ndivers of King John's disasters, which fell out accordingly. On being\ntaxed for a lying prophet in having predicted that the King would be\ndeposed before he entered into the fifteenth year of his reign, he\nanswered him boldly, that all he had said was justifiable and true; for\nthat, having given up his crown to the Pope, and paying him an annual\ntribute, the Pope reigned, and not he. Heywood thought this explanation\nto be perfectly satisfactory, and the prophet's faith for ever\nestablished.\n\nBut to return to Merlin. Of him even to this day it may be said, in the\nwords which Burns has applied to another notorious personage,\n\n     \"Great was his power and great his fame;\n     Far kenned and noted is his name?\n\nHis reputation is by no means confined to the land of his birth, but\nextends through most of the nations of Europe. A very curious volume of\nhis Life, Prophecies, and Miracles, written, it is supposed, by Robert\nde Bosron, was printed at Paris in 1498, which states, that the Devil\nhimself was his father, and that he spoke the instant he was born, and\nassured his mother, a very virtuous young woman, that she should not die\nin child-bed with him, as her ill-natured neighbours had predicted. The\njudge of the district, hearing of so marvellous an occurrence, summoned\nboth mother and child to appear before him; and they went accordingly\nthe same day. To put the wisdom of the young prophet most effectually\nto the test, the judge asked him if he knew his own father? To which the\ninfant Merlin replied, in a clear, sonorous voice, \"Yes, my father is\nthe Devil; and I have his power, and know all things, past, present, and\nto come.\" His worship clapped his hands in astonishment, and took the\nprudent resolution of not molesting so awful a child, or its mother\neither.\n\nEarly tradition attributes the building of Stonehenge to the power of\nMerlin. It was believed that those mighty stones were whirled through\nthe air, at his command, from Ireland to Salisbury Plain, and that he\narranged them in the form in which they now stand, to commemorate\nfor ever the unhappy fate of three hundred British chiefs, who were\nmassacred on that spot by the Saxons.\n\nAt Abergwylly, near Caermarthen, is still shown the cave of the prophet\nand the scene of his incantations. How beautiful is the description of\nit given by Spenser in his \"Faerie Queene.\" The lines need no apology\nfor their repetition here, and any sketch of the great prophet of\nBritain would be incomplete without them:--\n\n     \"There the wise Merlin, whilom wont (they say),\n     To make his wonne low underneath the ground,\n     In a deep delve far from the view of day,\n     That of no living wight he mote be found,\n     Whenso he counselled with his sprites encompassed round.\n\n     \"And if thou ever happen that same way\n     To travel, go to see that dreadful place;\n     It is a hideous, hollow cave, they say,\n     Under a rock that lies a little space\n     From the swift Barry, tumbling down apace\n     Amongst the woody hills of Dynevoure;\n     But dare thou not, I charge, in any case,\n     To enter into that same baleful bower,\n     For fear the cruel fiendes should thee unwares devour!\n\n     \"But, standing high aloft, low lay thine care,\n     And there such ghastly noise of iron chaines,\n     And brazen caudrons thou shalt rombling heare,\n     Which thousand sprites, with long-enduring paines,\n     Doe tosse, that it will stun thy feeble braines;\n     And often times great groans and grievous stownds,\n     When too huge toile and labour them constraines;\n     And often times loud strokes and ringing sounds\n     From under that deep rock most horribly rebounds.\n\n     \"The cause, they say, is this. A little while\n     Before that Merlin died, he did intend\n     A brazen wall in compass, to compile\n     About Cayr Merdin, and did it commend\n     Unto these sprites to bring to perfect end;\n     During which work the Lady of the Lake,\n     Whom long he loved, for him in haste did send,\n     Who thereby forced his workmen to forsake,\n     Them bound till his return their labour not to slake.\n\n     \"In the mean time, through that false ladie's traine,\n     He was surprised, and buried under biere,\n     Ne ever to his work returned again;\n     Natheless these fiendes may not their work forbeare,\n     So greatly his commandement they fear,\n     But there doe toile and travaile day and night,\n     Until that brazen wall they up doe reare.\"\n\n     [Faerie Queene, b. 3. c. 3. s. 6--13.]\n\nAmongst other English prophets, a belief in whose power has not been\nentirely effaced by the light of advancing knowledge, is Robert Nixon,\nthe Cheshire idiot, a contemporary of Mother Shipton. The popular\naccounts of this man say, that he was born of poor parents, not far from\nVale Royal, on the edge of the forest of Delamere. He was brought up to\nthe plough, but was so ignorant and stupid, that nothing could be\nmade of him. Everybody thought him irretrievably insane, and paid no\nattention to the strange, unconnected discourses which he held. Many of\nhis prophecies are believed to have been lost in this manner. But they\nwere not always destined to be wasted upon dull and inattentive ears.\nAn incident occurred which brought him into notice, and established his\nfame as a prophet of the first calibre. He was ploughing in a field when\nhe suddenly stopped from his labour, and, with a wild look and strange\ngestures, exclaimed, \"Now, Dick! now, Harry! O, ill done, Dick! O, well\ndone, Harry! Harry has gained the day!\" His fellow labourers in the\nfield did not know what to make of this rhapsody; but the next day\ncleared up the mystery. News was brought by a messenger, in hot haste,\nthat at the very instant when Nixon had thus ejaculated, Richard III had\nbeen slain at the battle of Bosworth, and Henry VII proclaimed King of\nEngland.\n\nIt was not long before the fame of the new prophet reached the ears of\nthe King, who expressed a wish to see and converse with him. A messenger\nwas accordingly despatched to bring him to court; but long before he\nreached Cheshire, Nixon knew and dreaded the honours that awaited him.\nIndeed it was said, that at the very instant the King expressed the\nwish, Nixon was, by supernatural means, made acquainted with it, and\nthat he ran about the town of Over in great distress of mind, calling\nout, like a madman, that Henry had sent for him, and that he must go\nto court, and be clammed; that is, starved to death. These expressions\nexcited no little wonder; but, on the third day, the messenger arrived,\nand carried him to court, leaving on the minds of the good people of\nCheshire an impression that their prophet was one of the greatest ever\nborn. On his arrival King Henry appeared to be troubled exceedingly at\nthe loss of a valuable diamond, and asked Nixon if he could inform him\nwhere it was to be found. Henry had hidden the diamond himself, with\na view to test the prophet's skill. Great, therefore, was his surprise\nwhen Nixon answered him in the words of the old proverb, \"Those who hide\ncan find.\" From that time forth the King implicitly believed that he had\nthe gift of prophecy, and ordered all his words to be taken down.\n\nDuring all the time of his residence at court he was in constant fear of\nbeing starved to death, and repeatedly told the King that such would\nbe his fate, if he were not allowed to depart, and return into his own\ncountry. Henry would not suffer it, but gave strict orders to all his\nofficers and cooks to give him as much to eat as he wanted. He lived\nso well, that for some time he seemed to be thriving like a nobleman's\nsteward, and growing as fat as an alderman. One day the king went out\nhunting, when Nixon ran to the palace gate, and entreated on his knees\nthat he might not be left behind to be starved. The King laughed, and,\ncalling an officer, told him to take especial care of the prophet during\nhis absence, and rode away to the forest. After his departure, the\nservants of the palace began to jeer at and insult Nixon, whom they\nimagined to be much better treated than he deserved. Nixon complained to\nthe officer, who, to prevent him from being further molested, locked him\nup in the King's own closet, and brought him regularly his four meals a\nday. But it so happened that a messenger arrived from the King to this\nofficer, requiring his immediate presence at Winchester, on a matter of\nlife and death. So great was his haste to obey the King's command, that\nhe mounted on the horse behind the messenger, and rode off, without\nbestowing a thought upon poor Nixon. He did not return till three days\nafterwards, when, remembering the prophet for the first time, he went to\nthe King's closet, and found him lying upon the floor, starved to death,\nas he had predicted.\n\nAmong the prophecies of his which are believed to have been fulfilled,\nare the following, which relate to the times of the Pretender:--\n\n     \"A great man shall come into England,\n     But the son of a King\n     Shall take from him the victory.\"\n\n     \"Crows shall drink the blood of many nobles,\n     And the North shall rise against the South.\"\n     \"The cock of the North shall be made to flee,\n     And his feather be plucked for his pride,\n     That he shall almost curse the day that he was born,\"\n\nAll these, say his admirers, are as clear as the sun at noon-day. The\nfirst denotes the defeat of Prince Charles Edward, at the battle of\nCulloden, by the Duke of Cumberland; the second, the execution of Lords\nDerwentwater, Balmerino, and Lovat; and the third, the retreat of the\nPretender from the shores of Britain. Among the prophecies that still\nremain to be accomplished, are the following:--\n\n     \"Between seven, eight, and nine,\n     In England wonders shall be seen;\n     Between nine and thirteen\n     All sorrow shall be done!\"\n\n     \"Through our own money and our men\n     Shall a dreadful war begin.\n     Between the sickle and the suck\n     All England shall have a pluck,\"\n\n\"Foreign nations shall invade England with snow on their helmets, and\nshall bring plague, famine, and murder in the skirts of their garments.\"\n\n     \"The town of Nantwich shall be swept away by a flood\"\n\nOf the two first of these no explanation has yet been attempted; but\nsome event or other will doubtless be twisted into such a shape as will\nfit them. The third, relative to the invasion of England by a nation\nwith snow on their helmets, is supposed by the old women to foretell\nmost clearly the coming war with Russia. As to the last, there are not\na few in the town mentioned who devoutly believe that such will be its\nfate. Happily for their peace of mind, the prophet said nothing of the\nyear that was to witness the awful calamity; so that they think it as\nlikely to be two centuries hence as now.\n\nThe popular biographers of Nixon conclude their account of him by\nsaying, that \"his prophecies are by some persons thought fables; yet by\nwhat has come to pass, it is now thought, and very plainly appears,\nthat most of them have proved, or will prove, true; for which we, on all\noccasions, ought not only to exert our utmost might to repel by force\nour enemies, but to refrain from our abandoned and wicked course\nof life, and to make our continual prayer to God for protection and\nsafety.\" To this, though a non sequitur, every one will cry Amen!\n\nBesides the prophets, there have been the almanack makers, Lilly, Poor\nRobin, Partridge, and Francis Moore, physician, in England, and Matthew\nLaensbergh, in France and Belgium. But great as were their pretensions,\nthey were modesty itself in comparison with Merlin, Shipton, and Nixon,\nwho fixed their minds upon higher things than the weather, and who were\nnot so restrained in their flights of fancy as to prophesy for only one\nyear at a time. After such prophets as they, the almanack makers hardly\ndeserve to be mentioned; no, not even the renowned Partridge, whose\nwonderful prognostications set all England agog in 1708, and whose\ndeath, at a time when he was still alive and kicking, was so pleasantly\nand satisfactorily proved by Isaac Bickerstaff. The anti-climax would be\ntoo palpable, and they and their doings must be left uncommemorated.\n\n\n\n\nPOPULAR ADMIRATION FOR GREAT THIEVES.\n\n\nJack. Where shall we find such another set of practical philosophers\nwho, to a man, are above the fear of death?\n\nWat. Sound men and true!\n\nRobin. Of tried courage and indefatigable industry!\n\nNed. Who is there here that would not die for his friend?\n\nHarry. Who is there here that would betray him for his interest?\n\nMat. Show me a gang of courtiers that could say as much!\n\nDialogue of thieves in the Beggars' Opera.\n\nWhether it be that the multitude, feeling the pangs of poverty,\nsympathise with the daring and ingenious depredators who take away the\nrich man's superfluity, or whether it be the interest that mankind in\ngeneral feel for the records of perilous adventures, it is certain\nthat the populace of all countries look with admiration upon great and\nsuccessful thieves. Perhaps both these causes combine to invest their\ncareer with charms in the popular eye. Almost every country in Europe\nhas its traditional thief, whose exploits are recorded with all the\ngraces of poetry, and whose trespasses--\n\n     \"--are cited up in rhymes,\n     And sung by children in succeeding times.\"\n\n     [Shakspeare's Rape of Lucretia.]\n\nThose travellers who have made national manners and characteristics\ntheir peculiar study, have often observed and remarked upon this\nfeeling. The learned Abbe le Blanc, who resided for some time in England\nat the commencement of the eighteenth century, says, in his amusing\nletters on the English and French nations, that he continually met with\nEnglishmen who were not less vain in boasting of the success of their\nhighwaymen than of the bravery of their troops. Tales of their address,\ntheir cunning, or their generosity, were in the mouths of everybody, and\na noted thief was a kind of hero in high repute. He adds that the mob,\nin all countries, being easily moved, look in general with concern upon\ncriminals going to the gallows; but an English mob looked upon such\nscenes with 'extraordinary interest: they delighted to see them go\nthrough their last trials with resolution, and applauded those who were\ninsensible enough to die as they had lived, braving the justice both of\nGod and men: such, he might have added, as the noted robber Macpherson,\nof whom the old ballad says--\n\n     \"Sae rantingly, sae wantonly,\n     Sae dauntingly gaed he:\n     He played a spring, and danced it round\n     Beneath the gallows tree.\"\n\nAmong these traditional thieves the most noted in England, or perhaps in\nany country, is Robin Hood, a name which popular affection has encircled\nwith a peculiar halo. \"He robbed the rich to give to the poor;\" and\nhis reward has been an immortality of fame, a tithe of which would be\nthought more than sufficient to recompense a benefactor of his species.\nRomance and poetry have been emulous to make him all their own; and the\nforest of Sherwood, in which he roamed with his merry men, armed with\ntheir long bows, and clad in Lincoln green, has become the resort of\npilgrims, and a classic spot sacred to his memory. The few virtues he\nhad, which would have ensured him no praise if he had been an honest\nman, have been blazoned forth by popular renown during seven successive\ncenturies, and will never be forgotten while the English tongue endures.\nHis charity to the poor, and his gallantry and respect for women, have\nmade him the pre-eminent thief of all the world.\n\nAmong English thieves of a later date, who has not heard of Claude\nDuval, Dick Turpin, Jonathan Wild, and Jack Sheppard, those knights of\nthe road and of the town, whose peculiar chivalry formed at once the\ndread and the delight of England during the eighteenth century? Turpin's\nfame is unknown to no portion of the male population of England after\nthey have attained the age of ten. His wondrous ride from London to York\nhas endeared him to the imagination of millions; his cruelty in placing\nan old woman upon a fire, to force her to tell him where she had hidden\nher money, is regarded as a good joke; and his proud bearing upon the\nscaffold is looked upon as a virtuous action. The Abbe le Blanc,\nwriting in 1737, says he was continually entertained with stories of\nTurpin--how, when he robbed gentlemen, he would generously leave them\nenough to continue their journey, and exact a pledge from them never to\ninform against him, and how scrupulous such gentlemen were in keeping\ntheir word. He was one day told a story with which the relator was\nhe the highest degree delighted. Turpin, or some other noted\nrobber, stopped a man whom he knew to be very rich, with the usual\nsalutation--\"Your money or your life!\" but not finding more than five\nor six guineas about him, he took the liberty of entreating him, in the\nmost affable manner, never to come out so ill provided; adding that, if\nhe fell in with him, and he had no more than such a paltry sum, he\nwould give him a good licking. Another story, told by one of Turpin's\nadmirers, was of a robbery he had committed upon a Mr. C. near\nCambridge. He took from this gentleman his watch, his snuff-box, and all\nhis money but two shillings, and, before he left him, required his word\nof honour that he would not cause him to be pursued or brought before\na justice. The promise being given, they both parted very courteously.\nThey afterwards met at Newmarket, and renewed their acquaintance. Mr. C.\nkept his word religiously; he not only refrained from giving Turpin into\ncustody, but made a boast that he had fairly won some of his money back\nagain in an honest way. Turpin offered to bet with him on some favourite\nhorse, and Mr. C. accepted the wager with as good a grace as he could\nhave done from the best gentleman in England. Turpin lost his bet and\npaid it immediately, and was so smitten with the generous behaviour of\nMr. C. that he told him how deeply he regretted that the trifling affair\nwhich had happened between them did not permit them to drink together.\nThe narrator of this anecdote was quite proud that England was the\nbirthplace of such a highwayman.\n\n[The Abbe, in the second volume, in the letter No. 79, dressed to\nMonsieur de Buffon, gives the following curious particulars of the\nrobbers of 1757, which are not without interest at this day, if it\nwere only to show the vast improvement which has taken place since that\nperiod:--\"It is usual, in travelling, to put ten or a dozen guineas in\na separate pocket, as a tribute to the first that comes to demand them:\nthe right of passport, which custom has established here in favour of\nthe robbers, who are almost the only highway surveyors in England, has\nmade this necessary; and accordingly the English call these fellows\nthe 'Gentlemen of the Road,' the government letting them exercise their\njurisdiction upon travellers without giving them any great molestation.\nTo say the truth, they content themselves with only taking the money\nof those who obey without disputing; but notwithstanding their boasted\nhumanity, the lives of those who endeavour to get away are not always\nsafe. They are very strict and severe in levying their impost; and if\na man has not wherewithal to pay them, he may run the chance of getting\nhimself knocked on the head for his poverty.\n\n\"About fifteen years ago, these robbers, with the view of maintaining\ntheir rights, fixed up papers at the doors of rich people about London,\nexpressly forbidding all persons, of whatsoever quality or condition,\nfrom going out of town without ten guineas and a watch about them, on\npain of death. In bad times, when there is little or nothing to be got\non the roads, these fellows assemble in gangs, to raise contributions\neven in London itself; and the watchmen seldom trouble themselves to\ninterfere with them in their vocation.\"]\n\nNot less familiar to the people of England is the career of Jack\nSheppard, as brutal a ruffian as ever disgraced his country, but who\nhas claims upon the popular admiration which are very generally\nacknowledged. He did not, like Robin Hood, plunder the rich to relieve\nthe poor, nor rob with an uncouth sort of courtesy, like Turpin; but he\nescaped from Newgate with the fetters on his limbs. This achievement,\nmore than once repeated, has encircled his felon brow with the wreath of\nimmortality, and made him quite a pattern thief among the populace. He\nwas no more than twenty-three years of age at the time of his execution,\nand he died much pitied by the crowd. His adventures were the sole\ntopics of conversation for months; the print-shops were filled with his\neffigies, and a fine painting of him was made by Sir Richard Thornhill.\nThe following complimentary verses to the artist appeared in the\n\"British Journal\" of November 28th, 1724.\n\n     \"Thornhill! 'tis thine to gild with fame\n     Th' obscure, and raise the humble name;\n     To make the form elude the grave,\n     And Sheppard from oblivion save!\n\n     Apelles Alexander drew--\n     Cesar is to Aurelius due;\n     Cromwell in Lilly's works doth shine,\n     And Sheppard, Thornhill, lives in thine!\"\n\nSo high was Jack's fame that a pantomime entertainment, called\n\"Harlequin Jack Sheppard,\" was devised by one Thurmond, and brought out\nwith great success at Drury Lane Theatre. All the scenes were painted\nfrom nature, including the public-house that the robber frequented in\nClaremarket, and the condemned cell from which he had made his escape in\nNewgate.\n\nThe Rev. Mr. Villette, the editor of the \"Annals of Newgate,\" published\nin 1754, relates a curious sermon which, he says, a friend of his heard\ndelivered by a street-preacher about the time of Jack's execution. The\norator, after animadverting on the great care men took of their bodies,\nand the little care they bestowed upon their souls, continued as\nfollows, by way of exemplifying the position:--\"We have a remarkable\ninstance of this in a notorious malefactor, well known by the name\nof Jack Sheppard. What amazing difficulties has he overcome! what\nastonishing things has he performed! and all for the sake of a stinking,\nmiserable carcass; hardly worth the hanging! How dexterously did he pick\nthe chain of his padlock with a crooked nail! how manfully he burst his\nfetters asunder!--climb up the chimney!--wrench out an iron bar!--break\nhis way through a stone wall!--make the strong door of a dark entry fly\nbefore him, till he got upon the leads of the prison! then, fixing\na blanket to the wall with a spike, he stole out of the chapel. How\nintrepidly did he descend to the top of the turner's house!--how\ncautiously pass down the stair, and make his escape to the street door!\n\n\"Oh! that ye were all like Jack Sheppard! Mistake me not, my brethren;\nI don't mean in a carnal, but in a spiritual sense, for I propose to\nspiritualise these things. What a shame it would be if we should not\nthink it worth our while to take as much pains, and employ as many deep\nthoughts, to save our souls as he has done to preserve his body!\n\n\"Let me exhort ye, then, to open the locks of your hearts with the nail\nof repentance! Burst asunder the fetters of your beloved\nlusts!--mount the chimney of hope!--take from thence the bar of good\nresolution!--break through the stone wall of despair, and all the\nstrongholds in the dark entry of the valley of the shadow of death!\nRaise yourselves to the leads of divine meditation!--fix the blanket of\nfaith with the spike of the church! let yourselves down to the turner's\nhouse of resignation, and descend the stairs of humility! So shall you\ncome to the door of deliverance from the prison of iniquity, and escape\nthe clutches of that old executioner the Devil!\"\n\nBut popular as the name of Jack Sheppard was immediately after he had\nsuffered the last penalty of his crimes, it was as nothing compared to\nthe vast renown which he has acquired in these latter days, after\nthe lapse of a century and a quarter. Poets too often, are not fully\nappreciated till they have been dead a hundred years, and thieves, it\nwould appear, share the disadvantage. But posterity is grateful if our\ncontemporaries are not; and Jack Sheppard, faintly praised in his own\nday, shines out in ours the hero of heroes, preeminent above all his\nfellows. Thornhill made but one picture of the illustrious robber, but\nCruikshank has made dozens, and the art of the engraver has multiplied\nthem into thousands and tens of thousands, until the populace of England\nhave become as familiar with Jack's features as they are with their own.\nJack, the romantic, is the hero of three goodly volumes, and the delight\nof the circulating libraries; and the theatres have been smitten with\nthe universal enthusiasm. Managers have set their playmongers at work,\nand Jack's story has been reproduced in the shape of drama, melodrama,\nand farce, at half a dozen places of entertainment at once. Never was\nsuch a display of popular regard for a hero as was exhibited in London\nin 1840 for the renowned Jack Sheppard: robbery acquired additional\nlustre in the popular eye, and not only Englishmen, but foreigners,\ncaught the contagion; and one of the latter, fired by the example,\nrobbed and murdered a venerable, unoffending, and too confiding\nnobleman, whom it was his especial duty to have obeyed and protected.\nBut he was a coward and a wretch;--it was a solitary crime--he had not\nmade a daring escape from dungeon walls, or ridden from London to York,\nand he died amid the execrations of the people, affording a melancholy\nexemplification of the trite remark, that every man is not great who is\ndesirous of being so.\n\nJonathan Wild, whose name has been immortalised by Fielding, was no\nfavourite with the people. He had none of the virtues which, combined\nwith crimes, make up the character of the great thief. He was a pitiful\nfellow, who informed against his comrades, and was afraid of death. This\nmeanness was not to be forgiven by the crowd, and they pelted him with\ndirt and stones on his way to Tyburn, and expressed their contempt by\nevery possible means. How different was their conduct to Turpin and\nJack Sheppard, who died in their neatest attire, with nosegays in\ntheir button-holes, and with the courage that a crowd expects! It was\nanticipated that the body of Turpin would have been delivered up to\nthe surgeons for dissection, and the people seeing some men very busily\nemployed in removing it, suddenly set upon them, rescued the body, bore\nit about the town in triumph, and then buried it in a very deep grave,\nfilled with quick-lime, to hasten the progress of decomposition. They\nwould not suffer the corpse of their hero, of the man who had ridden\nfrom London to York in four-and-twenty hours to be mangled by the rude\nhands of unmannerly surgeons.\n\nThe death of Claude Duval would appear to have been no less triumphant.\nClaude was a gentlemanly thief. According to Butler, in the famous ode\nto his memory, he\n\n     \"Taught the wild Arabs of the road\n     To rob in a more gentle mode;\n     Take prizes more obligingly than those\n     Who never had breen bred filous;\n     And how to hang in a more graceful fashion\n     Than e'er was known before to the dull English nation.\"\n\nIn fact, he was the pink of politeness, and his gallantry to the fair\nsex was proverbial. When he was caught at last, pent in \"stone walls\nand chains and iron grates,\"--their grief was in proportion to his rare\nmerits and his great fame. Butler says, that to his dungeon\n\n     \"--came ladies from all parts,\n     To offer up close prisoners their hearts,\n     Which he received as tribute due--\n\n     *     *     *     *\n\n     Never did bold knight, to relieve\n     Distressed dames, such dreadful feats achieve,\n     As feeble damsels, for his sake,\n     Would have been proud to undertake,\n     And, bravely ambitious to redeem\n     The world's loss and their own,\n     Strove who should have the honour to lay down,\n     And change a life with him.\"\n\nAmong the noted thieves of France, there is none to compare with the\nfamous Aimerigot Tetenoire, who flourished in the reign of Charles VI.\nThis fellow was at the head of four or five hundred men, and possessed\ntwo very strong castles in Limousin and Auvergne. There was a good deal\nof the feudal baron about him, although he possessed no revenues but\nsuch as the road afforded him. At his death he left a singular will. \"I\ngive and bequeath,\" said the robber, \"one thousand five hundred francs\nto St. George's Chapel, for such repairs as it may need. To my sweet\ngirl who so tenderly loved me, I give two thousand five hundred; and the\nsurplus I give to my companions. I hope they will all live as brothers,\nand divide it amicably among them. If they cannot agree, and the devil\nof contention gets among them, it is no fault of mine; and I advise them\nto get a good strong, sharp axe, and break open my strong box. Let them\nscramble for what it contains, and the Devil seize the hindmost.\" The\npeople of Auvergne still recount with admiration the daring feats of\nthis brigand.\n\nOf later years, the French thieves have been such unmitigated scoundrels\nas to have left but little room for popular admiration. The famous\nCartouche, whose name has become synonymous with ruffian in their\nlanguage, had none of the generosity, courtesy, and devoted bravery\nwhich are so requisite to make a robber-hero. He was born at Paris,\ntowards the end of the seventeenth century, and broken alive on the\nwheel in November 1727. He was, however, sufficiently popular to have\nbeen pitied at his death, and afterwards to have formed the subject of\na much admired drama, which bore his name, and was played with great\nsuccess in all the theatres of France during the years 1734, 5, and 6.\nIn our own day the French have been more fortunate in a robber; Vidocq\nbids fair to rival the fame of Turpin and Jack Sheppard. Already he\nhas become the hero of many an apocryphal tale--already his compatriots\nboast of his manifold achievements, and express their doubts whether\nany other country in Europe could produce a thief so clever, so\naccomplished, so gentlemanly, as Vidocq.\n\nGermany has its Schinderhannes, Hungary its Schubry, and Italy and\nSpain a whole host of brigands, whose names and exploits are familiar\nas household words in the mouths of the children and populace of those\ncountries. The Italian banditti are renowned over the world; and many of\nthem are not only very religious (after a fashion), but very charitable.\nCharity from such a source is so unexpected, that the people dote upon\nthem for it. One of them, when he fell into the hands of the police,\nexclaimed, as they led him away, \"Ho fatto pitt carita!\"--\"I have given\naway more in charity than any three convents in these provinces.\" And\nthe fellow spoke truth.\n\nIn Lombardy, the people cherish the memory of two notorious robbers, who\nflourished about two centuries ago under the Spanish government. Their\nstory, according to Macfarlane, is contained in a little book well known\nto all the children of the province, and read by them with much more\ngusto than their Bibles.\n\nSchinderhannes, the robber of the Rhine, is a great favourite on the\nbanks of the river which he so long kept in awe. Many amusing stories\nare related by the peasantry of the scurvy tricks he played off upon\nrich Jews, or too-presuming officers of justice--of his princely\ngenerosity, and undaunted courage. In short, they are proud of him, and\nwould no more consent to have the memory of his achievements dissociated\nfrom their river than they would to have the rock of Ehrenbreitstein\nblown to atoms by gunpowder.\n\nThere is another robber-hero, of whose character and exploits the people\nof Germany speak admiringly. Mausch Nadel was captain of a considerable\nband that infested the Rhine, Switzerland, Alsatia, and Lorraine during\nthe years 1824, 5, and 6. Like Jack Sheppard, he endeared himself to the\npopulace by his most hazardous escape from prison. Being confined, at\nBremen, in a dungeon, on the third story of the prison of that town,\nhe contrived to let himself down without exciting the vigilance of\nthe sentinels, and to swim across the Weser, though heavily laden with\nirons. When about half way over, he was espied by a sentinel, who fired\nat him, and shot him in the calf of the leg: but the undaunted robber\nstruck out manfully, reached the shore, and was out of sight before the\nofficers of justice could get ready their boats to follow him. He was\ncaptured again in 1826, tried at Mayence, and sentenced to death. He was\na tall, strong, handsome man, and his fate, villain as he was, excited\nmuch sympathy all over Germany. The ladies especially were loud in their\nregret that nothing could be done to save a hero so good-looking, and of\nadventures so romantic, from the knife of the headsman.\n\nMr. Macfarlane, in speaking of Italian banditti, remarks, that the\nabuses of the Catholic religion, with its confessions and absolutions,\nhave tended to promote crime of this description. But, he adds, more\ntruly, that priests and monks have not done half the mischief which has\nbeen perpetrated by ballad-mongers and story-tellers. If he had said\nplay-wrights also, the list would have been complete. In fact, the\ntheatre, which can only expect to prosper, in a pecuniary sense, by\npandering to the tastes of the people, continually recurs to the annals\nof thieves and banditti for its most favourite heroes. These theatrical\nrobbers; with their picturesque attire, wild haunts, jolly, reckless,\ndevil-may-care manners, take a wonderful hold upon the imagination,\nand, whatever their advocates may say to the contrary, exercise a very\npernicious influence upon public morals. In the Memoirs of the Duke of\nGuise upon the Revolution of Naples in 1647 and 1648, it is stated, that\nthe manners, dress, and mode of life of the Neapolitan banditti were\nrendered so captivating upon the stage, that the authorities found it\nabsolutely necessary to forbid the representation of dramas in which\nthey figured, and even to prohibit their costume at the masquerades.\nSo numerous were the banditti at this time, that the Duke found no\ndifficulty in raising an army of them, to aid him in his endeavours\nto seize on the throne of Naples. He thus describes them; [See also\n\"Foreign Quarterly Review,\" vol. iv. p. 398.]\n\n\"They were three thousand five hundred men, of whom the oldest came\nshort of five and forty years, and the youngest was above twenty. They\nwere all tall and well made, with long black hair, for the most part\ncurled, coats of black Spanish leather, with sleeves of velvet, or cloth\nof gold, cloth breeches with gold lace, most of them scarlet; girdles\nof velvet, laced with gold, with two pistols on each side; a cutlass\nhanging at a belt, suitably trimmed, three fingers broad and two feet\nlong; a hawking-bag at their girdle, and a powder-flask hung about\ntheir neck with a great silk riband. Some of them carried firelocks, and\nothers blunder-busses; they had all good shoes, with silk stockings,\nand every one a cap of cloth of gold, or cloth of silver, of different\ncolours, on his head, which was very delightful to the eye.\"\n\n\"The Beggars' Opera,\" in our own country, is another instance of the\nadmiration that thieves excite upon the stage. Of the extraordinary\nsuccess of this piece, when first produced, the following account is\ngiven in the notes to \"The Dunciad,\" and quoted by Johnson in his \"Lives\nof the Poets.\" \"This piece was received with greater applause than\nwas ever known. Besides being acted in London sixty-three days without\ninterruption, and renewed the next season with equal applause, it spread\ninto all the great towns of England; was played in many places to the\nthirtieth and fortieth time; at Bath and Bristol, &c. fifty. It made\nits progress into Wales, Scotland, and Ireland, where it was performed\ntwenty-four days successively. The ladies carried about with them the\nfavourite songs of it in fans, and houses were furnished with it in\nscreens. The fame of it was not confined to the author only. The person\nwho acted Polly, till then obscure, became all at once the favourite of\nthe town; [Lavinia Fenton, afterwards Duchess of Bolton.] her pictures\nwere engraved and sold in great numbers; her life written, books of\nletters and verses to her published, and pamphlets made even of her\nsayings and jests. Furthermore, it drove out of England, for that\nseason, the Italian Opera, which had carried all before it for ten\nyears.\" Dr. Johnson, in his Life of the Author, says, that Herring,\nafterwards Archbishop of Canterbury, censured the opera, as giving\nencouragement, not only to vice, but to crimes, by making the highwayman\nthe hero, and dismissing him at last unpunished; and adds, that it was\neven said, that after the exhibition the gangs of robbers were evidently\nmultiplied. The Doctor doubts the assertion, giving as his reason that\nhighwaymen and housebreakers seldom frequent the playhouse, and that it\nwas not possible for any one to imagine that he might rob with safety,\nbecause he saw Macheath reprieved upon the stage. But if Johnson had\nwished to be convinced, he might very easily have discovered that\nhighwaymen and housebreakers did frequent the theatre, and that nothing\nwas more probable than that a laughable representation of successful\nvillany should induce the young and the already vicious to imitate it.\nBesides, there is the weighty authority of Sir John Fielding, the\nchief magistrate of Bow Street, who asserted positively, and proved his\nassertion by the records of his office, that the number of thieves was\ngreatly increased at the time when that opera was so popular.\n\nWe have another instance of the same result much nearer our own times.\nSchiller's \"Rauber,\" that wonderful play, written by a green youth,\nperverted the taste and imagination of all the young men in Germany. An\naccomplished critic of our own country (Hazlitt), speaking of this play,\nsays it was the first he ever read, and such was the effect it\nproduced on him, that \"it stunned him, like a blow.\" After the lapse of\nfive-and-twenty years he could not forget it; it was still, to use his\nown words, \"an old dweller in the chambers of his brain,\" and he had\nnot even then recovered enough from it, to describe how it was. The\nhigh-minded, metaphysical thief, its hero, was so warmly admired, that\nseveral raw students, longing to imitate a character they thought so\nnoble, actually abandoned their homes and their colleges, and betook\nthemselves to the forests and wilds to levy contributions upon\ntravellers. They thought they would, like Moor, plunder the rich, and\ndeliver eloquent soliloquies to the setting sun or the rising moon;\nrelieve the poor when they met them, and drink flasks of Rhenish with\ntheir free companions in rugged mountain passes, or in tents in the\nthicknesses of the forests. But a little experience wonderfully cooled\ntheir courage; they found that real, every-day robbers were very unlike\nthe conventional banditti of the stage, and that three months in prison,\nwith bread and water for their fare, and damp straw to lie upon, was\nvery well to read about by their own fire sides, but not very agreeable\nto undergo in their own proper persons.\n\nLord Byron, with his soliloquising, high-souled thieves, has, in a\nslight degree, perverted the taste of the greenhorns and incipient\nrhymesters of his country. As yet, however, they have shown more good\nsense than their fellows of Germany, and have not taken to the woods or\nthe highways. Much as they admire Conrad the Corsair, they will not go\nto sea, and hoist the black flag in emulation of him. By words only, and\nnot by deeds, they testify their admiration, and deluge the periodicals\nand music shops of the hand with verses describing pirates' and bandits'\nbrides, and robber adventures of every kind.\n\nBut it is the play-wright who does most harm; and Byron has fewer\nsins of this nature to answer for than Gay or Schiller, and the modern\ndramatizers of Jack Sheppard. With the aid of scenery, fine dresses, and\nmusic, and the very false notions they convey, they vitiate the public\ntaste, not knowing,\n\n     \"-----------vulgaires rimeurs\n     Quelle force ont les arts pour demolir les moeurs.\"\n\nIn the penny theatres that abound in the poor and populous districts\nof London, and which are chiefly frequented by striplings of idle and\ndissolute habits, tales of thieves and murderers are more admired, and\ndraw more crowded audiences, than any other species of representation.\nThere the footpad, the burglar, and the highwayman are portrayed in\nunnatural colours, and give pleasant lessons in crime to their delighted\nlisteners. There the deepest tragedy and the broadest farce are\nrepresented in the career of the murderer and the thief, and are\napplauded in proportion to their depth and their breadth. There,\nwhenever a crime of unusual atrocity is committed, it is brought out\nafresh, with all its disgusting incidents copied from the life, for the\namusement of those who will one day become its imitators.\n\nWith the mere reader the case is widely different; and most people have\na partiality for knowing the adventures of noted rogues. Even in\nfiction they are delightful: witness the eventful story of Gil Blas de\nSantillane, and of that great rascal Don Guzman d'Alfarache. Here there\nis no fear of imitation. Poets, too, without doing mischief, may sing of\nsuch heroes when they please, wakening our sympathies for the sad fate\nof Gilderoy, or Macpherson the Dauntless; or celebrating in undying\nverse the wrongs and the revenge of the great thief of Scotland, Rob\nRoy. If, by the music of their sweet rhymes, they can convince the world\nthat such heroes are but mistaken philosophers, born a few ages too\nlate, and having both a theoretical and practical love for\n\n     \"The good old rule, the simple plan,\n     That they should take who have the power,\n     That they should keep who can,\"\n\nthe world may, perhaps, become wiser, and consent to some better\ndistribution of its good things, by means of which thieves may become\nreconciled to the age, and the age to them. The probability, however,\nseems to be, that the charmers will charm in vain, charm they ever so\nwisely.\n\n\n\n\nINFLUENCE OF POLITICS AND RELIGION ON THE HAIR AND BEARD.\n\n\n     Speak with respect and honour\n     Both of the beard and the beard's owner.\n\n     HUDIBRAS,\n\nThe famous declaration of St. Paul, \"that long hair was a shame unto\na man\" has been made the pretext for many singular enactments, both of\ncivil and ecclesiastical governments. The fashion of the hair and the\ncut of the beard were state questions in France and England from the\nestablishment of Christianity until the fifteenth century.\n\nWe find, too, that in much earlier times men were not permitted to do\nas they liked with their own hair. Alexander the Great thought that the\nbeards of his soldiery afforded convenient handles for the enemy to lay\nhold of, preparatory to cutting off their heads; and, with the view of\ndepriving them of this advantage, he ordered the whole of his army to\nbe closely shaven. His notions of courtesy towards an enemy were quite\ndifferent from those entertained by the North American Indians, amongst\nwhom it is held a point of honour to allow one \"chivalrous lock\" to\ngrow, that the foe, in taking the scalp, may have something to catch\nhold of.\n\nAt one time, long hair was the symbol of sovereignty in Europe. We learn\nfrom Gregory of Tours that, among the successors of Clovis, it was the\nexclusive privilege of the royal family to have their hair long,\nand curled. The nobles, equal to kings in power, would not show any\ninferiority in this respect, and wore not only their hair, but their\nbeards, of an enormous length. This fashion lasted, with but slight\nchanges, till the time of Louis the Debonnaire, but his successors, up\nto Hugh Capet, wore their hair short, by way of distinction. Even the\nserfs had set all regulation at defiance, and allowed their locks and\nbeards to grow.\n\nAt the time of the invasion of England by William the Conqueror, the\nNormans wore their hair very short. Harold, in his progress towards\nHastings, sent forward spies to view the strength and number of the\nenemy. They reported, amongst other things, on their return, that \"the\nhost did almost seem to be priests, because they had all their face and\nboth their lips shaven.\" The fashion among the English at the time was\nto wear the hair long upon the head and the upper lip, but to shave the\nchin. When the haughty victors had divided the broad lands of the Saxon\nthanes and franklins among them, when tyranny of every kind was employed\nto make the English feel that they were indeed a subdued and broken\nnation, the latter encouraged the growth of their hair, that they might\nresemble as little as possible their cropped and shaven masters.\n\nThis fashion was exceedingly displeasing to the clergy, and prevailed\nto a considerable extent in France and Germany. Towards the end of the\neleventh century, it was decreed by the Pope, and zealously supported\nby the ecclesiastical authorities all over Europe, that such persons as\nwore long hair should be excommunicated while living, and not be prayed\nfor when dead. William of Malmesbury relates, that the famous St.\nWulstan, Bishop of Worcester, was peculiarly indignant whenever he saw\na man with long hair. He declaimed against the practice as one highly\nimmoral, criminal, and beastly. He continually carried a small knife\nin his pocket, and whenever anybody, offending in this respect, knelt\nbefore him to receive his blessing, he would whip it out slily, and cut\noff a handful, and then, throwing it in his face, tell him to cut off\nall the rest, or he would go to hell.\n\nBut fashion, which at times it is possible to move with a wisp, stands\nfirm against a lever; and men preferred to run the risk of damnation\nto parting with the superfluity of their hair. In the time of Henry I,\nAnselm, Archbishop of Canterbury, found it necessary to republish the\nfamous decree of excommunication and outlawry against the offenders;\nbut, as the court itself had begun to patronize curls, the fulminations\nof the church were unavailing. Henry I and his nobles wore their hair\nin long ringlets down their backs and shoulders, and became a scandalum\nmagnatum in the eyes of the godly. One Serlo, the King's chaplain, was\nso grieved in spirit at the impiety of his master, that he preached a\nsermon from the well-known text of St. Paul, before the assembled court,\nin which he drew so dreadful a picture of the torments that awaited them\nin the other world, that several of them burst into tears, and wrung\ntheir hair, as if they would have pulled it out by the roots. Henry\nhimself was observed to weep. The priest, seeing the impression he had\nmade, determined to strike while the iron was hot, and, pulling a pair\nof scissors from his pocket, cut the king's hair in presence of them\nall. Several of the principal courtiers consented to do the like, and,\nfor a short time, long hair appeared to be going out of fashion. But\nthe courtiers thought, after the first glow of their penitence had been\ncooled by reflection, that the clerical Dalilah had shorn them of their\nstrength, and, in less than six months, they were as great sinners as\never.\n\nAnselm, the Archbishop of Canterbury, who had been a monk of Bec,\nin Normandy, and who had signalized himself at Rouen by his fierce\nopposition to long hair, was still anxious to work a reformation in this\nmatter. But his pertinacity was far from pleasing to the King, who had\nfinally made up his mind to wear ringlets. There were other disputes, of\na more serious nature, between them; so that when the Archbishop died,\nthe King was so glad to be rid of him, that he allowed the see to remain\nvacant for five years. Still the cause had other advocates, and every\npulpit in the land resounded with anathemas against that disobedient and\nlong-haired generation. But all was of no avail. Stowe, in writing of\nthis period, asserts, on the authority of some more ancient chronicler,\n\"that men, forgetting their birth, transformed themselves, by the length\nof their haires, into the semblance of woman kind;\" and that when their\nhair decayed from age, or other causes, \"they knit about their heads\ncertain rolls and braidings of false hair.\" At last accident turned the\ntide of fashion. A knight of the court, who was exceedingly proud of\nhis beauteous locks, dreamed one night that, as he lay in bed, the devil\nsprang upon him, and endeavoured to choke him with his own hair. He\nstarted in affright, and actually found that he had a great quantity of\nhair in his mouth. Sorely stricken in conscience, and looking upon the\ndream as a warning from Heaven, he set about the work of reformation,\nand cut off his luxuriant tresses the same night. The story was soon\nbruited abroad; of course it was made the most of by the clergy, and the\nknight, being a man of influence and consideration, and the acknowledged\nleader of the fashion, his example, aided by priestly exhortations, was\nvery generally imitated. Men appeared almost as decent as St. Wulstan\nhimself could have wished, the dream of a dandy having proved more\nefficacious than the entreaties of a saint. But, as Stowe informs us,\n\"scarcely was one year past, when all that thought themselves courtiers\nfell into the former vice, and contended with women in their long\nhaires.\" Henry, the King, appears to have been quite uninfluenced by the\ndreams of others, for even his own would not induce him a second time\nto undergo a cropping from priestly shears. It is said, that he was\nmuch troubled at this time by disagreeable visions. Having offended\nthe church in this and other respects, he could get no sound refreshing\nsleep, and used to imagine that he saw all the bishops, abbots, and\nmonks of every degree, standing around his bed-side, and threatening to\nbelabour him with their pastoral staves; which sight, we are told, so\nfrightened him, that he often started naked out of his bed, and attacked\nthe phantoms sword in hand. Grimbalde, his physician, who, like most of\nhis fraternity at that day, was an ecclesiastic, never hinted that his\ndreams were the result of a bad digestion, but told him to shave his\nhead, be reconciled to the Church, and reform himself with alms and\nprayer. But he would not take this good advice, and it was not until he\nhad been nearly drowned a year afterwards, in a violent storm at sea,\nthat he repented of his evil ways, cut his hair short, and paid proper\ndeference to the wishes of the clergy.\n\nIn France, the thunders of the Vatican with regard to long curly hair\nwere hardly more respected than in England. Louis VII. however, was\nmore obedient than his brother-king, and cropped himself as closely as\na monk, to the great sorrow of all the gallants of his court. His Queen,\nthe gay, haughty, and pleasure-seeking Eleanor of Guienne, never admired\nhim in this trim, and continually reproached him with imitating, not\nonly the headdress, but the asceticism of the monks. From this cause, a\ncoldness arose between them. The lady proving at last unfaithful to her\nshaven and indifferent lord, they were divorced, and the Kings of France\nlost the rich provinces of Guienne and Poitou, which were her dowry.\nShe soon after bestowed her hand and her possessions upon Henry Duke\nof Normandy, afterwards Henry II of England, and thus gave the English\nsovereigns that strong footing in France which was for so many centuries\nthe cause of such long and bloody wars between the nations.\n\nWhen the Crusades had drawn all the smart young fellows into Palestine,\nthe clergy did not find it so difficult to convince the staid burghers\nwho remained in Europe, of the enormity of long hair. During the absence\nof Richard Coeur de Lion, his English subjects not only cut their hair\nclose, but shaved their faces. William Fitzosbert, or Long-beard, the\ngreat demagogue of that day, reintroduced among the people who claimed\nto be of Saxon origin the fashion of long hair. He did this with the\nview of making them as unlike as possible to the citizens and the\nNormans. He wore his own beard hanging down to his waist, from whence\nthe name by which he is best known to posterity.\n\nThe Church never showed itself so great an enemy to the beard as to long\nhair on the head. It generally allowed fashion to take its own course,\nboth with regard to the chin and the upper lip. This fashion varied\ncontinually; for we find that, in little more than a century after the\ntime of Richard I, when beards were short, that they had again become\nso long as to be mentioned in the famous epigram made by the Scots who\nvisited London in 1327, when David, son of Robert Bruce, was married to\nJoan, the sister of King Edward. This epigram, which was stuck on the\nchurch-door of St. Peter Stangate, ran as follows--\n\n     \"Long beards heartlesse,\n     Painted hoods witlesse,\n     Gray coats gracelesse,\n     Make England thriftlesse.\"\n\nWhen the Emperor Charles V. ascended the throne of Spain, he had no\nbeard. It was not to be expected that the obsequious parasites who\nalways surround a monarch, could presume to look more virile than their\nmaster. Immediately all the courtiers appeared beardless, with the\nexception of such few grave old men as had outgrown the influence of\nfashion, and who had determined to die bearded as they had lived. Sober\npeople in general saw this revolution with sorrow and alarm, and thought\nthat every manly virtue would be banished with the beard. It became at\nthe time a common saying,--\n\n     \"Desde que no hay barba, no hay mas alma.\"\n     We have no longer souls since we have lost our beards.\n\nIn France, also, the beard fell into disrepute after the death of Henry\nIV, from the mere reason that his successor was too young to have\none. Some of the more immediate friends of the great Bearnais, and\nhis minister Sully among the rest, refused to part with their beards,\nnotwithstanding the jeers of the new generation.\n\nWho does not remember the division of England into the two great parties\nof Roundheads and Cavaliers? In those days, every species of vice and\niniquity was thought by the Puritans to lurk in the long curly tresses\nof the Monarchists, while the latter imagined that their opponents were\nas destitute of wit, of wisdom, and of virtue, as they were of hair. A\nman's locks were the symbol of his creed, both in politics and religion.\nThe more abundant the hair, the more scant the faith; and the balder the\nhead, the more sincere the piety.\n\nBut among all the instances of the interference of governments with\nmen's hair, the most extraordinary, not only for its daring, but for its\nsuccess is that of Peter the Great, in 1705. By this time, fashion had\ncondemned the beard in every other country in Europe, and with a voice\nmore potent than Popes or Emperors, had banished it from civilized\nsociety. But this only made the Russians cling more fondly to their\nancient ornament, as a mark to distinguish them from foreigners, whom\nthey hated. Peter, however resolved that they should be shaven. If he\nhad been a man deeply read in history, he might have hesitated before\nhe attempted so despotic an attack upon the time-hallowed customs\nand prejudices of his countrymen; but he was not. He did not know\nor consider the danger of the innovation; he only listened to the\npromptings of his own indomitable will, and his fiat went forth, that\nnot only the army, but all ranks of citizens, from the nobles to the\nserfs, should shave their beards. A certain time was given, that people\nmight get over the first throes of their repugnance, after which every\nman who chose to retain his beard was to pay a tax of one hundred\nroubles. The priests and the serfs were put on a lower footing, and\nallowed to retain theirs upon payment of a copeck every time they passed\nthe gate of a city. Great discontent existed in consequence, but the\ndreadful fate of the Strelitzes was too recent to be forgotten, and\nthousands who had the will had not the courage to revolt. As is well\nremarked by a writer in the \"Encyclopedia Britannica,\" they thought it\nwiser to cut off their beards than to run the risk of incensing a man\nwho would make no scruple in cutting off their heads. Wiser, too, than\nthe popes and bishops of a former age, he did not threaten them with\neternal damnation, but made them pay in hard cash the penalty of their\ndisobedience. For many years, a very considerable revenue was collected\nfrom this source. The collectors gave in receipt for its payment a\nsmall copper coin, struck expressly for the purpose, and called the\n\"borodovaia,\" or \"the bearded.\" On one side it bore the figure of a\nnose, mouth, and moustachios, with a long bushy beard, surmounted by\nthe words, \"Deuyee Vyeatee,\" \"money received;\" the whole encircled by a\nwreath, and stamped with the black eagle of Russia. On the reverse,\nit bore the date of the year. Every man who chose to wear a beard was\nobliged to produce this receipt on his entry into a town. Those who were\nrefractory, and refused to pay the tax, were thrown into prison.\n\nSince that day, the rulers of modern Europe have endeavoured to\npersuade, rather than to force, in all matters pertaining to fashion.\nThe Vatican troubles itself no more about beards or ringlets, and men\nmay become hairy as bears, if such is their fancy, without fear of\nexcommunication or deprivation of their political rights. Folly has\ntaken a new start, and cultivates the moustachio.\n\nEven upon this point governments will not let men alone. Religion as\nyet has not meddled with it; but perhaps it will; and politics already\ninfluence it considerably. Before the revolution of 1830, neither the\nFrench nor Belgian citizens were remarkable for their moustachios;\nbut, after that event, there was hardly a shopkeeper either in Paris or\nBrussels whose upper lip did not suddenly become hairy with real or mock\nmoustachios. During a temporary triumph gained by the Dutch soldiers\nover the citizens of Louvain, in October 1830, it became a standing joke\nagainst the patriots, that they shaved their faces clean immediately;\nand the wits of the Dutch army asserted, that they had gathered\nmoustachios enough from the denuded lips of the Belgians to stuff\nmattresses for all the sick and wounded in their hospital.\n\nThe last folly of this kind is still more recent. In the German\nnewspapers, of August 1838, appeared an ordonnance, signed by the King\nof Bavaria, forbidding civilians, on any pretence whatever, to wear\nmoustachios, and commanding the police and other authorities to arrest,\nand cause to be shaved, the offending parties. \"Strange to say,\" adds\n\"Le Droit,\" the journal from which this account is taken, \"moustachios\ndisappeared immediately, like leaves from the trees in autumn; everybody\nmade haste to obey the royal order, and not one person was arrested.\"\n\nThe King of Bavaria, a rhymester of some celebrity, has taken a good\nmany poetical licences in his time. His licence in this matter appears\nneither poetical nor reasonable. It is to be hoped that he will not take\nit into his royal head to make his subjects shave theirs; nothing but\nthat is wanting to complete their degradation.\n\n\n\n\nDUELS AND ORDEALS\n\n     There was an ancient sage philosopher,\n     Who swore the world, as he could prove,\n     Was mad of fighting.    *    *    *\n\n     Hudibras,\n\nMost writers, in accounting for the origin of duelling, derive it from\nthe warlike habits of those barbarous nations who overran Europe in the\nearly centuries of the Christian era, and who knew no mode so effectual\nfor settling their differences as the point of the sword. In fact,\nduelling, taken in its primitive and broadest sense, means nothing\nmore than combatting, and is the universal resort of all wild animals,\nincluding man, to gain or defend their possessions, or avenge their\ninsults. Two dogs who tear each other for a bone, or two bantams\nfighting on a dunghill for the love of some beautiful hen, or two fools\non Wimbledon Common, shooting at each other to satisfy the laws of\noffended honour, stand on the same footing in this respect, and are,\neach and all, mere duellists. As civilization advanced, the best\ninformed men naturally grew ashamed of such a mode of adjusting\ndisputes, and the promulgation of some sort of laws for obtaining\nredress for injuries was the consequence. Still there were many cases\nin which the allegations of an accuser could not be rebutted by any\npositive proof on the part of the accused; and in all these, which must\nhave been exceedingly numerous in the early stages of European society,\nthe combat was resorted to. From its decision there was no appeal. God\nwas supposed to nerve the arm of the combatant whose cause was just, and\nto grant him the victory over his opponent. As Montesquieu well remarks,\n[\"Esprit des Loix,\" liv. xxviii. chap. xvii.] this belief was not\nunnatural among a people just emerging from barbarism. Their manners\nbeing wholly warlike, the man deficient in courage, the prime virtue\nof his fellows, was not unreasonably suspected of other vices besides\ncowardice, which is generally found to be co-existent with treachery.\nHe, therefore, who showed himself most valiant in the encounter,\nwas absolved by public opinion from any crime with which he might be\ncharged. As a necessary consequence, society would have been reduced to\nits original elements, if the men of thought, as distinguished from the\nmen of action, had not devised some means for taming the unruly passions\nof their fellows. With this view, governments commenced by restricting\nwithin the narrowest possible limits the cases in which it was lawful\nto prove or deny guilt by the single combat. By the law of Gondebaldus,\nKing of the Burgundians, passed in the year 501, the proof by combat was\nallowed in all legal proceedings, in lieu of swearing. In the time of\nCharlemagne, the Burgundian practice had spread over the empire of the\nFrancs, and not only the suitors for justice, but the witnesses, and\neven the judges, were obliged to defend their cause, their evidence,\nor their decision, at the point of the sword. Louis the Debonnaire, his\nsuccessor, endeavoured to remedy the growing evil, by permitting the\nduel only in appeals of felony, in civil cases, or issue joined in a\nwrit of right, and in cases of the court of chivalry, or attacks upon\na man's knighthood. None were exempt from these trials, but women, the\nsick and the maimed, and persons under fifteen or above sixty years of\nage. Ecclesiastics were allowed to produce champions in their stead.\nThis practice, in the course of time, extended to all trials of civil\nand criminal cases, which had to be decided by battle.\n\nThe clergy, whose dominion was an intellectual one, never approved of a\nsystem of jurisprudence which tended so much to bring all things under\nthe rule of the strongest arm. From the first they set their faces\nagainst duelling, and endeavoured, as far as the prejudices of their\nage would allow them, to curb the warlike spirit, so alien from the\nprinciples of religion. In the Council of Valentia, and afterwards\nin the Council of Trent, they excommunicated all persons engaged in\nduelling, and not only them, but even the assistants and spectators,\ndeclaring the custom to be hellish and detestable, and introduced by the\nDevil for the destruction both of body and soul. They added, also, that\nprinces who connived at duels, should be deprived of all temporal power,\njurisdiction, and dominion over the places where they had permitted them\nto be fought. It will be seen hereafter that this clause only encouraged\nthe practice which it was intended to prevent.\n\nBut it was the blasphemous error of these early ages to expect that the\nAlmighty, whenever he was called upon, would work a miracle in favour of\na person unjustly accused. The priesthood, in condemning the duel, did\nnot condemn the principle on which it was founded. They still encouraged\nthe popular belief of Divine interference in all the disputes or\ndifferences that might arise among nations or individuals. It was the\nvery same principle that regulated the ordeals, which, with all their\ninfluence, they supported against the duel. By the former, the power of\ndeciding the guilt or innocence was vested wholly in their hands, while,\nby the latter, they enjoyed no power or privilege at all. It is not to\nbe wondered at, that for this reason, if for no other, they should have\nendeavoured to settle all differences by the peaceful mode. While that\nprevailed, they were as they wished to be, the first party in the state;\nbut while the strong arm of individual prowess was allowed to be the\njudge in all doubtful cases, their power and influence became secondary\nto those of nobility.\n\nThus, it was not the mere hatred of bloodshed which induced them to\nlaunch the thunderbolts excommunication against the combatants; it a\ndesire to retain the power, which, to do them justice, they were, in\nthose times, the persons best qualified to wield. The germs of knowledge\nand civilization lay within the bounds of their order; for they were\nthe representatives of the intellectual, as the nobility were of the\nphysical power of man. To centralize this power in the Church, and\nmake it the judge of the last resort in all appeals, both in civil and\ncriminal cases, they instituted five modes of trial, the management\nof which lay wholly in their hands. These were the oath upon the\nEvangelists; the ordeal of the cross, and the fire ordeal, for persons\nin the higher ranks; the water ordeal, for the humbler classes; and,\nlastly, the Corsned, or bread and cheese ordeal, for members of their\nown body.\n\nThe oath upon the Evangelists was taken in the following manner:\nthe accused who was received to this proof, says Paul Hay, Count du\nChastelet, in his Memoirs of Bertrand du Guesclin, swore upon a copy of\nthe New Testament, and on the relics of the holy martyrs, or on their\ntombs, that he was innocent of the crime imputed to him. He was also\nobliged to find twelve persons, of acknowledged probity, who should take\noath at the same time, that they believed him innocent. This mode\nof trial led to very great abuses, especially in cases of disputed\ninheritance, where the hardest swearer was certain of the victory. This\nabuse was one of the principal causes which led to the preference given\nto the trial by battle. It is not all surprising that a feudal baron, or\ncaptain of the early ages, should have preferred the chances of a fair\nfight with his opponent, to a mode by which firm perjury would always be\nsuccessful.\n\nThe trial by, or judgment of, the cross, which Charlemagne begged his\nsons to have recourse to, in case of disputes arising between them, was\nperformed thus:--When a person accused of any crime had declared his\ninnocence upon oath, and appealed to the cross for its judgment in his\nfavour, he was brought into the church, before the altar. The priests\npreviously prepared two sticks exactly like one another, upon one of\nwhich was carved a figure of the cross. They were both wrapped up with\ngreat care and many ceremonies, in a quantity of fine wool, and laid\nupon the altar, or on the relics of the saints. A solemn prayer was then\noffered up to God, that he would be pleased to discover, by the judgment\nof his holy cross, whether the accused person were innocent or guilty. A\npriest then approached the altar, and took up one of the sticks, and the\nassistants unswathed it reverently. If it was marked with the cross,\nthe accused person was innocent; if unmarked, he was guilty. It would be\nunjust to assert, that the judgments thus delivered were, in all\ncases, erroneous; and it would be absurd to believe that they were left\naltogether to chance. Many true judgments were doubtless given, and, in\nall probability, most conscientiously; for we cannot but believe that\nthe priests endeavoured beforehand to convince themselves by secret\ninquiry and a strict examination of the circumstances, whether the\nappellant were innocent or guilty, and that they took up the crossed\nor uncrossed stick accordingly. Although, to all other observers, the\nsticks, as enfolded in the wool, might appear exactly similar, those who\nenwrapped them could, without any difficulty, distinguish the one from\nthe other.\n\nBy the fire-ordeal the power of deciding was just as unequivocally left\nin their hands. It was generally believed that fire would not burn the\ninnocent, and the clergy, of course, took care that the innocent, or\nsuch as it was their pleasure or interest to declare so, should be so\nwarned before undergoing the ordeal, as to preserve themselves without\nany difficulty from the fire. One mode of ordeal was to place red-hot\nploughshares on the ground at certain distances, and then, blindfolding\nthe accused person, make him walk barefooted over them. If he stepped\nregularly in the vacant spaces, avoiding the fire, he was adjudged\ninnocent; if he burned himself, he was declared guilty. As none but the\nclergy interfered with the arrangement of the ploughshares, they could\nalways calculate beforehand the result of the ordeal. To find a person\nguilty, they had only to place them at irregular distances, and the\naccused was sure to tread upon one of them. When Emma, the wife of King\nEthelred, and mother of Edward the Confessor, was accused of a guilty\nfamiliarity with Alwyn, Bishop of Winchester, she cleared her character\nin this manner. The reputation, not only of their order, but of a queen,\nbeing at stake, a verdict of guilty was not to be apprehended from any\nploughshares which priests had the heating of. This ordeal was called\nthe Judicium Dei, and sometimes the Vulgaris Purgatio, and might also be\ntried by several other methods. One was to hold in the hand, unhurt, a\npiece of red-hot iron, of the weight of one, two, or three pounds. When\nwe read not only that men with hard hands, but women of softer and more\ndelicate skin, could do this with impunity, we must be convinced that\nthe hands were previously rubbed with some preservative, or that the\napparently hot iron was merely cold iron painted red. Another mode was\nto plunge the naked arm into a caldron of boiling water. The priests\nthen enveloped it in several folds of linen and flannel, and kept the\npatient confined within the church, and under their exclusive care,\nfor three days. If, at the end of that time, the arm appeared without a\nscar, the innocence of the accused person was firmly established. [Very\nsimilar to this is the fire-ordeal of the modern Hindoos, which is thus\ndescribed in Forbes's \"Oriental Memoirs,\" vol. i. c. xi.--\"When a man,\naccused of a capital crime, chooses to undergo the ordeal trial, he is\nclosely confined for several days; his right hand and arm are covered\nwith thick wax-cloth, tied up and sealed, in the presence of proper\nofficers, to prevent deceit. In the English districts the covering was\nalways sealed with the Company's arms, and the prisoner placed under an\nEuropean guard. At the time fixed for the ordeal, a caldron of oil is\nplaced over a fire; when it boils, a piece of money is dropped into the\nvessel; the prisoner's arm is unsealed, and washed in the presence of\nhis judges and accusers. During this part of the ceremony, the attendant\nBrahmins supplicate the Deity. On receiving their benediction, the\naccused plunges his hand into the boiling fluid, and takes out the coin.\nThe arm is afterwards again Sealed up until the time appointed for a\nre-examination. The seal is then broken: if no blemish appears,\nthe prisoner is declared innocent; if the contrary, he suffers the\npunishment due to his crime.\" * * * On this trial the accused thus\naddresses the element before plunging his hand into the boiling\noil:--\"Thou, O fire! pervadest all things. O cause of purity! who givest\nevidence of virtue and of sin, declare the truth in this my hand!\" If no\njuggling were practised, the decisions by this ordeal would be all the\nsame way; but, as some are by this means declared guilty, and others\ninnocent, it is clear that the Brahmins, like the Christian priests of\nthe middle ages, practise some deception in saving those whom they wish\nto be thought guiltless.]\n\nAs regards the water-ordeal, the same trouble was not taken. It was a\ntrial only for the poor and humble, and, whether they sank or swam,\nwas thought of very little consequence. Like the witches of more modern\ntimes, the accused were thrown into a pond or river; if they sank, and\nwere drowned, their surviving friends had the consolation of knowing\nthat they were innocent; if they swam, they were guilty. In either case\nsociety was rid of them.\n\nBut of all the ordeals, that which the clergy reserved for themselves\nwas the one least likely to cause any member of their corps to be\ndeclared guilty. The most culpable monster in existence came off clear\nwhen tried by this method. It was called the Corsned, and was thus\nperformed. A piece of barley bread and a piece of cheese were laid\nupon the altar, and the accused priest, in his full canonicals, and\nsurrounded by all the pompous adjuncts of Roman ceremony, pronounced\ncertain conjurations, and prayed with great fervency for several\nminutes. The burden of his prayer was, that if he were guilty of the\ncrime laid to his charge, God would send his angel Gabriel to stop his\nthroat, that he might not be able to swallow the bread and cheese.\nThere is no instance upon record of a priest having been choked in\nthis manner. [An ordeal very like this is still practised in India.\nConsecrated rice is the article chosen, instead of bread and cheese.\nInstances are not rare in which, through the force of imagination,\nguilty persons are not able to swallow a single grain. Conscious of\ntheir crime, and fearful of the punishment of Heaven, they feel a\nsuffocating sensation in their throat when they attempt it, and they\nfall on their knees, and confess all that is laid to their charge. The\nsame thing, no doubt, would have happened with the bread and cheese\nof the Roman church, if it had been applied to any others but\necclesiastics. The latter had too much wisdom to be caught in a trap of\ntheir own setting.]\n\nWhen, under Pope Gregory VII, it was debated whether the Gregorian chant\nshould be introduced into Castile, instead of the Musarabic, given by\nSt. Isidore, of Seville, to the churches of that kingdom, very much ill\nfeeling was excited. The churches refused to receive the novelty, and it\nwas proposed that the affair should be decided by a battle between two\nchampions, one chosen from each side. The clergy would not consent to a\nmode of settlement which they considered impious, but had no objection\nto try the merits of each chant by the fire ordeal. A great fire was\naccordingly made, and a book of the Gregorian and one of the Musarabic\nchant were thrown into it, that the flames might decide which was most\nagreeable to God by refusing to burn it. Cardinal Baronius, who says\nhe was an eye-witness of the miracle, relates, that the book of the\nGregorian chant was no sooner laid upon the fire, than it leaped out\nuninjured, visibly, and with a great noise. Every one present thought\nthat the saints had decided in favour of Pope Gregory. After a slight\ninterval, the fire was extinguished; but, wonderful to relate! the other\nbook of St. Isidore was found covered with ashes, but not injured in the\nslightest degree. The flames had not even warmed it. Upon this it was\nresolved, that both were alike agreeable to God, and that they should\nbe used by turns in all the churches of Seville? [Histoire de Messire\nBertrand du Guesclin, par Paul Hay du Chastelet. Livre i. chap. xix.]\n\nIf the ordeals had been confined to questions like this, the laity would\nhave had little or no objection to them; but when they were introduced\nas decisive in all the disputes that might arise between man and man,\nthe opposition of all those whose prime virtue was personal bravery, was\nnecessarily excited. In fact, the nobility, from a very early period,\nbegan to look with jealous eyes upon them. They were not slow to\nperceive their true purport, which was no other than to make the Church\nthe last court of appeal in all cases, both civil and criminal: and not\nonly did the nobility prefer the ancient mode of single combat from\nthis cause, in itself a sufficient one, but they clung to it because\nan acquittal gained by those displays of courage and address which the\nbattle afforded, was more creditable in the eyes of their compeers, than\none which it required but little or none of either to accomplish. To\nthese causes may be added another, which was, perhaps, more potent than\neither, in raising the credit of the judicial combat at the expense\nof the ordeal. The noble institution of chivalry was beginning to take\nroot, and, notwithstanding the clamours of the clergy, war was made the\nsole business of life, and the only elegant pursuit of the aristocracy.\nThe fine spirit of honour was introduced, any attack upon which was only\nto be avenged in the lists, within sight of applauding crowds, whose\nverdict of approbation was far more gratifying than the cold and formal\nacquittal of the ordeal. Lothaire, the son of Louis I, abolished that\nby fire and the trial of the cross within his dominions; but in England\nthey were allowed so late as the time of Henry III, in the early part\nof whose reign they were prohibited by an order of council. In the mean\ntime, the Crusades had brought the institution of chivalry to the full\nheight of perfection. The chivalric spirit soon achieved the downfall\nof the ordeal system, and established the judicial combat on a basis\ntoo firm to be shaken. It is true that with the fall of chivalry, as an\ninstitution, fell the tournament, and the encounter in the lists; but\nthe duel, their offspring, has survived to this day, defying the\nefforts of sages and philosophers to eradicate it. Among all the\nerrors bequeathed to us by a barbarous age, it has proved the most\npertinacious. It has put variance between men's reason and their honour;\nput the man of sense on a level with the fool, and made thousands who\ncondemn it submit to it, or practise it. Those who are curious to\nsee the manner in which these combats were regulated, may consult the\nlearned Montesquieu, where they will find a copious summary of the code\nof ancient duelling. [\"Esprit des Loix,\" livre xxviii. chap. xxv.]\nTruly does he remark, in speaking of the clearness and excellence of the\narrangements, that, as there were many wise matters which were conducted\nin a very foolish manner, so there were many foolish matters conducted\nvery wisely. No greater exemplification of it could be given, than the\nwise and religious rules of the absurd and blasphemous trial by battle.\n\nIn the ages that intervened between the Crusades and the new era that\nwas opened out by the invention of gunpowder and printing, a more\nrational system of legislation took root. The inhabitants of cities,\nengaged in the pursuits of trade and industry, were content to\nacquiesce in the decisions of their judges and magistrates whenever any\ndifferences arose among them. Unlike the class above them, their habits\nand manners did not lead them to seek the battle-field on every slight\noccasion. A dispute as to the price of a sack of corn, a bale of\nbroad-cloth, or a cow, could be more satisfactorily adjusted before the\nmayor or bailiff of their district. Even the martial knights and nobles,\nquarrelsome as they were, began to see that the trial by battle\nwould lose its dignity and splendour if too frequently resorted\nto. Governments also shared this opinion, and on several occasions\nrestricted the cases in which it was legal to proceed to this extremity.\nIn France, before the time of Louis IX, duels were permitted only in\ncases of Lese Majesty, Rape, Incendiarism, Assassination, and Burglary.\nLouis IX, by taking off all restriction, made them legal in civil eases.\nThis was not found to work well, and, in 1303, Philip the Fair judged it\nnecessary to confine them, in criminal matters, to state offences,\nrape, and incendiarism; and in civil cases, to questions of disputed\ninheritance. Knighthood was allowed to be the best judge of its own\nhonour, and might defend or avenge it as often as occasion arose.\n\nAmong the earliest duels upon record, is a very singular one that\ntook place in the reign of Louis II (A.D. 878). Ingelgerius, Count of\nGastinois, was one morning discovered by his Countess dead in bed at her\nside. Gontran, a relation of the Count, accused the Countess of\nhaving murdered her husband, to whom, he asserted, she had long been\nunfaithful, and challenged her to produce a champion to do battle in her\nbehalf, that he might establish her guilt by killing him.[Memoires\nde Brantome touchant les Duels.] All the friends and relatives of the\nCountess believed in her innocence; but Gontran was so stout and bold\nand renowned a warrior, that no one dared to meet him, for which, as\nBrantome quaintly says, \"Mauvais et poltrons parens estaient.\" The\nunhappy Countess began to despair, when a champion suddenly appeared\nin the person of Ingelgerius, Count of Anjou, a boy of sixteen years\nof age, who had been held by the Countess on the baptismal font, and\nreceived her husband's name. He tenderly loved his godmother, and\noffered to do battle in her cause against any and every opponent. The\nKing endeavoured to persuade the generous boy from his enterprise,\nurging the great strength, tried skill, and invincible courage of the\nchallenger; but he persisted in his resolution, to the great sorrow\nof all the court, who said it was a cruel thing to permit so brave and\nbeautiful a child to rush to such butchery and death.\n\nWhen the lists were prepared, the Countess duly acknowledged her\nchampion, and the combatants commenced the onset. Gontran rode so\nfiercely at his antagonist, and hit him on the shield with such\nimpetuosity, that he lost his own balance and rolled to the ground. The\nyoung Count, as Gontran fell, passed his lance through his body, and\nthen dismounting, cut off his head, which, Brantome says, \"he presented\nto the King, who received it most graciously, and was very joyful, as\nmuch so as if any one had made him a present of a city.\" The innocence\nof the Countess was then proclaimed with great rejoicings; and she\nkissed her godson, and wept over his neck with joy, in the presence of\nall the assembly.\n\nWhen the Earl of Essex was accused, by Robert de Montfort, before King\nHenry II, in 1162, of having traitorously suffered the royal standard\nof England to fall from his hands in a skirmish with the Welsh, at\nColeshill, five years previously, the latter offered to prove the\ntruth of the charge by single combat. The Earl of Essex accepted\nthe challenge, and the lists were prepared near Reading. An immense\nconcourse of persons assembled to witness the battle. Essex at first\nfought stoutly, but, losing his temper and self-command, he gave an\nadvantage to his opponent, which soon decided the struggle. He was\nunhorsed, and so severely wounded, that all present thought he was dead.\nAt the solicitation of his relatives, the monks of the Abbey of Reading\nwere allowed to remove the body for interment, and Montfort was declared\nthe victor. Essex, however, was not dead, but stunned only, and,\nunder the care of the monks, recovered in a few weeks from his bodily\ninjuries. The wounds of his mind were not so easily healed. Though a\nloyal and brave subject, the whole realm believed him a traitor and a\ncoward because he had been vanquished. He could not brook to return to\nthe world deprived of the good opinion of his fellows; he, therefore,\nmade himself a monk, and passed the remainder of his days within the\nwalls of the Abbey.\n\nDu Chastelet relates a singular duel that was proposed in\nSpain.[Histoire de Messire Bertrand du Guesclin, livre i. chap. xix.] A\nChristian gentleman of Seville sent a challenge to a Moorish cavalier,\noffering to prove against him, with whatever weapons he might choose,\nthat the religion of Jesus Christ was holy and divine, and that of\nMahomet impious and damnable. The Spanish prelates did not choose that\nChristianity should be com promised within their jurisdiction by the\nresult of any such combat, and they commanded the knight, under pain of\nexcommunication, to withdraw the challenge.\n\nThe same author relates, that under Otho I a question arose among\njurisconsults, viz. whether grandchildren, who had lost their father,\nshould share equally with their uncles in the property of their\ngrandfather, at the death of the latter. The difficulty of this question\nwas found so insurmountable, that none of the lawyers of that day could\nresolve it. It was at last decreed, that it should be decided by single\ncombat. Two champions were accordingly chosen; one for, and the other\nagainst, the claims of the little ones. After a long struggle, the\nchampion of the uncles was unhorsed and slain; and it was, therefore,\ndecided, that the right of the grandchildren was established, and that\nthey should enjoy the same portion of their grandfather's possessions\nthat their father would have done had he been alive.\n\nUpon pretexts, just as frivolous as these, duels continued to be fought\nin most of the countries of Europe during the whole of the fourteenth\nand fifteenth centuries. A memorable instance of the slightness of the\npretext on which a man could be forced to fight a duel to the death,\noccurs in the Memoirs of the brave Constable, Du Guesclin. The advantage\nhe had obtained, in a skirmish before Rennes, against William Brembre,\nan English captain, so preyed on the spirits of William Troussel, the\nchosen friend and companion of the latter, that nothing would satisfy\nhim but a mortal combat with the Constable. The Duke of Lancaster,\nto whom Troussel applied for permission to fight the great Frenchman,\nforbade the battle, as not warranted by the circumstances. Troussel\nnevertheless burned with a fierce desire to cross his weapon with Du\nGuesclin, and sought every occasion to pick a quarrel with him. Having\nso good a will for it, of course he found a way. A relative of his had\nbeen taken prisoner by the Constable, in whose hands he remained till he\nwas able to pay his ransom. Troussel resolved to make a quarrel out of\nthis, and despatched a messenger to Du Guesclin, demanding the release\nof his prisoner, and offering a bond, at a distant date, for the payment\nof the ransom. Du Guesclin, who had received intimation of the hostile\npurposes of the Englishman, sent back word, that he would not accept his\nbond, neither would he release his prisoner, until the full amount of\nhis ransom was paid. As soon as this answer was received, Troussel sent\na challenge to the Constable, demanding reparation for the injury he had\ndone his honour, by refusing his bond, and offering a mortal combat, to\nbe fought three strokes with the lance, three with the sword, and\nthree with the dagger. Du Guesclin, although ill in bed with the ague,\naccepted the challenge, and gave notice to the Marshal d'Andreghem, the\nKing's Lieutenant-General in Lower Normandy, that he might fix the day\nand the place of combat. The Marshal made all necessary arrangements,\nupon condition that he who was beaten should pay a hundred florins\nof gold to feast the nobles and gentlemen who were witnesses of the\nencounter.\n\nThe Duke of Lancaster was very angry with his captain, and told him,\nthat it would be a shame to his knighthood and his nation, if he forced\non a combat with the brave Du Guesclin, at a time when he was enfeebled\nby disease and stretched on the couch of suffering. Upon these\nrepresentations, Troussel, ashamed of himself, sent notice to Du\nGuesclin that he was willing to postpone the duel until such time as he\nshould be perfectly recovered. Du Guesclin replied, that he could not\nthink of postponing the combat, after all the nobility had received\nnotice of it; that he had sufficient strength left, not only to meet,\nbut to conquer such an opponent as he was; and that, if he did not make\nhis appearance in the lists at the time appointed, he would publish\nhim everywhere as a man unworthy to be called a knight, or to wear an\nhonourable sword by his side. Troussel carried this haughty message to\nthe Duke of Lancaster, who immediately gave permission for the battle.\n\nOn the day appointed, the two combatants appeared in the lists, in the\npresence of several thousand spectators. Du Guesclin was attended by\nthe flower of the French nobility, including the Marshal de Beaumanoir,\nOlivier de Mauny, Bertrand de Saint Pern, and the Viscount de la\nBelliere, while the Englishman appeared with no more than the customary\nretinue of two seconds, two squires, two coutilliers, or daggermen, and\ntwo trumpeters. The first onset was unfavourable to the Constable: he\nreceived so heavy a blow on his shield-arm, that he fell forward to\nthe left, upon his horse's neck, and, being weakened by his fever, was\nnearly thrown to the ground. All his friends thought he could never\nrecover himself, and began to deplore his ill fortune; but Du Guesclin\ncollected his energies for a decisive effort, and, at the second charge,\naimed a blow at the shoulder of his enemy, which felled him to the\nearth, mortally wounded. He then sprang from his horse, sword in hand,\nwith the intention of cutting off the head of his fallen foe, when the\nMarshal D'Andreghem threw a golden wand into the arena, as a signal that\nhostilities should cease. Du Guesclin was proclaimed the victor, amid\nthe joyous acclamations of the crowd, and retiring, left the field to\nthe meaner combatants, who were afterwards to make sport for the people.\nFour English and as many French squires fought for some time with\npointless lances, when the French, gaining the advantage, the sports\nwere declared at an end.\n\nIn the time of Charles VI, about the beginning of the fifteenth century,\na famous duel was ordered by the Parliament of Paris. The Sieur de\nCarrouges being absent in the Holy Land, his lady was violated by the\nSieur Legris. Carrouges, on his return, challenged Legris to mortal\ncombat, for the twofold crime of violation and slander, inasmuch as he\nhad denied his guilt, by asserting that the lady was a willing party.\nThe lady's asseverations of innocence were held to be no evidence by the\nParliament, and the duel was commanded with all the ceremonies. \"On\nthe day appointed,\" says Brantome, [Memoires de Brantome touchant les\nDuels.] \"the lady came to witness the spectacle in her chariot; but the\nKing made her descend, judging her unworthy, because she was criminal in\nhis eyes till her innocence was proved, and caused her to stand upon\na scaffold to await the mercy of God and this judgment by the battle.\nAfter a short struggle, the Sieur de Carrouges overthrew his enemy, and\nmade him confess both the rape and the slander. He was then taken to the\ngallows and hanged in the presence of the multitude; while the innocence\nof the lady was proclaimed by the heralds, and recognized by her\nhusband, the King, and all the spectators.\"\n\nNumerous battles, of a similar description, constantly took place, until\nthe unfortunate issue of one encounter of the kind led the French King,\nHenry II, to declare solemnly, that he would never again permit any such\nencounter, whether it related to a civil or criminal case, or the honour\nof a gentleman.\n\nThis memorable combat was fought in the year 1547. Francois de Vivonne,\nLord of La Chataigneraie, and Guy de Chabot, Lord of Jarnac, had been\nfriends from their early youth, and were noted at the court of Francis\nI for the gallantry of their bearing and the magnificence of their\nretinue. Chataigneraie, who knew that his friend's means were not very\nample, asked him one day, in confidence, how it was that he contrived to\nbe so well provided? Jarnac replied, that his father had married a\nyoung and beautiful woman, who, loving the son far better than the sire,\nsupplied him with as much money as he desired. La Chataigneraie betrayed\nthe base secret to the Dauphin, the Dauphin to the King, the King to his\ncourtiers, and the courtiers to all their acquaintance. In a short time\nit reached the ears of the old Lord de Jarnac, who immediately sent for\nhis son, and demanded to know in what manner the report had originated,\nand whether he had been vile enough not only to carry on such a\nconnexion, but to boast of it? De Jarnac indignantly denied that he had\never said so, or given reason to the world to say so, and requested his\nfather to accompany him to court, and confront him with his accuser,\nthat he might see the manner in which he would confound him. They\nwent accordingly, and the younger De Jarnac, entering a room where the\nDauphin, La Chataigneraie, and several courtiers were present, exclaimed\naloud, \"That whoever had asserted, that he maintained a criminal\nconnexion with his mother-in-law, was a liar and a coward!\" Every eye\nwas turned to the Dauphin and La Chataigneraie, when the latter stood\nforward, and asserted, that De Jarnac had himself avowed that such was\nthe fact, and he would extort from his lips another confession of it. A\ncase like this could not be met or rebutted by any legal proof, and the\nroyal council ordered that it should be decided by single combat. The\nKing, however, set his face against the duel [Although Francis showed\nhimself in this case an enemy to duelling, yet, in his own case, he had\nnot the same objection. Every reader of history must remember his answer\nto the challenge of the Emperor Charles V. The Emperor wrote that he\nhad failed in his word, and that he would sustain their quarrel\nsingle-handed against him. Francis replied, that he lied--qu'il en avait\nmenti par la gorge, and that he was ready to meet him in single combat\nwhenever and wherever he pleased.] and forbade them both, under pain of\nhis high displeasure, to proceed any further in the matter. But Francis\ndied in the following year, and the Dauphin, now Henry II, who was\nhimself compromised, resolved that the combat should take place.\nThe lists were prepared in the court-yard of the chateau of St.\nGermain-en-Laye, and the 10th of July 1547 was appointed for the\nencounter. The cartels of the combatants, which are preserved in the\n\"Memoires de Castelnau,\" were as follow:--\n\n\"Cartel of Francois de Vivonne, Lord of La Chataigneraie.\n\n\"Sire,\n\n\"Having learned that Guy Chabot de Jarnac, being lately at Compeigne,\nasserted, that whoever had said that he boasted of having criminal\nintercourse with his mother-in-law, was wicked and a wretch,--I, Sire,\nwith your good-will and pleasure, do answer, that he has wickedly lied,\nand will lie as many times as he denies having said that which I affirm\nhe did say; for I repeat, that he told me several times, and boasted of\nit, that he had slept with his mother-in-law.\n\n\"Francois de Vivonne.\"\n\nTo this cartel De Jarnac replied:--\n\n\"Sire,\n\n\"With your good will and permission, I say, that Francois de Vivonne has\nlied in the imputation which he has cast upon me, and of which I spoke\nto you at Compeigne. I, therefore, entreat you, Sire, most humbly, that\nyou be pleased to grant us a fair field, that we may fight this battle\nto the death.\n\n\"Guy Chabot.\"\n\nThe preparations were conducted on a scale of the greatest magnificence,\nthe King having intimated his intention of being present. La\nChataigneraie made sure of the victory, and invited the King and a\nhundred and fifty of the principal personages of the court to sup with\nhim in the evening, after the battle, in a splendid tent, which he had\nprepared at the extremity of the lists. De Jarnac was not so confident,\nthough perhaps more desperate. At noon, on the day appointed, the\ncombatants met, and each took the customary oath, that he bore no charms\nor amulets about him, or made use of any magic, to aid him against\nhis antagonist. They then attacked each other, sword in hand. La\nChataigneraie was a strong, robust man, and over confident; De Jarnac\nwas nimble, supple, and prepared for the worst. The combat lasted for\nsome time doubtful, until De Jarnac, overpowered by the heavy blows\nof his opponent, covered his head with his shield, and, stooping\ndown, endeavoured to make amends by his agility for his deficiency of\nstrength. In this crouching posture he aimed two blows at the left thigh\nof La Chataigneraie, who had left it uncovered, that the motion of\nhis leg might not be impeded. Each blow was successful, and, amid the\nastonishment of all the spectators, and to the great regret of the King,\nLa Chataigneraie rolled over upon the sand. He seized his dagger, and\nmade a last effort to strike De Jarnac; but he was unable to support\nhimself, and fell powerless into the arms of the assistants. The\nofficers now interfered, and De Jarnac being declared the victor,\nfell down upon his knees, uncovered his head, and, clasping his hands\ntogether, exclaimed:--\"O Domine, non sum dignus!\" La Chataigneraie was\nso mortified by the result of the encounter, that he resolutely refused\nto have his wounds dressed. He tore off the bandages which the surgeons\napplied, and expired two days afterwards. Ever since that time, any sly\nand unforeseen attack has been called by the French a coup de Jarnac.\nHenry was so grieved at the loss of his favourite, that he made the\nsolemn oath already alluded to, that he would never again, so long as\nhe lived, permit a due]. Some writers have asserted, and among others,\nMezeraie, that he issued a royal edict forbidding them. This has been\ndoubted by others, and, as there appears no registry of the edict in\nany of the courts, it seems most probable that it was never issued.\nThis opinion is strengthened by the fact, that two years afterwards, the\ncouncil ordered another duel to be fought, with similar forms, but with\nless magnificence, on account of the inferior rank of the combatants.\nIt is not anywhere stated, that Henry interfered to prevent it,\nnotwithstanding his solemn oath; but that, on the contrary, he\nencouraged it, and appointed the Marshal de la Marque to see that it\nwas conducted according to the rules of chivalry. The disputants were\nFendille and D'Aguerre, two gentlemen of the household, who, quarrelling\nin the King's chamber, had proceeded from words to blows. The council,\nbeing informed of the matter, decreed that it could only be decided in\nthe lists. Marshal de la Marque, with the King's permission, appointed\nthe city of Sedan as the place of combat. Fendille, who was a bad\nswordsman, was anxious to avoid an encounter with D'Aguerre, who was\none of the most expert men of the age; but the council authoritatively\ncommanded that he should fight, or be degraded from all his honours.\nD'Aguerre appeared in the field attended by Francois de Vendome, Count\nde Chartres, while Fendille was accompanied by the Duke de Nevers.\nFendille appears to have been not only an inexpert swordsman, but a\nthorough coward; one who, like Cowley, might have heaped curses on the\nman,\n\n     \"-------(Death's factor sure), who brought\n     Dire swords into this peaceful world.\"\n\nOn the very first encounter he was thrown from his horse, and,\nconfessing on the ground all that his victor required of him, slunk away\nignominiously from the arena.\n\nOne is tempted to look upon the death of Henry II as a judgment upon\nhim for his perjury in the matter of duelling. In a grand tournament\ninstituted on the occasion of the marriage of his daughter, he broke\nseveral lances in encounters with some of the bravest knights of the\ntime. Ambitious of still further renown, he would not rest satisfied\nuntil he had also engaged the young Count de Montgomeri. He received a\nwound in the eye from the lance of this antagonist, and died from its\neffects shortly afterwards, in the forty-first year of his age.\n\nIn the succeeding reigns of Francis II, Charles IX, and Henry III, the\npractice of duelling increased to an alarming extent. Duels were not\nrare in the other countries of Europe at the same period; but in\nFrance they were so frequent, that historians, in speaking of that age,\ndesignate it as \"l'epoque de la fureur des duels.\" The Parliament\nof Paris endeavoured, as far as in its power lay, to discourage the\npractice. By a decree dated the 26th of June 1559, it declared all\npersons who should be present at duels, or aiding and abetting in them,\nto be rebels to the King, transgressors of the law, and disturbers of\nthe public peace.\n\nWhen Henry III was assassinated at St. Cloud, in 1589, a young\ngentleman, named L'isle Marivaut, who had been much beloved by him, took\nhis death so much to heart, that he resolved not to survive him. Not\nthinking suicide an honourable death, and wishing, as he said, to die\ngloriously in revenging his King and master, he publicly expressed his\nreadiness to fight anybody to the death who should assert that Henry's\nassassination was not a great misfortune to the community. Another\nyouth, of a fiery temper and tried courage, named Marolles, took him at\nhis word, and the day and place of the combat were forthwith appointed.\nWhen the hour had come, and all were ready, Marolles turned to his\nsecond, and asked whether his opponent had a casque or helmet only, or\nwhether he wore a sallade, or headpiece. Being answered a helmet only,\nhe said gaily, \"So much the better; for, sir, my second, you shall\nrepute me the wickedest man in all the world, if I do not thrust my\nlance right through the the middle of his head and kill him.\" Truth to\nsay, he did so at the very first onset, and the unhappy L'isle Marivaut\nexpired without a groan. Brantome, who relates this story, adds, that\nthe victor might have done as he pleased with the body, cut off the\nhead, dragged it out of the camp, or exposed it upon an ass, but that,\nbeing a wise and very courteous gentleman, he left it to the relatives\nof the deceased to be honourably buried, contenting himself with the\nglory of his triumph, by which he gained no little renown and honour\namong the ladies of Paris.\n\nOn the accession of Henry IV that monarch pretended to set his face\nagainst duelling; but such was the influence of early education and the\nprejudices of society upon him, that he never could find it in his\nheart to punish a man for this offence. He thought it tended to foster a\nwarlike spirit among his people. When the chivalrous Crequi demanded\nhis permission to fight Don Philippe de Savoire, he is reported to have\nsaid, \"Go, and if I were not a King, I would be your second.\" It is\nno wonder that when such were known to be the King's disposition, his\nedicts attracted but small attention. A calculation was made by M. de\nLomenie, in the year 1607, that since the accession of Henry, in 1589,\nno less than four thousand French gentlemen had lost their lives in\nthese conflicts, which, for the eighteen years, would have been at\nthe rate of four or five in a week, or eighteen per month! Sully, who\nreports this fact in his Memoirs, does not throw the slightest doubt\nupon its exactness, and adds, that it was chiefly owing to the facility\nand ill-advised good-nature of his royal master that the bad example\nhad so empoisoned the court, the city, and the whole country. This wise\nminister devoted much of his time and attention to the subject; for the\nrage, he says, was such as to cause him a thousand pangs, and the King\nalso. There was hardly a man moving in what was called good society,\nwho had not been engaged in a duel either as principal or second; and\nif there were such a man, his chief desire was to free himself from the\nimputation of non-duelling, by picking a quarrel with somebody. Sully\nconstantly wrote letters to the King, in which he prayed him to renew\nthe edicts against this barbarous custom, to aggravate the punishment\nagainst offenders, and never, in any instance, to grant a pardon, even\nto a person who had wounded another in a duel, much less to any one who\nhad taken away life. He also advised, that some sort of tribunal, or\ncourt of honour, should be established, to take cognizance of injurious\nand slanderous language, and of all such matters as usually led to\nduels; and that the justice to be administered by this court should be\nsufficiently prompt and severe to appease the complainant, and make the\noffender repent of his aggression.\n\nHenry, being so warmly pressed by his friend and minister, called\ntogether an extraordinary council in the gallery of the palace of\nFontainebleau, to take the matter into consideration. When all\nthe members were assembled, his Majesty requested that some person\nconversant with the subject would make a report to him on the origin,\nprogress, and different forms of the duel. Sully complacently remarks,\nthat none of the counsllors gave the King any great reason to felicitate\nthem on their erudition. In fact, they all remained silent. Sully held\nhis peace with the rest; but he looked so knowing, that the King turned\ntowards him, and said:--\"Great master! by your face I conjecture that\nyou know more of this matter than you would have us believe. I pray\nyou, and indeed I command, that you tell us what you think and what you\nknow.\" The coy minister refused, as he says, out of mere politeness to\nhis more ignorant colleagues; but, being again pressed by the King, he\nentered into a history of duelling both in ancient and modern times.\nHe has not preserved this history in his Memoirs; and, as none of the\nministers or counsellors present thought proper to do so, the world is\ndeprived of a discourse which was, no doubt, a learned and remarkable\none. The result was, that a royal edict was issued, which Sully lost\nno time in transmitting to the most distant provinces, with a distinct\nnotification to all parties concerned that the King was in earnest, and\nwould exert the full rigour of the law in punishment of the offenders.\nSully himself does not inform us what were the provisions of the new\nlaw; but Father Matthias has been more explicit, and from him we learn,\nthat the Marshals of France were created judges of a court of chivalry,\nfor the hearing of all causes wherein the honour of a noble or gentleman\nwas concerned, and that such as resorted to duelling should be punished\nby death and confiscation of property, and that the seconds and\nassistants should lose their rank, dignity, or offices, and be banished\nfrom the court of their sovereign. [Le Pere Matthias, tome ii. livre\niv.]\n\nBut so strong a hold had the education and prejudice of his age upon\nthe mind of the King, that though his reason condemned, his sympathies\napproved the duel. Notwithstanding this threatened severity, the number\nof duels did not diminish, and the wise Sully had still to lament the\nprevalence of an evil which menaced society with utter disorganization.\nIn the succeeding reign the practice prevailed, if possible, to a still\ngreater extent, until the Cardinal de Richelieu, better able to grapple\nwith it than Sully had been, made some severe examples in the very\nhighest classes. Lord Herbert, the English ambassador at the court\nof Louis XIII repeats, in his letters, an observation that had been\npreviously made in the reign of Henry IV, that it was rare to find a\nFrenchman moving in good society who had not killed his man in a duel.\nThe Abbe Millot says of this period, that the duel madness made the most\nterrible ravages. Men had actually a frenzy for combatting. Caprice and\nvanity, as well as the excitement of passion, imposed the necessity\nof fighting. Friends were obliged to enter into the quarrels of their\nfriends, or be themselves called out for their refusal, and revenge\nbecame hereditary in many families. It was reckoned that in twenty years\neight thousand letters of pardon had been issued to persons who had\nkilled others in single combat. [\"Elemens de l'Histoire de France, vol.\niii. p. 219.]\n\nOther writers confirm this statement. Amelot de Houssaye, in his\nMemoirs, says, upon this subject, that duels were so common in the first\nyears of the reign of Louis XIII, that the ordinary conversation of\npersons when they met in the morning was, \"Do you know who fought\nyesterday?\" and after dinner, \"Do you know who fought this morning?\" The\nmost infamous duellist at that period was De Bouteville. It was not at\nall necessary to quarrel with this assassin to be forced to fight a duel\nwith him. When he heard that any one was very brave, he would go to\nhim, and say, \"People tell me that you are brave; you and I must fight\ntogether!\" Every morning the most notorious bravos and duellists used\nto assemble at his house, to take a breakfast of bread and wine, and\npractise fencing. M. de Valencay, who was afterwards elevated to the\nrank of a cardinal, ranked very high in the estimation of De Bouteville\nand his gang. Hardly a day passed but what he was engaged in some duel\nor other, either as principal or second; and he once challenged De\nBouteville himself, his best friend, because De Bouteville had fought\na duel without inviting him to become his second. This quarrel was only\nappeased on the promise of De Bouteville that, in his next encounter,\nhe would not fail to avail himself of his services. For that purpose he\nwent out the same day, and picked a quarrel with the Marquis des Portes.\nM. de Valencay, according to agreement, had the pleasure of serving as\nhis second, and of running through the body M. de Cavois, the second\nof the Marquis des Portes, a man who had never done him any injury, and\nwhom he afterwards acknowledged he had never seen before.\n\nCardinal Richelieu devoted much attention to this lamentable state of\npublic morals, and seems to have concurred with his great predecessor,\nSully, that nothing but the most rigorous severity could put a stop\nto the evil. The subject indeed was painfully forced upon him by his\nenemies. The Marquis de Themines, to whom Richelieu, then Bishop of\nLucon, had given offence by some representations he had made to Mary of\nMedicis, determined, since he could not challenge an ecclesiastic,\nto challenge his brother. An opportunity was soon found. Themines,\naccosting the Marquis de Richelieu, complained, in an insulting tone,\nthat the Bishop of Lucon had broken his faith. The Marquis resented both\nthe manner and matter of his speech, and readily accepted a challenge.\nThey met in the Rue d'Angouleme, and the unfortunate Richelieu was\nstabbed to the heart, and instantly expired. From that moment the\nBishop became the steady foe of the practice of duelling. Reason and the\nimpulse of brotherly love alike combined to make him detest it, and\nwhen his power in France was firmly established, he set vigorously\nabout repressing it. In his \"Testament Politique,\" he has collected his\nthoughts upon the subject, in the chapter entitled \"Des moyens d'arreter\nles Duels.\" In spite of the edicts that he published, the members of\nthe nobility persisted in fighting upon the most trivial and absurd\npretences. At last Richelieu made a terrible example. The infamous De\nBouteville challenged and fought the Marquis de Beuoron; and, although\nthe duel itself was not fatal to either, its consequences were fatal to\nboth. High as they were, Richelieu resolved that the law should reach\nthem, and they were both tried, found guilty, and beheaded. Thus did\nsociety get rid of one of the most bloodthirsty scoundrels that ever\npolluted it.\n\nIn 1632 two noblemen fought a duel, in which they were both killed. The\nofficers of justice had notice of the breach of the law, and arrived at\nthe scene of combat before the friends of the parties had time to remove\nthe bodies. In conformity with the Cardinal's severe code upon the\nsubject, the bodies were ignominiously stripped, and hanged upon a\ngallows, with their heads downwards, for several hours, within sight of\nall the people. [Mercure de France, vol. xiii.] This severity sobered\nthe frenzy of the nation for a time; but it was soon forgotten. Men's\nminds were too deeply imbued with a false notion of honour to be\nbrought to a right way of thinking: by such examples, however striking,\nRichelieu was unable to persuade them to walk in the right path, though\nhe could punish them for choosing the wrong one. He had, with all his\nacuteness, miscalculated the spirit of duelling. It was not death that\na duellist feared: it was shame, and the contempt of his fellows. As\nAddison remarked more than eighty years afterwards, \"Death was not\nsufficient to deter men who made it their glory to despise it; but\nif every one who fought a duel were to stand in the pillory, it would\nquickly diminish the number of those imaginary men of honour, and put an\nend to so absurd a practice.\" Richelieu never thought of this.\n\nSully says, that in his time the Germans were also much addicted to\nduelling. There were three places where it was legal to fight; Witzburg,\nin Franconia, and Uspach and Halle, in Swabia. Thither, of course, vast\nnumbers repaired, and murdered each other under sanction of the law. At\nan earlier period, in Germany, it was held highly disgraceful to refuse\nto fight. Any one who surrendered to his adversary for a simple wound\nthat did not disable him, was reputed infamous, and could neither cut\nhis beard, bear arms, mount on horseback, or hold any Office in the\nstate. He who fell in a duel was buried with great pomp and splendour.\n\nIn the year 1652, just after Louis XIV had attained his majority, a\ndesperate duel was fought between the Dukes de Beaufort and De Nemours,\neach attended by four gentlemen. Although brothers-in-law, they had\nlong been enemies, and their constant dissensions had introduced much\ndisorganization among the troops which they severally commanded. Each\nhad long sought an opportunity for combat, which at last arose on a\nmisunderstanding relative to the places they were to occupy at the\ncouncil board. They fought with pistols, and, at the first discharge,\nthe Duke de Nemours was shot through the body, and almost instantly\nexpired. Upon this the Marquis de Villars, who seconded Nemours,\nchallenged Hericourt, the second of the Duke de Beaufort, a man whom\nhe had never before seen; and the challenge being accepted, they fought\neven more desperately than their principals. This combat, being with\nswords, lasted longer than the first, and was more exciting to the six\nremaining gentlemen who stayed to witness it. The result was fatal to\nHericourt, who fell pierced to the heart by the sword of De Villars.\nAnything more savage than this can hardly be imagined. Voltaire\nsays such duels were frequent, and the compiler of the \"Dictionnaire\nd'Anecdotes\" informs us, that the number of seconds was not fixed. As\nmany as ten, or twelve, or twenty, were not unfrequent, and they often\nfought together after their principals were disabled. The highest mark\nof friendship one man could manifest towards another, was to choose him\nfor his second; and many gentlemen were so desirous of serving in this\ncapacity, that they endeavoured to raise every slight misunderstanding\ninto a quarrel, that they might have the pleasure of being engaged\nin it. The Count de Bussy Rabutin relates an instance of this in his\nMemoirs. He says, that as he was one evening coming out of the theatre,\na gentleman, named Bruc, whom he had not before known, stopped him very\npolitely, and, drawing him aside, asked him if it was true that the\nCount de Thianges had called him (Bruc) a drunkard? Bussy replied, that\nhe really did not know, for he saw the Count very seldom. \"Oh! he is\nyour uncle!\" replied Bruc; \"and, as I cannot have satisfaction from him,\nbecause he lives so far off in the country, I apply to you.\" \"I see what\nyou are at,\" replied Bussy, \"and, since you wish to put me in my uncle's\nplace, I answer, that whoever asserted that he called you a drunkard,\ntold a lie!\" \"My brother said so,\" replied Bruc, \"and he is a child.\"\n\"Horsewhip him, then, for his falsehood,\" returned De Bussy. \"I will\nnot have my brother called a liar,\" returned Bruc, determined to quarrel\nwith him; \"so draw, and defend yourself!\" They both drew their swords\nin the public street, but were separated by the spectators. They agreed,\nhowever, to fight on a future occasion, and with all regular forms of\nthe duello. A few days afterwards, a gentleman, whom De Bussy had never\nbefore seen, and whom he did not know, even by name, called upon him,\nand asked if he might have the privilege of serving as his second. He\nadded, that he neither knew him nor Bruc, except by reputation, but,\nhaving made up his mind to be second to one of them, he had decided upon\naccompanying De Bussy as the braver man of the two. De Bussy thanked him\nvery sincerely for his politeness, but begged to be excused, as he had\nalready engaged four seconds to accompany him, and he was afraid that if\nhe took any more, the affair would become a battle instead of a duel.\n\nWhen such quarrels as these were looked upon as mere matters of course,\nthe state of society must have been indeed awful. Louis XIV very early\nsaw the evil, and as early determined to remedy it. It was not, however,\ntill the year 1679, when he instituted the \"Chambre Ardente,\" for the\ntrial of the slow poisoners and pretenders to sorcery, that he\npublished any edict against duelling. In that year his famous edict was\npromulgated, in which he reiterated and confirmed the severe enactments\nof his predecessors, Henry IV and Louis XIII, and expressed his\ndetermination never to pardon any offender. By this celebrated ordinance\na supreme court of honour was established, composed of the Marshals of\nFrance. They were bound, on taking the office, to give to every one who\nbrought a well-founded complaint before them, such reparation as would\nsatisfy the justice of the case. Should any gentleman against whom\ncomplaint was made refuse to obey the mandate of the court of honour,\nhe might be punished by fine and imprisonment; and when that was not\npossible, by reason of his absenting himself from the kingdom, his\nestates might be confiscated till his return.\n\nEvery man who sent a challenge, be the cause of offence what it might,\nwas deprived of all redress from the court of honour--suspended\nthree years from the exercise of any office in the state--was further\nimprisoned for two years, and sentenced to pay a fine of half his yearly\nincome. He who accepted a challenge, was subject to the same punishment.\nAny servant, or other person, who knowingly became the bearer of a\nchallenge, was, if found guilty, sentenced to stand in the pillory and\nbe publicly whipped for the first offence, and for the second, sent for\nthree years to the galleys.\n\nAny person who actually fought, was to be held guilty of murder, even\nthough death did not ensue, and was to be punished accordingly. Persons\nin the higher ranks of life were to be beheaded, and those of the middle\nclass hanged upon a gallows, and their bodies refused Christian burial.\n\nAt the same time that Louis published this severe edict, he exacted a\npromise from his principal nobility that they would never engage in a\nduel on any pretence whatever. He never swerved from his resolution to\npursue all duellists with the utmost rigour, and many were executed in\nvarious parts of the country. A slight abatement of the evil was the\nconsequence, and in the course of a few years one duel was not\nfought where twelve had been fought previously. A medal was struck to\ncommemorate the circumstance, by the express command of the King. So\nmuch had he this object at heart, that, in his will, he particularly\nrecommended to his successor the care of his edict against duelling, and\nwarned him against any ill-judged lenity to those who disobeyed it. A\nsingular law formerly existed in Malta with regard to duelling. By this\nlaw it was permitted, but only upon condition that the parties should\nfight in one particular street. If they presumed to settle their quarrel\nelsewhere, they were held guilty of murder, and punished accordingly.\nWhat was also very singular, they were bound, under heavy penalties, to\nput up their swords when requested to do so by a priest, a knight, or\na woman. It does not appear, however, that the ladies or the knights\nexercised this mild and beneficent privilege to any great extent; the\nformer were too often themselves the cause of duels, and the latter\nsympathised too much in the wounded honour of the combatants to attempt\nto separate them. The priests alone were the great peacemakers. Brydone\nsays, that a cross was always painted on the wall opposite to the spot\nwhere a knight had been killed, and that in the \"street of duels\" he\ncounted about twenty of them. [Brydone's \"Tour in Malta.\" 1772.]\n\nIn England the private duel was also practised to a scandalous extent,\ntowards the end of the sixteenth and beginning of the seventeenth\ncenturies. The judicial combat now began to be more rare, but several\ninstances of it are mentioned in history. One was instituted in the\nreign of Elizabeth, and another so late as the time of Charles I. Sir\nHenry Spelman gives an account of that which took place in Elizabeth's\nreign, which is curious, perhaps the more so when we consider that it\nwas perfectly legal, and that similar combats remained so till the year\n1819. A proceeding having been instituted in the Court of Common Pleas\nfor the recovery of certain manorial rights in the county of Kent,\nthe defendant offered to prove by single combat his right to retain\npossession. The plaintiff accepted the challenge, and the Court having\nno power to stay the proceedings, agreed to the champions who were to\nfight in lieu of the principals. The Queen commanded the parties to\ncompromise; but it being represented to Her Majesty that they were\njustified by law in the course they were pursuing, she allowed them to\nproceed. On the day appointed, the Justices of the Common Pleas, and all\nthe council engaged in the cause, appeared as umpires of the combat,\nat a place in Tothill-fields, where the lists had been prepared. The\nchampions were ready for the encounter, and the plaintiff and defendant\nwere publicly called to come forward and acknowledge them. The\ndefendant answered to his name, and recognised his champion with the due\nformalities, but the plaintiff did not appear. Without his presence\nand authority the combat could not take place; and his absence being\nconsidered an abandonment of his claim, he was declared to be nonsuited,\nand barred for ever from renewing his suit before any other tribunal\nwhatever.\n\nThe Queen appears to have disapproved personally of this mode of\nsettling a disputed claim, but her judges and legal advisers made no\nattempt to alter the barbarous law. The practice of private duelling\nexcited more indignation, from its being of every-day occurrence. In the\ntime of James I the English were so infected with the French madness,\nthat Bacon, when he was Attorney-general, lent the aid of his powerful\neloquence to effect a reformation of the evil. Informations were\nexhibited in the Star Chamber against two persons, named Priest and\nWright, for being engaged, as principal and second, in a duel, on which\noccasion he delivered a charge that was so highly approved of by the\nLords of the Council, that they ordered it to be printed and circulated\nover the country, as a thing \"very meet and worthy to be remembered\nand made known unto the world.\" He began by considering the nature\nand greatness of the mischief of duelling. \"It troubleth peace--it\ndisfurnisheth war--it bringeth calamity upon private men, peril upon\nthe state, and contempt upon the law. Touching the causes of it,\"\nhe observed, \"that the first motive of it, no doubt, is a false and\nerroneous imagination of honour and credit; but then, the seed of this\nmischief being such, it is nourished by vain discourses and green and\nunripe conceits. Hereunto may be added, that men have almost lost the\ntrue notion and understanding of fortitude and valour. For fortitude\ndistinguisheth of the grounds of quarrel whether they be just; and not\nonly so, but whether they be worthy, and setteth a better price upon\nmen's lives than to bestow them idly. Nay, it is weakness and disesteem\nof a man's self to put a man's life upon such liedger performances.\nA man's life is not to be trifled with: it is to be offered up and\nsacrificed to honourable services, public merits, good causes, and noble\nadventures. It is in expense of blood as it is in expense of money. It\nis no liberality to make a profusion of money upon every vain occasion,\nneither is it fortitude to make effusion of blood, except the cause of\nit be worth.\" [See \"Life and Character of Lord Bacon,\" by Thomas Martin,\nBarrister-at-law.]\n\nThe most remarkable event connected with duelling in this reign was\nthat between Lord Sanquir, a Scotch nobleman, and one Turner, a\nfencing-master. In a trial of skill between them, his lordship's eye was\naccidentally thrust out by the point of Turner's sword. Turner expressed\ngreat regret at the circumstance, and Lord Sanquir bore his loss with as\nmuch philosophy as he was master of, and forgave his antagonist. Three\nyears afterwards, Lord Sanquir was at Paris, where he was a\nconstant visitor at the court of Henry IV. One day, in the course of\nconversation, the affable monarch inquired how he had lost his eye.\nSanquir, who prided himself on being the most expert swordsman of the\nage, blushed as he replied that it was inflicted by the sword of\na fencing-master. Henry, forgetting his assumed character of an\nantiduellist, carelessly, and as a mere matter of course, inquired\nwhether the man lived? Nothing more was said, but the query sank\ndeep into the proud heart of the Scotch baron, who returned shortly\nafterwards to England, burning for revenge. His first intent was\nto challenge the fencing-master to single combat, but, on further\nconsideration, he deemed it inconsistent with his dignity to meet him as\nan equal in fair and open fight. He therefore hired two bravos, who\nset upon the fencing-master, and murdered him in his own house at\nWhitefriars. The assassins were taken and executed, and a reward of one\nthousand pounds offered for the apprehension of their employer. Lord\nSanquir concealed himself for several days, and then surrendered to\ntake his trial, in the hope (happily false) that Justice would belie her\nname, and be lenient to a murderer because he was a nobleman, who, on\na false point of honour, had thought fit to take revenge into his own\nhands. The most powerful intercessions were employed in his favour, but\nJames, to his credit, was deaf to them all. Bacon, in his character of\nAttorney-general, prosecuted the prisoner to conviction; and he died the\nfelon's death, on the 29th of June, 1612, on a gibbet erected in front\nof the gate of Westminster Hall.\n\nWith regard to the public duel, or trial by battle, demanded under the\nsanction of the law, to terminate a quarrel which the ordinary course of\njustice could with difficulty decide, Bacon was equally opposed to it,\nand thought that in no case should it be granted. He suggested that\nthere should be declared a constant and settled resolution in the state\nto abolish it altogether; that care should be taken that the evil be\nno more cockered, nor the humour of it fed, but that all persons found\nguilty should be rigorously punished by the Star Chamber, and these of\neminent quality banished from the court.\n\nIn the succeeding reign, when Donald Mackay, the first Lord Reay,\naccused David Ramsay of treason, in being concerned with the Marquis of\nHamilton in a design upon the crown of Scotland, he was challenged by\nthe latter to make good his assertion by single combat. [See \"History\nof the House and Clan of Mackay.\"] It had been at first the intention of\nthe government to try the case by the common law, but Ramsay thought he\nwould stand a better chance of escape by recurring to the old and almost\nexploded custom, but which was still the right of every man in appeals\nof treason. Lord Reay readily accepted the challenge, and both were\nconfined in the Tower until they found security that they would appear\non a certain day, appointed by the court, to determine the question.\nThe management of the affair was delegated to the Marischal Court of\nWestminster, and the Earl of Lindsay was created Lord Constable of\nEngland for the purpose. Shortly before the day appointed, Ramsay\nconfessed in substance all that Lord Reay had laid to his charge, upon\nwhich Charles I put a stop to the proceedings.\n\nBut in England, about this period, sterner disputes arose among men\nthan those mere individual matters which generate duels. The men of\nthe Commonwealth encouraged no practice of the kind, and the subdued\naristocracy carried their habits and prejudices elsewhere, and fought\ntheir duels at foreign courts. Cromwell's Parliament, however,--although\nthe evil at that time was not so crying,--published an order, in 1654,\nfor the prevention of duels, and the punishment of all con cerned in\nthem. Charles II, on his restoration, also issued a proclamation upon\nthe subject. In his reign an infamous duel was fought--infamous, not\nonly from its own circumstances, but from the lenity that was shown to\nthe principal offenders.\n\nThe worthless Duke of Buckingham, having debauched the Countess of\nShrewsbury, was challenged by her husband to mortal combat, in January\n1668. Charles II endeavoured to prevent the duel, not from any regard\nto public morality, but from fear for the life of his favourite. He gave\ncommands to the Duke of Albemarle to confine Buckingham to his house,\nor take some other measures to prevent him flora fighting. Albemarle\nneglected the order, thinking that the King himself might prevent the\ncombat by some surer means. The meeting took place at Barn Elms, the\ninjured Shrewsbury being attended by Sir John Talbot, his relative,\nand Lord Bernard Howard, son of the Earl of Arundel. Buckingham was\naccompanied by two of his dependants, Captain Holmes and Sir John\nJenkins. According to the barbarous custom of the age, not only the\nprincipals, but the seconds, engaged each other. Jenkins was pierced to\nthe heart, and left dead upon the field, and Sir John Talbot severely\nwounded in both arms. Buckingham himself escaping with slight wounds,\nran his unfortunate antagonist through the body, and then left the field\nwith the wretched woman, the cause of all the mischief, who, in the\ndress of a page, awaited the issue of the conflict in a neighbouring\nwood, holding her paramour's horse to avoid suspicion. Great influence\nwas exerted to save the guilty parties from punishment, and the master,\nas base as the favourite, made little difficulty in granting a free\npardon to all concerned. In a royal proclamation issued shortly\nafterwards, Charles II formally pardoned the murderers, but declared his\nintention never to extend, in future, any mercy to such offenders. It\nwould be hard after this to say who was the most infamous, the King, the\nfavourite, or the courtezan.\n\nIn the reign of Queen Anne, repeated complaints were made of the\nprevalence of duelling. Addison, Swift, Steele, and other writers,\nemployed their powerful pens in reprobation of it. Steele especially,\nin the \"Tatler\" and \"Guardian,\" exposed its impiety and absurdity, and\nendeavoured, both by argument and by ridicule, to bring his countrymen\nto a right way of thinking. [See \"Spectator,\" Nos. 84. 97, and 99; and\n\"Tatler,\" Nos. 25, 26, 29, 31, 38, and 39; and \"Guardian,\" No. 20.] His\ncomedy of \"The Conscious Lovers\" contains an admirable exposure of the\nabuse of the word honour, which led men into an error so lamentable.\nSwift, writing upon the subject, remarked that he could see no harm in\nrogues and fools shooting each other. Addison and Steele took higher\nground, and the latter, in the \"Guardian,\" summed up nearly all that\ncould be said upon the subject in the following impressive words:--\"A\nChristian and a gentleman are made inconsistent appellations of the\nsame person. You are not to expect eternal life if you do not forgive\ninjuries, and your mortal life is rendered uncomfortable if you are not\nready to commit a murder in resentment of an affront; for good sense,\nas well as religion, is so utterly banished the world that men glory in\ntheir very passions, and pursue trifles with the utmost vengeance, so\nlittle do they know that to forgive is the most arduous pitch human\nnature can arrive at. A coward has often fought--a coward has often\nconquered, but a coward never forgave.\" Steele also published a\npamphlet, in which he gave a detailed account of the edict of Louis XIV,\nand the measures taken by that monarch to cure his subjects of their\nmurderous folly.\n\nOn the 8th of May, 1711, Sir Cholmely Deering, M.P. for the county of\nKent, was slain in a duel by Mr. Richard Thornhill, also a member of\nthe House of Commons. Three days afterwards, Sir Peter King brought\nthe subject under the notice of the Legislature, and after dwelling at\nconsiderable length on the alarming increase of the practice, obtained\nleave to bring in a bill for the prevention and punishment of duelling.\nIt was read a first time that day, and ordered for a second reading in\nthe ensuing week.\n\nAbout the same time the attention of the Upper House of Parliament was\nalso drawn to the subject in the most painful manner. Two of its\nmost noted members would have fought, had it not been that Queen Anne\nreceived notice of their intention, and exacted a pledge that they would\ndesist; while a few months afterwards, two other of its members lost\ntheir lives in one of the most remarkable duels upon record. The first\naffair, which happily terminated without a meeting, was between the Duke\nof Marlborough and the Earl Pawlet. The latter, and fatal encounter, was\nbetween the Duke of Hamilton and Lord Mohun.\n\nThe first arose out of a debate in the Lords upon the conduct of the\nDuke of Ormond, in refusing to hazard a general engagement with the\nenemy, in which Earl Pawlet remarked that nobody could doubt the courage\nof the Duke of Ormond. \"He was not like a certain general, who led\ntroops to the slaughter, to cause great numbers of officers to be\nknocked on the head in a battle, or against stone walls, in order to\nfill his pockets by disposing of their commissions.\" Every one felt that\nthe remark was aimed at the Duke of Marlborough, but he remained silent,\nthough evidently suffering in mind. Soon after the House broke up, the\nEarl Pawlet received a visit from Lord Mohun, who told him that the Duke\nof Marlborough was anxious to come to an explanation with him relative\nto some expressions he had made use of in that day's debate, and\ntherefore prayed him to \"go and take a little air in the country.\" Earl\nPawlet did not affect to misunderstand the hint, but asked him in plain\nterms whether he brought a challenge from the Duke. Lord Mohun said his\nmessage needed no explanation, and that he (Lord Mohun) would accompany\nthe Duke of Marlborough. He then took his leave, and Earl Pawlet\nreturned home and told his lady that he was going out to fight a duel\nwith the Duke of Marlborough. His lady, alarmed for her lord's safety,\ngave notice of his intention to the Earl of Dartmouth, who immediately,\nin the Queen's name, sent to the Duke of Marlborough, and commanded him\nnot to stir abroad. He also caused Earl Pawlet's house to be guarded by\ntwo sentinels; and having taken these precautions, informed the Queen of\nthe whole affair. Her Majesty sent at once for the Duke, expressed her\nabhorrence of the custom of duelling, and required his word of honour\nthat he would proceed no further. The Duke pledged his word accordingly,\nand the affair terminated.\n\nThe lamentable duel between the Duke of Hamilton and Lord Mohun took\nplace in November 1712, and sprang from the following circumstances. A\nlawsuit had been pending for eleven years between these two noblemen,\nand they looked upon each other in consequence with a certain degree of\ncoldness. They met together on the 13th of November in the chambers of\nMr. Orlebar, a Master in Chancery, when, in the course of conversation,\nthe Duke of Hamilton reflected upon the conduct of one of the witnesses\nin the cause, saying that he was a person who had neither truth nor\njustice in him. Lord Mohun, somewhat nettled at this remark, applied\nto a witness favourable to his side, made answer hastily, that Mr.\nWhiteworth, the person alluded to, had quite as much truth and justice\nin him as the Duke of Hamilton. The Duke made no reply, and no one\npresent imagined that he took offence at what was said; and when he went\nout, of the room, he made a low and courteous salute to the Lord Mohun.\nIn the evening, General Macartney called twice upon the Duke with a\nchallenge from Lord Mohun, and failing in seeing him, sought him a third\ntime at a tavern, where he found him, and delivered his message. The\nDuke accepted the challenge, and the day after the morrow, which was\nSunday, the 15th of November, at seven in the morning, was appointed for\nthe meeting.\n\nAt that hour they assembled in Hyde Park, the Duke being attended by\nhis relative, Colonel Hamilton, and the Lord Mohun by General Macartney.\nThey jumped over a ditch into a place called the Nursery, and prepared\nfor the combat. The Duke of Hamilton, turning to General Macartney,\nsaid, \"Sir, you are the cause of this, let the event be what it will.\"\nLord Mohun did not wish that the seconds should engage, but the Duke\ninsisted that \"Macartney should have a share in the dance.\" All being\nready, the two principals took up their positions, and fought with\nswords so desperately that, after a short time, they both fell down,\nmortally wounded. The Lord Mohun expired upon the spot, and the Duke of\nHamilton in the arms of his servants as they were carrying him to his\ncoach.\n\nThis unhappy termination caused the greatest excitement, not only in the\nmetropolis, but all over the country. The Tories, grieved at the loss of\nthe Duke of Hamilton, charged the fatal combat on the Whig party, whose\nleader, the Duke of Marlborough, had so recently set the example of\npolitical duels. They called Lord Mohun the bully of the Whig faction,\n(he had already killed three men in duels, and been twice tried for\nmurder), and asserted openly, that the quarrel was concocted between him\nand General Macartney to rob the country of the services of the Duke of\nHamilton by murdering him. It was also asserted, that the wound of which\nthe Duke died was not inflicted by Lord Mohun, but by Macartney; and\nevery means was used to propagate this belief. Colonel Hamilton, against\nwhom and Macartney the coroner's jury had returned a verdict of wilful\nmurder, surrendered a few days afterwards, and was examined before a\nprivy council sitting at the house of Lord Dartmouth. He then deposed,\nthat seeing Lord Mohun fall, and the Duke upon him, he ran to the Duke's\nassistance, and that he might with the more ease help him, he flung down\nboth their swords, and, as he was raising the Duke up, he saw Macartney,\nmake a push at him. Upon this deposition a royal proclamation was\nimmediately issued, offering a reward of 500 pounds for the apprehension\nof Macartney, to which the Duchess of Hamilton afterwards added a reward\nof 300 pounds.\n\nUpon the further examination of Colonel Hamilton, it was found that\nreliance could not be placed on all his statements, and that he\ncontradicted himself in several important particulars. He was arraigned\nat the Old Bailey for the murder of Lord Mohun, the whole political\ncircles of London being in a fever of excitement for the result. All the\nTory party prayed for his acquittal, and a Tory mob surrounded the\ndoors and all the avenues leading to the court of justice for many hours\nbefore the trial began. The examination of witnesses lasted seven hours.\nThe criminal still persisted in accusing General Macartney of the murder\nof the Duke of Hamilton, but, in other respects, say the newspapers of\nthe day, prevaricated foully. He was found guilty of manslaughter. This\nfavourable verdict was received with universal applause, \"not only from\nthe court and all the gentlemen present, but the common people showed a\nmighty satisfaction, which they testified by loud and repeated huzzas.\"\n[\"Post Boy,\" December l3th, 1712.]\n\nAs the popular delirium subsided, and men began to reason coolly upon\nthe subject, they disbelieved the assertions of Colonel Hamilton, that\nMacartney had stabbed the Duke, although it was universally admitted\nthat he had been much too busy and presuming. Hamilton was shunned by\nall his former companions, and his life rendered so irksome to him, that\nhe sold out of the Guards, and retired to private life, in which he died\nheart-broken four years afterwards.\n\nGeneral Macartney surrendered about the same time, and was tried for\nmurder in the Court of King's Bench. He was, however, found guilty of\nmanslaughter only.\n\nAt the opening of the session of Parliament of 1713, the Queen made\npointed allusion in her speech to the frequency of duelling, and\nrecommended to the Legislature to devise some speedy and effectual\nremedy for it. A bill to that effect was brought forward, but thrown\nout on the second reading, to the very great regret of all the sensible\nportion of the community.\n\nA famous duel was fought in 1765 between Lord Byron and Mr. Chaworth.\nThe dispute arose at a club-dinner, and was relative to which of the two\nhad the largest quantity of game on his estates. Infuriated by wine and\npassion, they retired instantly into an adjoining room, and fought with\nswords across a table, by the feeble glimmer of a tallow-candle. Mr.\nChaworth, who was the more expert swordsman of the two, received a\nmortal wound, and shortly afterwards expired. Lord Byron was brought\nto trial for the murder before the House of Lords; and it appearing\nclearly, that the duel was not premeditated, but fought at once, and\nin the heat of passion, he was found guilty of manslaughter only, and\nordered to be discharged upon payment of his fees. This was a very bad\nexample for the country, and duelling of course fell into no disrepute\nafter such a verdict.\n\nIn France, more severity was exercised. In the year 1769, the Parliament\nof Grenoble took cognizance of the delinquency of the Sieur Duchelas,\none of its members, who challenged and killed in a duel a captain of the\nFlemish legion. The servant of Duchelas officiated as second, and was\narraigned with his master for the murder of the captain. They were both\nfound guilty. Duchelas was broken alive on the wheel, and the servant\ncondemned to the galleys for life.\n\nA barbarous and fiercely-contested duel was fought in November 1778,\nbetween two foreign adventurers, at Bath, named Count Rice and the\nVicomte du Barri. Some dispute arose relative to a gambling transaction,\nin the course of which Du Barri contradicted an assertion of the other,\nby saying, \"That is not true!\" Count Rice immediately asked him if he\nknew the very disagreeable meaning of the words he had employed. Du\nBarri said he was perfectly well aware of their meaning, and that Rice\nmight interpret them just as he pleased. A challenge was immediately\ngiven and accepted. Seconds were sent for, who, arriving with but little\ndelay, the whole party, though it was not long after midnight, proceeded\nto a place called Claverton Down, where they remained with a surgeon\nuntil daylight. They then prepared for the encounter, each being armed\nwith two pistols and a sword. The ground having been marked out by the\nseconds, Du Barri fired first, and wounded his opponent in the thigh.\nCount Rice then levelled his pistol, and shot Du Barri mortally in the\nbreast. So angry were the combatants, that they refused to desist; both\nstepped back a few paces, and then rushing forward, discharged their\nsecond pistols at each other. Neither shot took effect, and both\nthrowing away their pistols, prepared to finish the sanguinary struggle\nby the sword. They took their places, and were advancing towards each\nother, when the Vicomte du Barri suddenly staggered, grew pale, and,\nfalling to the ground, exclaimed, \"Je vous demande ma vie.\" His opponent\nhad but just time to answer, that he granted it, when the unfortunate\nDu Barri turned upon the grass, and expired with a heavy groan. The\nsurvivor of this savage conflict was then removed to his lodgings, where\nhe lay for some weeks in a dangerous state. The coroner's jury, in the\nmean while, sat upon the body of Du Barri, and disgraced themselves by\nreturning a verdict of manslaughter only. Count Rice, upon his recovery,\nwas indicted for the murder notwithstanding this verdict. On his trial\nhe entered into a long defence of his conduct, pleading the fairness\nof the duel, and its unpremeditated nature; and, at the same time,\nexpressing his deep regret for the unfortunate death of Du Barri,\nwith whom for many years he had been bound in ties of the strictest\nfriendship. These considerations appear to have weighed with the jury,\nand this fierce duellist was again found guilty of manslaughter only,\nand escaped with a merely nominal punishment.\n\nA duel, less remarkable from its circumstances, but more so from the\nrank of the parties, took place in 1789. The combatants on this occasion\nwere the Duke of York and Colonel Lenox, the nephew and heir of the Duke\nof Richmond. The cause of offence was given by the Duke of York, who had\nsaid, in presence of several officers of the Guards, that words had been\nused to Colonel Lenox at Daubigny's to which no gentleman ought to have\nsubmitted. Colonel Lenox went up to the Duke on parade, and asked\nhim publicly whether he had made such an assertion. The Duke of York,\nwithout answering his question, coldly ordered him to his post. When\nparade was over, he took an opportunity of saying publicly in the\norderly room before Colonel Lenox, that he desired no protection from\nhis rank as a prince and his station as commanding officer; adding\nthat, when he was off duty, he wore a plain brown coat like a private\ngentleman, and was ready as such to give satisfaction. Colonel Lenox\ndesired nothing better than satisfaction; that is to say, to run the\nchance of shooting the Duke through the body, or being himself shot.\nHe accordingly challenged his Royal Highness, and they met on Wimbledon\nCommon. Colonel Lenox fired first, and the ball whizzed past the head\nof his opponent, so near to it as to graze his projecting curl. The\nDuke refused to return the fire, and the seconds interfering, the affair\nterminated.\n\nColonel Lenox was very shortly afterwards engaged in another duel\narising out of this. A Mr. Swift wrote a pamphlet in reference to the\ndispute between him and the Duke of York, at some expressions in which\nhe took so much offence, as to imagine that nothing but a shot at the\nwriter could atone for them. They met on the Uxbridge Road, but no\ndamage was done to either party.\n\nThe Irish were for a long time renowned for their love of duelling. The\nslightest offence which it is possible to imagine that one man could\noffer to another, was sufficient to provoke a challenge. Sir Jonah\nBarrington relates, in his Memoirs, that, previous to the Union, during\nthe time of a disputed election in Dublin, it was no unusual thing for\nthree-and-twenty duels to be fought in a day. Even in times of less\nexcitement, they were so common as to be deemed unworthy of note by the\nregular chroniclers of events, except in cases where one or both of the\ncombatants were killed.\n\nIn those days, in Ireland, it was not only the man of the military, but\nof every profession, who had to work his way to eminence with the sword\nor the pistol. Each political party had its regular corps of bullies, or\nfire-eaters, as they were called, who qualified themselves for being the\npests of society by spending all their spare time in firing at targets.\nThey boasted that they could hit an opponent in any part of his body\nthey pleased, and made up their minds before the encounter began whether\nthey should kill him, disable, or disfigure him for life--lay him on a\nbed of suffering for a twelve-month, or merely graze a limb.\n\nThe evil had reached an alarming height, when, in the year 1808, an\nopportunity was afforded to King George III of showing in a striking\nmanner his detestation of the practice, and of setting an example to\nthe Irish that such murders were not to be committed with impunity. A\ndispute arose, in the month of June 1807, between Major Campbell and\nCaptain Boyd, officers of the 21st regiment, stationed in Ireland, about\nthe proper manner of giving the word of command on parade. Hot words\nensued on this slight occasion, and the result was a challenge from\nCampbell to Boyd. They retired into the mess-room shortly afterwards,\nand each stationed himself at a corner, the distance obliquely being but\nseven paces. Here, without friends or seconds being present, they fired\nat each other, and Captain Boyd fell mortally wounded between the fourth\nand fifth ribs. A surgeon who came in shortly, found him sitting in a\nchair, vomiting and suffering great agony. He was led into another room,\nMajor Campbell following, in great distress and perturbation of mind.\nBoyd survived but eighteen hours; and just before his death, said, in\nreply to a question from his opponent, that the duel was not fair, and\nadded, \"You hurried me, Campbell--you're a bad man.\"----\"Good God!\"\nreplied Campbell, \"will you mention before these gentlemen, was not\neverything fair? Did you not say that you were ready?\" Boyd answered\nfaintly, \"Oh, no! you know I wanted you to wait and have friends.\" On\nbeing again asked whether all was fair, the dying man faintly murmured\n\"Yes:\" but in a minute after, he said, \"You're a bad man!\" Campbell\nwas now in great agitation, and wringing his hands convulsively, he\nexclaimed, \"Oh, Boyd! you are the happiest man of the two! Do you\nforgive me?\" Boyd replied, \"I forgive you--I feel for you, as I know you\ndo for me.\" He shortly afterwards expired, and Major Campbell made his\nescape from Ireland, and lived for some months with his family under\nan assumed name, in the neighbourhood of Chelsea. He was, however,\napprehended, and brought to trial at Armagh, in August 1808. He said\nwhile in prison, that, if found guilty of murder, he should suffer as an\nexample to duellists in Ireland; but he endeavoured to buoy himself up,\nwith the hope that the jury would only convict him of manslaughter.\nIt was proved in evidence upon the trial, that the duel was not fought\nimmediately after the offence was given, but that Major Campbell went\nhome and drank tea with his family, before he sought Boyd for the fatal\nencounter. The jury returned a verdict of wilful murder against him,\nbut recommended him to mercy on the ground that the duel had been a fair\none. He was condemned to die on the Monday following, but was afterwards\nrespited for a few days longer. In the mean time the greatest exertions\nwere made in his behalf. His unfortunate wife went upon her knees before\nthe Prince of Wales, to move him to use his influence with the King, in\nfavour of her unhappy husband. Everything a fond wife and a courageous\nwoman could do, she tried, to gain the royal clemency; but George III\nwas inflexible, in consequence of the representations of the Irish\nViceroy that an example was necessary. The law was therefore allowed\nto take its course, and the victim of a false spirit of honour died the\ndeath of a felon.\n\nThe most inveterate duellists of the present day are the students in the\nUniversities of Germany. They fight on the most frivolous pretences,\nand settle with swords and pistols the schoolboy disputes which in other\ncountries are arranged by the more harmless medium of the fisticuffs. It\nwas at one time the custom among these savage youths to prefer the sword\ncombat, for the facility it gave them of cutting off the noses of their\nopponents. To disfigure them in this manner was an object of ambition,\nand the German duellists reckoned the number of these disgusting\ntrophies which they had borne away, with as much satisfaction as a\nsuccessful general the provinces he had reduced or the cities he had\ntaken.\n\nBut it would be wearisome to enter into the minute detail of all the\nduels of modern times. If an examination were made into the general\ncauses which produced them, it would be found that in every case\nthey had been either of the most trivial or the most unworthy nature.\nParliamentary duels were at one time very common, and amongst the\nnames of those who have soiled a great reputation by conforming to the\npractice, may be mentioned those of Warren Hastings, Sir Philip Francis,\nWilkes, Pitt, Fox, Grattan, Curran, Tierney, and Canning. So difficult\nis it even for the superior mind to free itself from the trammels with\nwhich foolish opinion has enswathed it--not one of these celebrated\npersons who did not in his secret soul condemn the folly to which he\nlent himself. The bonds of reason, though iron-strong, are easily burst\nthrough; but those of folly, though lithe and frail as the rushes by a\nstream, defy the stoutest heart to snap them asunder. Colonel Thomas,\nan officer of the Guards, who was killed in a duel, added the following\nclause to his will the night before he died:--\"In the first place, I\ncommit my soul to Almighty God, in hope of his mercy and pardon for the\nirreligious step I now (in compliance with the unwarrantable customs of\nthis wicked world) put myself under the necessity of taking.\" How many\nhave been in the same state of mind as this wise, foolish man! He knew\nhis error, and abhorred it, but could not resist it, for fear of the\nopinion of the prejudiced and unthinking. No other could have blamed him\nfor refusing to fight a duel.\n\nThe list of duels that have sprung from the most degrading causes might\nbe stretched out to an almost indefinite extent. Sterne's father\nfought a duel about a goose; and the great Raleigh about a tavern\nbill. [Raleigh, at one period of his life, appeared to be an inveterate\nduellist, and it was said of him that he had been engaged in more\nencounters of the kind than any man of note among his contemporaries.\nMore than one fellow-creature he had deprived of life; but he lived\nlong enough to be convinced of the sinfulness of his conduct, and made\na solemn vow never to fight another duel. The following anecdote of his\nforbearance is well known, but it will bear repetition:--\n\nA dispute arose in a coffee-house between him and a young man on some\ntrivial point, and the latter, losing his temper, impertinently spat in\nthe face of the veteran. Sir Walter, instead of running him through\nthe body, as many would have done, or challenging him to mortal combat,\ncoolly took out his handkerchief, wiped his face, and said, \"Young man,\nif I could as easily wipe from my conscience the stain of killing you,\nas I can this spittle from my face, you should not live another minute.\"\nThe young man immediately begged his pardon.] Scores of duels (many of\nthem fatal) have been fought from disputes at cards, or a place at a\ntheatre, while hundreds of challenges, given and accepted over-night, in\na fit of drunkenness, have been fought out the next morning to the death\nof one or both of the antagonists.\n\nTwo of the most notorious duels of modern times had their origin in\ncauses no more worthy than the quarrel of a dog and the favour of a\nprostitute: that between Macnamara and Montgomery arising from the\nformer; and that between Best and Lord Camelford, from the latter. The\ndog of Montgomery attacked a dog belonging to Macnamara, and each master\ninterfering in behalf of his own animal, high words ensued. The result\nwas the giving and accepting a challenge to mortal combat. The parties\nmet on the following day, when Montgomery was shot dead, and his\nantagonist severely wounded. This affair created a great sensation at\nthe time, and Heaviside, the surgeon who attended at the fatal field to\nrender his assistance, if necessary, was arrested as an accessory to the\nmurder, and committed to Newgate.\n\nIn the duel between Best and Lord Camelford, two pistols were used\nwhich were considered to be the best in England. One of them was thought\nslightly superior to the other, and it was agreed that the belligerents\nshould toss up a piece of money to decide the choice of weapons. Best\ngained it, and, at the first discharge, Lord Camelford fell, mortally\nwounded. But little sympathy was expressed for his fate; he was a\nconfirmed duellist, had been engaged in many meetings of the kind, and\nthe blood of more than one fellow-creature lay at his door. As he had\nsowed, so did he reap; and the violent man met an appropriate death.\n\nIt now only remains to notice the means that have been taken to stay the\nprevalence of this madness of false honour in the various countries\nof the civilized world. The efforts of the governments of France and\nEngland have already been mentioned, and their want of success is\nbut too well known. The same efforts have been attended with the same\nresults elsewhere. In despotic countries, where the will of the monarch\nhas been strongly expressed and vigorously supported, a diminution of\nthe evil has for a while resulted, but only to be increased again, when\ndeath relaxed the iron grasp, and a successor appeared of less decided\nopinions upon the subject. This was the case in Prussia under the great\nFrederick, of whose aversion to duelling a popular anecdote is recorded.\nIt is stated of him that he permitted duelling in his army, but only\nupon the condition that the combatants should fight in presence of a\nwhole battalion of infantry, drawn up on purpose, to see fair play. The\nlatter received strict orders, when one of the belligerents fell, to\nshoot the other immediately. It is added, that the known determination\nof the King effectually put a stop to the practice.\n\nThe Emperor Joseph II of Austria was as firm as Frederick, although the\nmeasures he adopted were not so singular. The following letter explains\nhis views on the subject:--\n\n\"To GENERAL * * * * *\n\n\"MY GENERAL,\n\n\"You will immediately arrest the Count of K. and Captain W. The Count is\nyoung, passionate, and influenced by wrong notions of birth and a false\nspirit of honour. Captain W. is an old soldier, who will adjust every\ndispute with the sword and pistol, and who has received the challenge of\nthe young Count with unbecoming warmth.\n\n\"I will suffer no duelling in my army. I despise the principles of\nthose who attempt to justify the practice, and who would run each other\nthrough the body in cold blood.\n\n\"When I have officers who bravely expose themselves to every danger\nin facing the enemy--who at all times exhibit courage, valour, and\nresolution in attack and defence, I esteem them highly. The coolness\nwith which they meet death on such occasions is serviceable to their\ncountry, and at the same time redounds to their own honour; but should\nthere be men amongst them who are ready to sacrifice everything to their\nvengeance and hatred, I despise them. I consider such a man as no better\nthan a Roman gladiator.\n\n\"Order a court-martial to try the two officers. Investigate the subject\nof their dispute with that impartiality which I demand from every judge;\nand he that is guilty, let him be a sacrifice to his fate and the laws.\n\n\"Such a barbarous custom, which suits the age of the Tamerlanes and\nBajazets, and which has often had such melancholy effects on single\nfamilies, I will have suppressed and punished, even if it should deprive\nme of one half of my officers. There are still men who know how to unite\nthe character of a hero with that of a good subject; and he only can be\nso who respects the laws.\n\n\"JOSEPH.\"\n\n\"August 1771.\"\n\n[Vide the Letters of Joseph II to distinguished Princes and Statesmen,\npublished for the first time in England in \"The Pamphleteer\" for 1821.\nThey were originally published in Germany a few years previously, and\nthrow a great light upon the character of that monarch and the events of\nhis reign.]\n\nIn the United States of America the code varies considerably. In one or\ntwo of the still wild and simple States of the Far West, where no duel\nhas yet been fought, there is no specific law upon the subject beyond\nthat in the Decalogue, which says, \"Thou shalt do no murder.\" But\nduelling everywhere follows the steps of modern civilization, and by the\ntime the backwoodsman is transformed into the citizen, he has imbibed\nthe false notions of honour which are prevalent in Europe, and around\nhim, and is ready, like his progenitors, to settle his differences\nwith the pistol. In the majority of the States the punishment for\nchallenging, fighting, or acting as second, is solitary imprisonment and\nhard labour for any period less than a year, and disqualification for\nserving any public office for twenty years. In Vermont the punishment\nis total disqualification for office, deprivation of the rights of\ncitizenship, and a fine; in fatal cases, the same punishment as that of\nmurderers. In Rhode Island, the combatant, though death does not ensue,\nis liable to be carted to the gallows, with a rope about his neck, and\nto sit in this trim for an hour, exposed to the peltings of the mob. He\nmay be further imprisoned for a year, at the option of the magistrate.\nIn Connecticut the punishment is total disqualification for office or\nemploy, and a fine, varying from one hundred to a thousand dollars. The\nlaws of Illinois require certain officers of the state to make oath,\nprevious to their instalment, that they have never been, nor ever will\nbe, concerned in a duel. [\"Encyclopedia Americana,\" art. Duelling.]\n\nAmongst the edicts against duelling promulgated at various times in\nEurope, may be mentioned that of Augustus King of Poland, in 1712, which\ndecreed the punishment of death against principals and seconds, and\nminor punishments against the bearers of a challenge. An edict was also\npublished at Munich, in 1773, according to which both principals and\nseconds, even in duels where no one was either killed or wounded, should\nbe hanged, and their bodies buried at the foot of the gallows. The King\nof Naples issued an ordinance against duelling in 1838, in which the\npunishment of death is decreed against all concerned in a fatal\nduel. The bodies of those killed, and of those who may be executed in\nconsequence, are to be buried in unconsecrated ground, and without any\nreligious ceremony; nor is any monument to be erected on the spot. The\npunishment for duels in which either, or both, are wounded, and for\nthose in which no damage whatever is done, varies according to the\ncase, and consists of fine, imprisonment, loss of rank and honours, and\nincapacity for filling any public situation. Bearers of challenges may\nalso be punished with fine and imprisonment.\n\nIt might be imagined that enactments so severe all over the civilized\nworld would finally eradicate a custom, the prevalence of which every\nwise and good man must deplore. But the frowns of the law never yet have\ntaught, and never will teach, men to desist from this practice, as long\nas it is felt that the lawgiver sympathises with it in his heart. The\nstern judge upon the bench may say to the unfortunate wight who has been\ncalled a liar by some unmannerly opponent, \"If you challenge him, you\nmeditate murder, and are guilty of murder!\" but the same judge, divested\nof his robes of state, and mixing in the world with other men, would\nsay, \"If you do not challenge him, if you do not run the risk of making\nyourself a murderer, you will be looked upon as a mean-spirited wretch,\nunfit to associate with your fellows, and deserving nothing but their\nscorn and their contempt!\" It is society, and not the duellist, who is\nto blame. Female influence, too, which is so powerful in leading men\neither to good or to evil, takes, in this case, the evil part. Mere\nanimal bravery has, unfortunately, such charms in the female eye, that a\nsuccessful duellist is but too often regarded as a sort of hero; and\nthe man who refuses to fight, though of truer courage, is thought a\npoltroon, who may be trampled on. Mr. Graves, a member of the American\nLegislature, who, early in 1838, killed a Mr. Cilley in a duel, truly\nand eloquently said, on the floor of the House of Representatives, when\nlamenting the unfortunate issue of that encounter, that society was more\nto blame than he was. \"Public opinion,\" said the repentant orator, \"is\npractically the paramount law of the land. Every other law, both human\nand divine, ceases to be observed; yea, withers and perishes in contact\nwith it. It was this paramount law of this nation, and of this House,\nthat forced me, under the penalty of dishonour, to subject myself to the\ncode, which impelled me unwillingly into this tragical affair. Upon the\nheads of this nation, and at the doors of this House, rests the blood\nwith which my unfortunate hands have been stained!\"\n\nAs long as society is in this mood; as long as it thinks that the man\nwho refuses to resent an insult, deserved that insult, and should be\nscouted accordingly, so long, it is to be feared, will duelling exist,\nhowever severe the laws may be. Men must have redress for injuries\ninflicted, and when those injuries are of such a nature that no tribunal\nwill take cognizance of them, the injured will take the law into their\nown hands, and right themselves in the opinion of their fellows, at\nthe hazard of their lives. Much as the sage may affect to despise the\nopinion of the world, there are few who would not rather expose their\nlives a hundred times than be condemned to live on, in society, but not\nof it--a by-word of reproach to all who know their history, and a mark\nfor scorn to point his finger at.\n\nThe only practicable means for diminishing the force of a custom which\nis the disgrace of civilization, seems to be the establishment of a\ncourt of honour, which should take cognizance of all those delicate\nand almost intangible offences which yet wound so deeply. The court\nestablished by Louis XIV might be taken as a model. No man now fights a\nduel when a fit apology has been offered, and it should be the duty of\nthis court to weigh dispassionately the complaint of every man injured\nin his honour, either by word or deed, and to force the offender to make\na public apology. If he refused the apology, he would be the breaker of\na second law; an offender against a high court, as well as against the\nman he had injured, and might be punished with fine and imprisonment,\nthe latter to last until he saw the error of his conduct, and made the\nconcession which the court demanded.\n\nIf, after the establishment of this tribunal, men should be found of\na nature so bloodthirsty as not to be satisfied with its peaceful\ndecisions, and should resort to the old and barbarous mode of an appeal\nto the pistol, some means might be found of dealing with them. To hang\nthem as murderers would be of no avail; for to such men death would have\nfew terrors. Shame alone would bring them to reason. The following\ncode, it is humbly suggested to all future legislators upon the subject,\nwould, in conjunction with the establishment of a court of honour, do\nmuch towards eradicating this blot from society. Every man who fought a\nduel, even though he did not wound his opponent, should be tried, and,\nupon proof of the fact, be sentenced to have his right hand cut off.\nThe world would then know his true character as long as he lived. If\nhis habits of duelling were so inveterate, and he should learn to fire\na pistol with his left hand, he should, upon conviction of a second\noffence, lose that hand also. This law, which should allow no\ncommutation of the punishment, under any circumstances, would lend\nstrength and authority to the court of honour. In the course of a few\nyears duelling would be ranked amongst exploded follies, and men would\nbegin to wonder that a custom so barbarous and so impious had ever\nexisted amongst them.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LOVE OF THE MARVELLOUS AND THE DISBELIEF OF THE TRUE.\n\n\n\"Well, son John,\" said the old woman, \"and what wonderful things did you\nmeet with all the time you were at sea?\"--\"Oh! mother,\" replied John, \"I\nsaw many strange things.\"--\"Tell us all about them,\" replied his mother,\n\"for I long to hear your adventures.\"--\"Well, then,\" said John, \"as\nwe were sailing over the Line, what do you think we saw?\"--\"I can't\nimagine,\" replied his mother.--\"Well, we saw a fish rise out of the sea,\nand fly over our ship!\" \"Oh! John! John! what a liar you are!\" said his\nmother, shaking her head, and smiling incredulously. \"True as death?\nsaid John; \"and we saw still more wonderful things than that.\"--\"Let\nus hear them,\" said his mother, shaking her head again; \"and tell\nthe truth, John, if you can.\"--\"Believe it, or believe it not, as you\nplease,\" replied her son; \"but as we were sailing up the Red Sea, our\ncaptain thought he should like some fish for dinner; so he told us to\nthrow our nets, and catch some.\"--\"Well,\" inquired his mother, seeing\nthat he paused in his story. \"Well,\" rejoined her son, \"we did throw\nthem, and, at the very first haul, we brought up a chariot-wheel,\nmade all of gold, and inlaid with diamonds!\" \"Lord bless us!\" said his\nmother, \"and what did the captain say?\"--\"Why, he said it was one of\nthe wheels of Pharaoh's chariot, that had lain in the Red Sea ever since\nthat wicked King was drowned, with all his host, while pursuing the\nIsraelites.\"--\"Well, well,\" said his mother, lifting up her hands in\nadmiration; \"now, that's very possible, and I think the captain was a\nvery sensible man. Tell me such stories as that, and I'll believe you;\nbut never talk to me of such things as flying fish! No, no, John, such\nstories won't go down with me, I can assure you!\"\n\nSuch old women as the sailor's mother, in the above well-known anecdote,\nare by no means rare in the world. Every age and country has produced\nthem. They have been found in high places, and have sat down among the\nlearned of the earth. Instances must be familiar to every reader in\nwhich the same person was willing, with greedy credulity, to swallow\nthe most extravagant fiction, and yet refuse credence to a philosophical\nfact. The same Greeks who believed readily that Jupiter wooed Leda in\nthe form of a swan, denied stoutly that there were any physical causes\nfor storms and thunder, and treated as impious those who attempted to\naccount for them on true philosophical principles.\n\nThe reasons that thus lead mankind to believe the marvellously false,\nand to disbelieve the marvellously true, may be easily gathered. Of\nall the offspring of Time, Error is the most ancient, and is so old and\nfamiliar an acquaintance, that Truth, when discovered, comes upon most\nof us like an intruder, and meets the intruder's welcome. We all pay an\ninvoluntary homage to antiquity--a \"blind homage,\" as Bacon calls it in\nhis \"Novum Organum,\" which tends greatly to the obstruction of truth.\nTo the great majority of mortal eyes, Time sanctifies everything that\nhe does not destroy. The mere fact of anything being spared by the great\nfoe makes it a favourite with us, who are sure to fall his victims. To\ncall a prejudice \"time-hallowed,\" is to open a way for it into hearts\nwhere it never before penetrated. Some peculiar custom may disgrace the\npeople amongst whom it flourishes; yet men of a little wisdom refuse to\naid in its extirpation, merely because it is old. Thus it is with human\nbelief, and thus it is we bring shame upon our own intellect.\n\nTo this cause may be added another, also mentioned by Lord Bacon--a\nmisdirected zeal in matters of religion, which induces so many to decry\na newly-discovered truth, because the Divine records contain no allusion\nto it, or because, at first sight, it appears to militate, not against\nreligion, but against some obscure passage which has never been fairly\ninterpreted. The old woman in the story could not believe that there was\nsuch a creature as a flying-fish, because her Bible did not tell her\nso, but she believed that her son had drawn up the golden and bejewelled\nwheel from the Red Sea, because her Bible informed her that Pharaoh was\ndrowned there.\n\nUpon a similar principle the monks of the inquisition believed that the\ndevil appeared visibly among men, that St. Anthony pulled his nose with\na pair of red-hot pincers, and that the relics of the saints worked\nmiracles; yet they would not believe Galileo, when he proved that the\nearth turned round the sun.\n\nKeppler, when he asserted the same fact, could gain no bread, and little\ncredence; but when he pretended to tell fortunes and cast nativities,\nthe whole town flocked to him, and paid him enormous fees for his\nfalsehood.\n\nWhen Roger Bacon invented the telescope and the magic-lantern, no one\nbelieved that the unaided ingenuity of man could have done it; but when\nsome wiseacres asserted that the devil had appeared to him, and given\nhim the knowledge which he turned to such account, no one was bold\nenough to assert that it was improbable. His hint that saltpetre,\nsulphur, and charcoal, mixed in certain proportions, would produce\neffects similar to thunder and lightning, was disregarded or\ndisbelieved; but the legend of the brazen head which delivered oracles,\nwas credited for many ages.\n\n[Godwin, in his \"Lives of the Necromancers,\" gives the following version\nof this legend. Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay entertained the project of\nenclosing England with a wall, so as to render it inaccessible to any\ninvader. They accordingly raised the devil, as the person best able to\ninform them how this was to be done. The devil advised them to make a\nbrazen head, with all the internal structure and organs of a human head.\nThe construction would cost them much time, and they must wait with\npatience till the faculty of speech descended upon it. Finally, however,\nit would become an oracle, and, if the question were propounded to it,\nwould teach them the solution of their problem. The friars spent seven\nyears in bringing the subject to perfection, and waited day after day\nin expectation that it would utter articulate sounds. At length nature\nbecame exhausted in them, and they lay down to sleep, having first given\nit strictly in charge to a servant of theirs, clownish in nature, but of\nstrict fidelity, that he should awaken them the moment the image began\nto speak. That period arrived. The head uttered sounds, but such as\nthe clown judged unworthy of notice. \"Time is!\" it said. No notice was\ntaken, and a long pause ensued. \"Time was!\"--a similar pause, and\nno notice. \"Time is passed!\" The moment these words were uttered, a\ntremendous storm ensued, with thunder and lightning, and the head was\nshivered into a thousand pieces. Thus the experiment of Friar Bacon and\nFriar Bungay came to nothing.]\n\nSolomon De Cans, who, in the time of Cardinal Richelieu, conceived the\nidea of a steam-engine, was shut up in the Bastille as a madman, because\nthe idea of such an extraordinary instrument was too preposterous for\nthe wise age that believed in all the absurdities of witchcraft.\n\nWhen Harvey first proved the circulation of the blood, every tongue was\nlet loose against him. The thing was too obviously an imposition, and\nan attempt to deceive that public who believed that a king's touch had\npower to cure the scrofula. That a dead criminal's hand, rubbed against\na wen, would cure it, was reasonable enough; but that the blood flowed\nthrough the veins was beyond all probability.\n\nIn our own day, a similar fate awaited the beneficent discovery of Dr.\nJenner. That vaccination could abate the virulence of, or preserve from,\nthe smallpox, was quite incredible; none but a cheat and a quack could\nassert it: but that the introduction of the vaccine matter into the\nhuman frame could endow men with the qualities of a cow, was quite\nprobable. Many of the poorer people actually dreaded that their children\nwould grow hairy and horned as cattle, if they suffered them to be\nvaccinated.\n\nThe Jesuit, Father Labat, the shrewd and learned traveller in South\nAmerica, relates an experiment which he made upon the credulity of some\nnative Peruvians. Holding a powerful lens in his hand, and concentrating\nthe rays of the sun upon the naked arm of an admiring savage, he soon\nmade him roar with pain. All the tribe looked on, first with wonder, and\nthen with indignation and wonder both combined. In vain the philosopher\nattempted to explain the cause of the phenomenon--in vain he offered to\nconvince them that there was nothing devilish in the experiment--he was\nthought to be in league with the infernal gods to draw down the fire\nfrom Heaven, and was looked upon, himself, as an awful and supernatural\nbeing. Many attempts were made to gain possession of the lens, with the\nview of destroying it, and thereby robbing the Western stranger of the\nmeans of bringing upon them the vengeance of his deities.\n\nVery similar was the conduct of that inquiring Brahmin, which is\nrelated by Forbes in his Oriental Memoirs. The Brahmin had a mind\nbetter cultivated than his fellows; he was smitten with a love for the\nknowledge of Europe--read English books--pored over the pages of the\nEncyclopedia, and profited by various philosophical instruments; but on\nreligious questions the Brahmin was firm to the faith of his caste and\nthe doctrine of the Metempsychosis. Lest he might sacrilegiously devour\nhis progenitors, he abstained from all animal food; and thinking that he\nate nothing which enjoyed life, he supported himself, like his brethren,\nupon fruits and vegetables. All the knowledge that did not run counter\nto this belief, he sought after with avidity, and bade fair to become\nthe wisest of his race. In an evil hour, his English friend and\ninstructor exhibited a very powerful solar microscope, by means of\nwhich he showed him that every drop of water that he drank teemed\nwith life--that every fruit was like a world, covered with innumerable\nanimalculae, each of which was fitted by its organization for the sphere\nin which it moved, and had its wants, and the capability of supplying\nthem as completely as visible animals millions of times its bulk. The\nEnglish philosopher expected that his Hindoo friend would be enraptured\nat the vast field of knowledge thus suddenly opened out to him, but\nhe was deceived. The Brahmin from that time became an altered\nman--thoughtful, gloomy, reserved, and discontented. He applied\nrepeatedly to his friend that he would make him a present of the\nmicroscope; but as it was the only one of its kind in India, and the\nowner set a value upon it for other reasons, he constantly refused the\nrequest, but offered him the loan of it for any period he might require.\nBut nothing short of an unconditional gift of the instrument would\nsatisfy the Brahmin, who became at last so importunate that the patience\nof the Englishman was exhausted, and he gave it him. A gleam of joy\nshot across the care-worn features of the Hindoo as he clutched it, and\nbounding with an exulting leap into the garden, he seized a large stone,\nand dashed the instrument into a thousand pieces. When called upon to\nexplain his extraordinary conduct, he said to his friend, \"Oh that I had\nremained in that happy state of ignorance wherein you first found me!\nYet will I confess that, as my knowledge increased, so did my pleasure,\nuntil I beheld the last wonders of the microscope; from that moment\nI have been tormented by doubt and perplexed by mystery: my mind,\noverwhelmed by chaotic confusion, knows not where to rest, nor how to\nextricate itself from such a maze. I am miserable, and must continue\nto be so, until I enter on another stage of existence. I am a solitary\nindividual among fifty millions of people, all educated in the same\nbelief with myself--all happy in their ignorance! So may they ever\nremain! I shall keep the secret within my own bosom, where it will\ncorrode my peace and break my rest. But I shall have some satisfaction\nin knowing that I alone feel those pangs which, had I not destroyed\nthe instrument, might have been extensively communicated, and rendered\nthousands miserable! Forgive me, my valuable friend! and oh, convey no\nmore implements of knowledge and destruction!\"\n\nMany a learned man may smile at the ignorance of the Peruvian and\nthe Hindoo, unconscious that he himself is just as ignorant and as\nprejudiced. Who does not remember the outcry against the science of\ngeology, which has hardly yet subsided? Its professors were impiously\nand absurdly accused of designing to \"hurl the Creator from his throne.\"\nThey were charged with sapping the foundations of religion, and of\npropping atheism by the aid of a pretended science.\n\nThe very same principle which leads to the rejection of the true, leads\nto the encouragement of the false. Thus we may account for the success\nwhich has attended great impostors, at times when the truth, though\nnot half so wondrous as their impositions, has been disregarded as\nextravagant and preposterous. The man who wishes to cheat the people,\nmust needs found his operations upon some prejudice or belief that\nalready exists. Thus the philosophic pretenders who told fortunes by\nthe stars cured all diseases by one nostrum, and preserved from evil by\ncharms and amulets, ran with the current of popular belief. Errors\nthat were consecrated by time and long familiarity, they heightened and\nembellished, and succeeded to their hearts' content; but the preacher of\ntruth had a foundation to make as well as a superstructure, a difficulty\nwhich did not exist for the preacher of error. Columbus preached a new\nworld, but was met with distrust and incredulity; had he preached with\nas much zeal and earnestness the discovery of some valley in the old\none, where diamonds hung upon the trees, or a herb grew that cured all\nthe ills incidental to humanity, he would have found a warm and hearty\nwelcome--might have sold dried cabbage leaves for his wonderful herb,\nand made his fortune.\n\nIn fact, it will be found in the history of every generation and race of\nmen, that whenever a choice of belief between the \"Wondrously False\"\nand the \"Wondrously True\" is given to ignorance or prejudice, that their\nchoice will be fixed upon the first, for the reason that it is most\nakin to their own nature. The great majority of mankind, and even of\nthe wisest among us, are still in the condition of the sailor's\nmother--believing and disbelieving on the same grounds that she\ndid--protesting against the flying fish, but cherishing the golden\nwheels. Thousands there are amongst us, who, rather than pin their faith\nin the one fish, would believe not only in the wheel of gold, but the\nchariot--not only in the chariot, but in the horses and the driver.\n\n\n\n\nPOPULAR FOLLIES IN GREAT CITIES\n\n\n     La faridondaine--la faridondon,\n     Vive la faridondaine!\n\n     BERANGER.\n\nThe popular humours of a great city are a never-failing source of\namusement to the man whose sympathies are hospitable enough to embrace\nall his kind, and who, refined though he may be himself, will not sneer\nat the humble wit or grotesque peculiarities of the boozing mechanic,\nthe squalid beggar, the vicious urchin, and all the motley group of\nthe idle, the reckless, and the imitative that swarm in the alleys and\nbroadways of a metropolis. He who walks through a great city to find\nsubjects for weeping, may, God knows, find plenty at every corner to\nwring his heart; but let such a man walk on his course, and enjoy his\ngrief alone--we are not of those who would accompany him. The miseries\nof us poor earth-dwellers gain no alleviation from the sympathy of\nthose who merely hunt them out to be pathetic over them. The weeping\nphilosopher too often impairs his eyesight by his woe, and becomes\nunable from his tears to see the remedies for the evils which he\ndeplores. Thus it will often be found that the man of no tears is the\ntruest philanthropist, as he is the best physician who wears a cheerful\nface, even in the worst of cases.\n\nSo many pens have been employed to point out the miseries, and so\nmany to condemn the crimes and vices, and more serious follies of the\nmultitude, that our's shall not increase the number, at least in this\nchapter. Our present task shall be less ungracious, and wandering\nthrough the busy haunts of great cities, we shall seek only for\namusement, and note as we pass a few of the harmless follies and\nwhimsies of the poor.\n\nAnd, first of all, walk where we will, we cannot help hearing from every\nside a phrase repeated with delight, and received with laughter, by\nmen with hard hands and dirty faces--by saucy butcher lads and\nerrand-boys--by loose women--by hackney coachmen, cabriolet drivers, and\nidle fellows who loiter at the corners of streets. Not one utters this\nphrase without producing a laugh from all within hearing. It seems\napplicable to every circumstance, and is the universal answer to every\nquestion; in short, it is the favourite slang phrase of the day, a\nphrase that, while its brief season of popularity lasts, throws a dash\nof fun and frolicsomeness over the existence of squalid poverty and\nill-requited labour, and gives them reason to laugh as well as their\nmore fortunate fellows in a higher stage of society.\n\nLondon is peculiarly fertile in this sort of phrases, which spring\nup suddenly, no one knows exactly in what spot, and pervade the\nwhole population in a few hours, no one knows how. Many years ago the\nfavourite phrase (for, though but a monosyllable, it was a phrase in\nitself) was Quoz. This odd word took the fancy of the multitude in\nan extraordinary degree, and very soon acquired an almost boundless\nmeaning. When vulgar wit wished to mark its incredulity and raise a\nlaugh at the same time, there was no resource so sure as this popular\npiece of slang. When a man was asked a favour which he did not choose to\ngrant, he marked his sense of the suitor's unparalleled presumption by\nexclaiming Quoz! When a mischievous urchin wished to annoy a passenger,\nand create mirth for his chums, he looked him in the face, and cried out\nQuoz! and the exclamation never failed in its object. When a disputant\nwas desirous of throwing a doubt upon the veracity of his opponent, and\ngetting summarily rid of an argument which he could not overturn,\nhe uttered the word Quoz, with a contemptuous curl of his lip and an\nimpatient shrug of his shoulders. The universal monosyllable conveyed\nall his meaning, and not only told his opponent that he lied, but that\nhe erred egregiously if he thought that any one was such a nincompoop as\nto believe him. Every alehouse resounded with Quoz; every street corner\nwas noisy with it, and every wall for miles around was chalked with it.\n\nBut, like all other earthly things, Quoz had its season, and passed away\nas suddenly as it arose, never again to be the pet and the idol of the\npopulace. A new claimant drove it from its place, and held undisputed\nsway till, in its turn, it was hurled from its pre-eminence, and a\nsuccessor appointed in its stead.\n\n\"What a shocking bad hat!\" was the phrase that was next in vogue. No\nsooner had it become universal, than thousands of idle but sharp eyes\nwere on the watch for the passenger whose hat showed any signs, however\nslight, of ancient service. Immediately the cry arose, and, like the\nwhat-whoop of the Indians, was repeated by a hundred discordant throats.\nHe was a wise man who, finding himself under these circumstances \"the\nobserved of all observers,\" bore his honours meekly. He who showed\nsymptoms of ill-feeling at the imputations cast upon his hat, only\nbrought upon himself redoubled notice. The mob soon perceive whether a\nman is irritable, and, if of their own class, they love to make sport of\nhim. When such a man, and with such a hat, passed in those days through\na crowded neighbourhood, he might think himself fortunate if his\nannoyances were confined to the shouts and cries of the populace. The\nobnoxious hat was often snatched from his head, and thrown into the\ngutter by some practical joker, and then raised, covered with mud, upon\nthe end of a stick, for the admiration of the spectators, who held their\nsides with laughter, and exclaimed in the pauses of their mirth, \"Oh!\nwhat a shocking bad hat!... What a shocking bad hat!\" Many a nervous,\npoor man, whose purse could but ill spare the outlay, doubtless\npurchased a new hat before the time, in order to avoid exposure in this\nmanner.\n\nThe origin of this singular saying, which made fun for the metropolis\nfor months, is not involved in the same obscurity as that which shrouds\nthe origin of Quoz and some others. There had been a hotly-contested\nelection for the borough of Southwark, and one of the candidates was an\neminent hatter. This gentleman, in canvassing the electors, adopted\na somewhat professional mode of conciliating their good-will, and\nof bribing them without letting them perceive that they were bribed.\nWhenever he called upon or met a voter whose hat was not of the best\nmaterial, or, being so, had seen its best days, he invariably said,\n\"What a shocking bad hat you have got; call at my warehouse, and you\nshall have a new one!\" Upon the day of election this circumstance was\nremembered, and his opponents made the most of it, by inciting the crowd\nto keep up an incessant cry of \"What a shocking bad hat!\" all the time\nthe honourable candidate was addressing them. From Southwark the phrase\nspread over all London, and reigned, for a time, the supreme slang of\nthe season.\n\nHookey Walker, derived from the chorus of a popular ballad, was also\nhigh in favour at one time, and served, like its predecessor, Quoz, to\nanswer all questions. In the course of time the latter word alone became\nthe favourite, and was uttered with a peculiar drawl upon the first\nsyllable, and a sharp turn upon the last. If a lively servant girl was\nimportuned for a kiss by a fellow she did not care about, she cocked her\nlittle nose, and cried \"Walker!\" If a dustman asked his friend for the\nloan of a shilling, and his friend was either unable or unwilling to\naccommodate him, the probable answer he would receive was \"Walker!\" If\na drunken man was reeling along the streets, and a boy pulled his\ncoat-tails, or a man knocked his hat over his eyes to make fun of him,\nthe joke was always accompanied by the same exclamation. This lasted for\ntwo or three months, and \"Walker!\" walked off the stage, never more to\nbe revived for the entertainment of that or any future generation.\n\nThe next phrase was a most preposterous one. Who invented it, how it\narose, or where it was first heard, are alike unknown. Nothing about it\nis certain, but that for months it was the slang par excellence of the\nLondoners, and afforded them a vast gratification. \"There he goes with\nhis eye out!\" or \"There she goes with her eye out!\" as the sex of the\nparty alluded to might be, was in the mouth of everybody who knew the\ntown. The sober part of the community were as much puzzled by this\nunaccountable saying as the vulgar were delighted with it. The wise\nthought it very foolish, but the many thought it very funny, and the\nidle amused themselves by chalking it upon walls, or scribbling it upon\nmonuments. But, \"all that's bright must fade,\" even in slang. The people\ngrew tired of their hobby, and \"There he goes with his eye out!\" was\nheard no more in its accustomed haunts.\n\nAnother very odd phrase came into repute in a brief space afterwards,\nin the form of the impertinent and not universally apposite query,\n\"Has your mother sold her mangle?\" But its popularity was not of that\nboisterous and cordial kind which ensures a long continuance of favour.\nWhat tended to impede its progress was, that it could not be well\napplied to the older portions of society. It consequently ran but a\nbrief career, and then sank into oblivion. Its successor enjoyed a more\nextended fame, and laid its foundations so deep, that years and changing\nfashions have not sufficed to eradicate it. This phrase was \"Flare up!\"\nand it is, even now, a colloquialism in common use. It took its rise in\nthe time of the Reform riots, when Bristol was nearly half burned by\nthe infuriated populace. The flames were said to have flared up in the\ndevoted city. Whether there was anything peculiarly captivating in the\nsound, or in the idea of these words, is hard to say; but whatever was\nthe reason, it tickled the mob-fancy mightily, and drove all other slang\nout of the field before it. Nothing was to be heard all over London but\n\"flare up!\" It answered all questions, settled all disputes, was applied\nto all persons, all things, and all circumstances, and became suddenly\nthe most comprehensive phrase in the English language. The man who had\noverstepped the bounds of decorum in his speech was said to have flared\nup; he who had paid visits too repeated to the gin-shop, and got damaged\nin consequence, had flared up. To put one's-self into a passion; to\nstroll out on a nocturnal frolic, and alarm a neighbourhood, or to\ncreate a disturbance in any shape, was to flare up. A lovers' quarrel\nwas a fare up; so was a boxing-match between two blackguards in the\nstreets, and the preachers of sedition and revolution recommended the\nEnglish nation to flare up, like the French. So great a favourite\nwas the word, that people loved to repeat it for its very sound. They\ndelighted apparently in hearing their own organs articulate it; and\nlabouring men, when none who could respond to the call were within\nhearing, would often startle the aristocratic echoes of the West by\nthe well-known slang phrase of the East. Even in the dead hours of the\nnight, the ears of those who watched late, or who could not sleep, were\nsaluted with the same sound. The drunkard reeling home showed that he\nwas still a man and a citizen, by calling \"flare up\" in the pauses of\nhis hiccough. Drink had deprived him of the power of arranging all other\nideas; his intellect was sunk to the level of the brute's; but he clung\nto humanity by the one last link of the popular cry. While he could\nvociferate that sound, he had rights as an Englishman, and would not\nsleep in a gutter, like a dog! Onwards he went, disturbing quiet streets\nand comfortable people by his whoop, till exhausted nature could support\nhim no more, and he rolled powerless into the road. When, in due time\nafterwards, the policeman stumbled upon him as he lay, that guardian\nof the peace turned the full light of his lantern on his face, and\nexclaimed, \"Here's a poor devil who's been flaring up!\" Then came the\nstretcher, on which the victim of deep potations was carried to the\nwatchhouse, and pitched into a dirty cell, among a score of wretches\nabout as far gone as himself, who saluted their new comrade by a loud,\nlong shout of flare up!\n\nSo universal was this phrase, and so enduring seemed its popularity,\nthat a speculator, who knew not the evanescence of slang, established a\nweekly newspaper under its name. But he was like the man who built his\nhouse upon the sand; his foundation gave way under him, and the phrase\nand the newspaper were washed into the mighty sea of the things that\nwere. The people grew at last weary of the monotony, and \"flare up\"\nbecame vulgar even among them. Gradually it was left to little boys\nwho did not know the world, and in process of time sank altogether into\nneglect. It is now heard no more as a piece of popular slang; but the\nwords are still used to signify any sudden outburst either of fire,\ndisturbance, or ill-nature.\n\nThe next phrase that enjoyed the favour of the million was less concise,\nand seems to have been originally aimed against precocious youths who\ngave themselves the airs of manhood before their time. \"Does your mother\nknow you're out?\" was the provoking query addressed to young men of\nmore than reasonable swagger, who smoked cigars in the streets, and\nwore false whiskers to look irresistible. We have seen many a conceited\nfellow who could not suffer a woman to pass him without staring her out\nof countenance, reduced at once into his natural insignificance by the\nmere utterance of this phrase. Apprentice lads and shopmen in their\nSunday clothes held the words in abhorrence, and looked fierce when they\nwere applied to them. Altogether the phrase had a very salutary effect,\nand in a thousand instances showed young Vanity, that it was not half so\npretty and engaging as it thought itself. What rendered it so provoking\nwas the doubt it implied as to the capability of self-guidance possessed\nby the individual to whom it was addressed. \"Does your mother know\nyou're out?\" was a query of mock concern and solicitude, implying regret\nand concern that one so young and inexperienced in the ways of a great\ncity should be allowed to wander abroad without the guidance of a\nparent. Hence the great wrath of those who verged on manhood, but had\nnot reached it, whenever they were made the subject of it. Even older\nheads did not like it; and the heir of a ducal house, and inheritor of a\nwarrior's name, to whom they were applied by a cabriolet driver, who was\nignorant of his rank, was so indignant at the affront, that he summoned\nthe offender before the magisterial bench. The fellow had wished to\nimpose upon his Lordship by asking double the fare he was entitled to,\nand when his Lordship resisted the demand, he was insultingly asked \"if\nhis mother knew he was out?\" All the drivers on the stand joined in the\nquery, and his Lordship was fain to escape their laughter by walking\naway with as much haste as his dignity would allow. The man pleaded\nignorance that his customer was a Lord, but offended justice fined him\nfor his mistake.\n\nWhen this phrase had numbered its appointed days, it died away, like\nits predecessors, and \"Who are you?\" reigned in its stead. This new\nfavourite, like a mushroom, seems to have sprung up in a night, or, like\na frog in Cheapside, to have come down in a sudden shower. One day it\nwas unheard, unknown, uninvented; the next it pervaded London; every\nalley resounded with it; every highway was musical with it,\n\n     \"And street to street, and lane to lane flung back\n     The one unvarying cry.\"\n\nThe phrase was uttered quickly, and with a sharp sound upon the first\nand last words, leaving the middle one little more than an aspiration.\nLike all its compeers which had been extensively popular, it was\napplicable to almost every variety of circumstance. The lovers of a\nplain answer to a plain question did not like it at all. Insolence made\nuse of it to give offence; ignorance, to avoid exposing itself; and\nwaggery, to create laughter. Every new comer into an alehouse tap-room\nwas asked unceremoniously, \"Who are you?\" and if he looked foolish,\nscratched his head, and did not know what to reply, shouts of boisterous\nmerriment resounded on every side. An authoritative disputant was not\nunfrequently put down, and presumption of every kind checked by the same\nquery. When its popularity was at its height, a gentleman, feeling the\nhand of a thief in his pocket, turned suddenly round, and caught him\nin the act, exclaiming, \"Who are you?\" The mob which gathered round\napplauded to the very echo, and thought it the most capital joke they\nhad ever heard--the very acme of wit--the very essence of humour.\nAnother circumstance, of a similar kind, gave an additional fillip to\nthe phrase, and infused new life and vigour into it, just as it was\ndying away. The scene occurred in the chief criminal court of the\nkingdom. A prisoner stood at the bar; the offence with which he had been\ncharged was clearly proved against him; his counsel had been heard, not\nin his defence, but in extenuation, insisting upon his previous good\nlife and character, as reasons for the lenity of the court. \"And where\nare your witnesses?\" inquired the learned judge who presided. \"Please\nyou, my Lord, I knows the prisoner at the bar, and a more honester\nfeller never breathed,\" said a rough voice in the gallery. The\nofficers of the court looked aghast, and the strangers tittered with\nill-suppressed laughter. \"Who are you?\" said the Judge, looking suddenly\nup, but with imperturbable gravity. The court was convulsed; the titter\nbroke out into a laugh, and it was several minutes before silence\nand decorum could be restored. When the Ushers recovered their\nself-possession, they made diligent search for the profane transgressor;\nbut he was not to be found. Nobody knew him; nobody had seen him. After\na while the business of the court again proceeded. The next prisoner\nbrought up for trial augured favourably of his prospects when he learned\nthat the solemn lips of the representative of justice had uttered the\npopular phrase as if he felt and appreciated it. There was no fear that\nsuch a judge would use undue severity; his heart was with the people; he\nunderstood their language and their manners, and would make allowances\nfor the temptations which drove them into crime. So thought many of\nthe prisoners, if we may infer it from the fact, that the learned judge\nsuddenly acquired an immense increase of popularity. The praise of\nhis wit was in every mouth, and \"Who are you?\" renewed its lease, and\nremained in possession of public favour for another term in consequence.\n\nBut it must not be supposed that there were no interregni between the\ndominion of one slang phrase and another. They did not arise in one\nlong line of unbroken succession, but shared with song the possession of\npopular favour. Thus, when the people were in the mood for music, slang\nadvanced its claims to no purpose, and, when they were inclined for\nslang, the sweet voice of music wooed them in vain. About twenty years\nago London resounded with one chorus, with the love of which everybody\nseemed to be smitten. Girls and boys, young men and old, maidens and\nwives, and widows, were all alike musical. There was an absolute mania\nfor singing, and the worst of it was, that, like good Father Philip,\nin the romance of \"The Monastery,\" they seemed utterly unable to change\ntheir tune. \"Cherry ripe!\" \"Cherry ripe!\" was the universal cry of all\nthe idle in the town. Every unmelodious voice gave utterance to it;\nevery crazy fiddle, every cracked flute, every wheezy pipe, every street\norgan was heard in the same strain, until studious and quiet men\nstopped their ears in desperation, or fled miles away into the fields or\nwoodlands, to be at peace. This plague lasted for a twelvemonth, until\nthe very name of cherries became an abomination in the land. At last\nthe excitement wore itself away, and the tide of favour set in a new\ndirection. Whether it was another song or a slang phrase, is difficult\nto determine at this distance of time; but certain it is, that very\nshortly afterwards, people went mad upon a dramatic subject, and nothing\nwas to be heard of but \"Tom and Jerry.\" Verbal wit had amused the\nmultitude long enough, and they became more practical in their\nrecreation. Every youth on the town was seized with the fierce desire of\ndistinguishing himself, by knocking down the \"charlies,\" being locked\nup all night in a watchhouse, or kicking up a row among loose women and\nblackguard men in the low dens of St. Giles's. Imitative boys vied with\ntheir elders in similar exploits, until this unworthy passion, for such\nit was, had lasted, like other follies, its appointed time, and the town\nbecame merry after another fashion. It was next thought the height of\nvulgar wit to answer all questions by placing the point of the thumb\nupon the tip of the nose, and twirling the fingers in the air. If one\nman wished to insult or annoy another, he had only to make use of this\ncabalistic sign in his face, and his object was accomplished. At every\nstreet corner where a group was assembled, the spectator who was curious\nenough to observe their movements, would be sure to see the fingers of\nsome of them at their noses, either as a mark of incredulity, surprise,\nrefusal, or mockery, before he had watched two minutes. There is some\nremnant of this absurd custom to be seen to this day; but it is thought\nlow, even among the vulgar.\n\nAbout six years ago, London became again most preposterously musical.\nThe vox populi wore itself hoarse by singing the praises of \"The Sea,\nthe Sea!\" If a stranger (and a philosopher) had walked through London,\nand listened to the universal chorus, he might have constructed a very\npretty theory upon the love of the English for the sea-service, and our\nacknowledged superiority over all other nations upon that element. \"No\nwonder,\" he might have said, \"that this people is invincible upon the\nocean. The love of it mixes with their daily thoughts: they celebrate it\neven in the market-place: their street-minstrels excite charity by it;\nand high and low, young and old, male and female, chant Io paeans in\nits praise. Love is not honoured in the national songs of this warlike\nrace--Bacchus is no god to them; they are men of sterner mould, and\nthink only of 'the Sea, the Sea!' and the means of conquering upon it.\"\n\nSuch would, doubtless, have been his impression if he had taken the\nevidence only of his ears. Alas! in those days for the refined ears that\nwere musical! great was their torture when discord, with its thousand\ndiversities of tone, struck up this appalling anthem--there was no\nescape from it. The migratory minstrels of Savoy caught the strain, and\npealed it down the long vistas of quiet streets, till their innermost\nand snuggest apartments re-echoed with the sound. Men were obliged to\nendure this crying evil for full six months, wearied to desperation, and\nmade sea-sick on the dry land.\n\nSeveral other songs sprang up in due succession afterwards, but none of\nthem, with the exception of one, entitled \"All round my Hat,\" enjoyed\nany extraordinary share of favour, until an American actor introduced a\nvile song called \"Jim Crow.\" The singer sang his verses in appropriate\ncostume, with grotesque gesticulations, and a sudden whirl of his body\nat the close of each verse. It took the taste of the town immediately,\nand for months the ears of orderly people were stunned by the senseless\nchorus--\n\n     \"Turn about and wheel about,\n     And do just so--\n     Turn about and wheel about,\n     And jump, Jim Crow!\"\n\nStreet-minstrels blackened their faces in order to give proper effect to\nthe verses; and fatherless urchins, who had to choose between thieving\nand singing for their livelihood, took the latter course, as likely to\nbe the more profitable, as long as the public taste remained in that\ndirection. The uncouth dance, its accompaniment, might be seen in its\nfull perfection on market nights in any great thoroughfare; and the\nwords of the song might be heard, piercing above all the din and buzz of\nthe ever-moving multitude. He, the calm observer, who during the hey-day\npopularity of this doggrel,\n\n     \"Sate beside the public way,\n     Thick strewn with summer dust, and saw the stream\n     Of people there was hurrying to and fro,\n     Numerous as gnats upon the evening gleam,\"\n\nmight have exclaimed with Shelley, whose fine lines we quote, that\n\n     \"The million, with fierce song and maniac dance,\n     Did rage around.\"\n\nThe philosophic theorist we have already supposed soliloquising upon the\nEnglish character, and forming his opinion of it from their exceeding\nlove for a sea-song, might, if he had again dropped suddenly into\nLondon, have formed another very plausible theory to account for our\nunremitting efforts for the abolition of the Slave Trade. \"Benevolent\npeople!\" he might have said, \"how unbounded are your sympathies! Your\nunhappy brethren of Africa, differing from you only in the colour of\ntheir skins, are so dear to you, and you begrudge so little the twenty\nmillions you have paid on their behalf, that you love to have a memento\nof them continually in your sight. Jim Crow is the representative of\nthat injured race, and as such is the idol of your populace! See how\nthey all sing his praises!--how they imitate his peculiarities!--how\nthey repeat his name in their moments of leisure and relaxation! They\neven carve images of him to adorn their hearths, that his cause and\nhis sufferings may never be forgotten! Oh, philanthropic England!--oh,\nvanguard of civilization!\"\n\nSuch are a few of the peculiarities of the London multitude, when no\nriot, no execution, no murder, no balloon, disturbs the even current of\ntheir thoughts. These are the whimseys of the mass--the harmless follies\nby which they unconsciously endeavour to lighten the load of care which\npresses upon their existence. The wise man, even though he smile at\nthem, will not altogether withhold his sympathy, and will say, \"Let them\nenjoy their slang phrases and their choruses if they will; and if they\ncannot be happy, at least let them be merry.\" To the Englishman, as well\nas to the Frenchman of whom Beranger sings, there may be some comfort in\nso small a thing as a song, and we may, own with him that\n\n     \"Au peuple attriste\n     Ce qui rendra la gaite,\n     C'est la GAUDRIOLE!\n     O gue!\n     C'est la GAUDRIOLE!\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE O.P. MANIA.\n\n     And these things bred a great combustion in the town.\n     Wagstaffe's \"Apparition of Mother Haggis.\"\n\nThe acrimonious warfare carried on for a length of time by the playgoers\nof London against the proprietors of Covent-Garden Theatre, is one of\nthe most singular instances upon record of the small folly which will\nsometimes pervade a multitude of intelligent men. Carried on at first\nfrom mere obstinacy by a few, and afterwards for mingled obstinacy and\nfrolic by a greater number, it increased at last to such a height, that\nthe sober dwellers in the provinces held up their hands in astonishment,\nand wondered that the people of London should be such fools. As much\nfirmness and perseverance displayed in a better cause, might have\nachieved important triumphs; and we cannot but feel regret, in recording\nthis matter, that so much good and wholesome energy should have been\nthrown away on so unworthy an object. But we will begin with the\nbeginning, and trace the O. P. mania from its source.\n\nOn the night of the 20th of September, 1808, the old theatre of\nCovent-Garden was totally destroyed by fire. Preparations were\nimmediately made for the erection of a more splendid edifice, and the\nmanagers, Harris and the celebrated John Philip Kemble, announced that\nthe new theatre should be without a rival in Europe. In less than\nthree months, the rubbish of the old building was cleared away, and the\nfoundation-stone of the new one laid with all due ceremony by the Duke\nof Sussex. With so much celerity were the works carried on that, in nine\nmonths more, the edifice was completed, both without and within. The\nopening night was announced for the 18th of September 1809, within two\ndays of a twelvemonth since the destruction of the original building.\n\nBut the undertaking had proved more expensive than the Committee\nanticipated. To render the pit entrance more commodious, it had been\ndeemed advisable to remove a low public-house that stood in the way.\nThis turned out a matter of no little difficulty, for the proprietor\nwas a man well skilled in driving a hard bargain. The more eager the\nCommittee showed themselves to come to terms with him for his miserable\npot-house, the more grasping he became in his demands for compensation.\nThey were ultimately obliged to pay him an exorbitant sum. Added to\nthis, the interior decorations were on the most costly scale; and Mrs.\nSiddons, and other members of the Kemble family, together with the\ncelebrated Italian singer, Madame Catalani, had been engaged at very\nhigh salaries. As the night of opening drew near, the Committee found\nthat they had gone a little beyond their means; and they issued a\nnotice, stating that, in consequence of the great expense they had been\nat in building the theatre, and the large salaries they had agreed to\npay, to secure the services of the most eminent actors, they were under\nthe necessity of fixing the prices of admission at seven shillings to\nthe boxes and four shillings to the pit, instead of six shillings and\nthree and sixpence, as heretofore.\n\nThis announcement created the greatest dissatisfaction. The boxes might\nhave borne the oppression, but the dignity of the pit was wounded. A\nwar-cry was raised immediately. For some weeks previous to the opening,\na continual clatter was kept up in clubs and coffee-rooms, against\nwhat was considered a most unconstitutional aggression on the rights of\nplay-going man. The newspapers assiduously kept up the excitement, and\nrepresented, day after day, to the managers the impolicy of the proposed\nadvance. The bitter politics of the time were disregarded, and Kemble\nand Covent-Garden became as great sources of interest as Napoleon and\nFrance. Public attention was the more fixed upon the proceedings at\nCovent-Garden, since it was the only patent theatre then in existence,\nDrury-Lane theatre having also been destroyed by fire in the month of\nFebruary previous. But great as was the indignation of the lovers of\nthe drama at that time, no one could have anticipated the extraordinary\nlengths to which opposition would be carried.\n\nFirst Night, September 20th.--The performances announced were the\ntragedy of \"Macbeth\" and the afterpiece of \"The Quaker.\" The house was\nexcessively crowded (the pit especially) with persons who had gone\nfor no other purpose than to make a disturbance. They soon discovered\nanother grievance to add to the list. The whole of the lower, and\nthree-fourths of the upper tier of boxes, were let out for the season;\nso that those who had paid at the door for a seat in the boxes, were\nobliged to mount to a level with the gallery. Here they were stowed into\nboxes which, from their size and shape, received the contemptuous, and\nnot inappropriate designation of pigeon-holes. This was considered in\nthe light of a new aggression upon established rights; and long before\nthe curtain drew up, the managers might have heard in their green-room\nthe indignant shouts of \"Down with the pigeon-holes!\"--\"Old prices for\never!\" Amid this din the curtain rose, and Mr. Kemble stood forward to\ndeliver a poetical address in honour of the occasion. The riot now began\nin earnest; not a word of the address was audible, from the stamping\nand groaning of the people in the pit. This continued, almost without\nintermission, through the five acts of the tragedy. Now and then, the\nsublime acting of Mrs. Siddons, as \"the awful woman,\" hushed the noisy\nmultitude into silence, in spite of themselves: but it was only for a\nmoment; the recollection of their fancied wrongs made them ashamed of\ntheir admiration, and they shouted and hooted again more vigorously\nthan before. The comedy of Munden in the afterpiece met with no better\nreception; not a word was listened to, and the curtain fell amid still\nincreasing uproar and shouts of \"Old prices!\" Some magistrates, who\nhappened to be present, zealously came to the rescue, and appeared on\nthe stage with copies of the Riot Act. This ill-judged proceeding made\nthe matter worse. The men of the pit were exasperated by the indignity,\nand strained their lungs to express how deeply they felt it. Thus\nremained the war till long after midnight, when the belligerents\nwithdrew from sheer exhaustion.\n\nSecond Night.--The crowd was not so great; all those who had gone on the\nprevious evening to listen to the performances, now stayed away, and the\nrioters had it nearly all to themselves. With the latter, \"the play was\nnot the thing,\" and Macheath and Polly sang in \"The Beggar's Opera\"\nin vain. The actors and the public appeared to have changed sides--the\naudience acted, and the actors listened. A new feature of this night's\nproceedings was the introduction of placards. Several were displayed\nfrom the pit and boxes, inscribed in large letters with the words, \"Old\nprices.\" With a view of striking terror, the constables who had been\nplentifully introduced into the house, attacked the placard-bearers, and\nsucceeded, after several severe battles, in dragging off a few of them\nto the neighbouring watch-house, in Bow Street. Confusion now became\nworse and worse confounded. The pitites screamed themselves hoarse;\nwhile, to increase the uproar, some mischievous frequenters of the upper\nregions squeaked through dozens of cat-calls, till the combined noise\nwas enough to blister every tympanum in the house.\n\nThird Night.--The appearance of several gentlemen in the morning at\nthe bar of the Bow Street police office, to answer for their riotous\nconduct, had been indignantly commented upon during the day. All augured\nill for the quiet of the night. The performances announced were \"Richard\nthe Third\" and \"The Poor Soldier,\" but the popularity of the tragedy\ncould not obtain it a hearing. The pitites seemed to be drawn into\ncloser union by the attacks made upon them, and to act more in concert\nthan on the previous nights. The placards were, also, more numerous; not\nonly the pit, but the boxes and galleries exhibited them. Among the most\nconspicuous, was one inscribed, \"John Bull against John Kemble.--Who'll\nwin?\" Another bore \"King George for ever! but no King Kemble.\" A third\nwas levelled against Madame Catalani, whose large salary was supposed\nto be one of the causes of the increased prices, and was inscribed\n\"No foreigners to tax us--we're taxed enough already.\" This last was a\ndouble-barrelled one, expressing both dramatic and political discontent,\nand was received with loud cheers by the pitites.\n\nThe tragedy and afterpiece were concluded full two hours before their\nregular time; and the cries for Mr. Kemble became so loud, that the\nmanager thought proper to obey the summons. Amid all these scenes of\nuproar he preserved his equanimity, and was never once betrayed into\nany expression of petulance or anger. With some difficulty he obtained\na hearing. He entered into a detail of the affairs of the theatre,\nassuring the audience at the same time of the solicitude of the\nproprietors to accommodate themselves to the public wish. This was\nreceived with some applause, as it was thought at first to manifest a\nwillingness to come back to the old prices, and the pit eagerly waited\nfor the next sentence, that was to confirm their hopes. That sentence\nwas never uttered, for Mr. Kemble, folding his arms majestically, added,\nin his deep tragic voice, \"Ladies and Gentlemen, I wait here to know\nwhat you want!\" Immediately the uproar was renewed, and became so\ntremendous and so deafening, that the manager, seeing the uselessness of\nfurther parley, made his bow and retired.\n\nA gentleman then rose in the boxes and requested a hearing. He obtained\nit without difficulty. He began by inveighing in severe terms against\nthe pretended ignorance of Mr. Kemble, in asking them so offensively\nwhat they wanted, and concluded by exhorting the people never to cease\ntheir opposition until they brought down the prices to their old level.\nThe speaker, whose name was understood to be Leigh, then requested a\ncheer for the actors, to show that no disrespect was intended them. The\ncheer was given immediately.\n\nA barrister of the name of Smythe then rose to crave another hearing for\nMr. Kemble. The manager stood forth again, calm, unmoved, and severe.\n\"Ladies and gentlemen,\" said he, \"I wait here to know your wishes.\" Mr.\nLeigh, who took upon himself, \"for that night only,\" the character of\npopular leader, said, the only reply he could give was one in three\nwords, \"the old prices.\" Hereat the shouts of applause again rose, till\nthe building rang. Still serene amid the storm, the manager endeavoured\nto enter into explanations. The men of the pit would hear nothing of\nthe sort. They wanted entire and absolute acquiescence. Less would not\nsatisfy them; and, as Mr. Kemble only wished to explain, they would not\nhear a word. He finally withdrew amid a noise to which Babel must have\nbeen comparatively silent.\n\nFourth night.--The rioters were more obstinate than ever. The noises\nwere increased by the addition of whistles, bugle-horns, and watchmen's\nrattles, sniffling, snorting, and clattering from all parts of the\nhouse. Human lungs were taxed to the uttermost, and the stamping on the\nfloor raised such a dust as to render all objects but dimly visible. In\nplacards, too, there was greater variety. The loose wits of the town had\nall day been straining their ingenuity to invent new ones. Among them\nwere, \"Come forth, O Kemble! come forth and tremble!\" \"Foolish John\nKemble, we'll make you tremble!\" and \"No cats! no Catalani! English\nactors for ever!\"\n\nThose who wish to oppose a mob successfully, should never lose their\ntemper. It is a proof of weakness which masses of people at once\nperceive, and never fail to take advantage of. Thus, when the managers\nunwisely resolved to fight the mob with their own weapons, it only\nincreased the opposition it was intended to allay. A dozen pugilists,\ncommanded by a notorious boxer of the day, were introduced into the\npit, to use the argumentum ad hominem to the rioters. Continual scuffles\nensued: but the invincible resolution of the playgoers would not allow\nthem to quail; it rather aroused them to renewed opposition, and a\ndetermination never to submit or yield. It also strengthened their\ncause, by affording them further ground of complaint against the\nmanagers.\n\nThe performances announced on the bills were the opera of \"Love in a\nVillage,\" and \"Who wins?\" but the bills had it all to themselves, for\nneither actors nor public were much burthened with them. The latter,\nindeed, afforded some sport. The title was too apt to the occasion to\nescape notice, and shouts of \"Who wins? who wins?\" displaced for a time\nthe accustomed cry of old prices.\n\nAfter the fall of the curtain, Mr. Leigh, with another gentleman, again\nspoke, complaining bitterly of the introduction of the prize-fighters,\nand exhorting the public never to give in. Mr. Kemble was again called\nforward; but when he came, the full tide of discord ran so strongly\nagainst him that, being totally unable to stem it, he withdrew. Each\nman seemed to shout as if he had been a Stentor; and when his lungs were\nwearied, took to his feet and stamped, till all the black coats in his\nvicinity became grey with dust. At last the audience were tired out, and\nthe theatre was closed before eleven o'clock.\n\nFifth night.--The play was Coleman's amusing comedy of \"John Bull.\"\nThere was no diminution of the uproar. Every note on the diapason of\ndiscord was run through. The prize-fighters, or hitites as they were\ncalled, mustered in considerable numbers, and the battles between them\nand the pitites were fierce and many. It was now, for the first time,\nthat the letters O.P. came into general use as an abbreviation of\nthe accustomed watchword of old prices. Several placards were thus\ninscribed; and, as brevity is so desirable in shouting, the mob adopted\nthe emendation. As usual, the manager was called for. After some delay\nhe came forward, and was listened to with considerable patience. He\nrepeated, in respectful terms, the great loss that would be occasioned\nto the proprietors by a return to the old prices, and offered to submit\na statement of their accounts to the eminent lawyers, Sir Vicary Gibbs\nand Sir Thomas Plumer; the eminent merchants, Sir Francis Baring and Mr.\nAngerstein; and Mr. Whitmore, the Governor of the Bank of England. By\ntheir decision as to the possibility of carrying on the theatre at the\nold prices, he would consent to be governed, and he hoped the public\nwould do the same. This reasonable proposition was scouted immediately.\nNot even the high and reputable names he had mentioned were thought to\nafford any guarantee for impartiality. The pitites were too wrong-headed\nto abate one iota of their pretensions; and they had been too much\ninsulted by the prize-fighters in the manager's pay, to show any\nconsideration for him, or agree to any terms he might propose. They\nwanted full acquiescence, and nothing less. Thus the conference broke\noff, and the manager retired amid a storm of hisses.\n\nAn Irish gentleman, named O'Reilly, then stood up in one of the boxes.\nWith true Irish gallantry, he came to the rescue of an ill-used lady.\nHe said he was disgusted at the attacks made upon Madame Catalani, the\nfinest singer in the world, and a lady inestimable in private life. It\nwas unjust, unmanly, and un-English to make the innocent suffer for the\nguilty; and he hoped this blot would be no longer allowed to stain a\nfair cause. As to the quarrel with the manager, he recommended them\nto persevere. They were not only wronged by his increased prices, but\ninsulted by his boxers, and he hoped, that before they had done with\nhim, they would teach him a lesson he would not soon forget. The gallant\nHibernian soon became a favourite, and sat down amid loud cheers.\n\nSixth night.--No signs of a cessation of hostilities on the one side, or\nof a return to the old prices on the other. The playgoers seemed to grow\nmore united as the managers grew more obstinate. The actors had by far\nthe best time of it; for they were spared nearly all the labour of their\nparts, and merely strutted on the stage to see how matters went on,\nand then strutted off again. Notwithstanding the remonstrance of Mr.\nO'Reilly on the previous night, numerous placards reflecting upon Madame\nCatalani were exhibited. One was inscribed with the following doggrel:--\n\n     \"Seventeen thousand a-year goes pat,\n     To Kemble, his sister, and Madame Cat.\"\n\nOn another was displayed, in large letters, \"No compromise, old prices,\nand native talent!\" Some of these were stuck against the front of the\nboxes, and others were hoisted from the pit on long poles. The following\nspecimens will suffice to show the spirit of them; wit they had none,\nor humour either, although when they were successively exhibited, they\nelicited roars of laughter:--\n\n     \"John Kemble alone is the cause of this riot;\n     When he lowers his prices, John Bull will be quiet.\"\n\n     \"John Kemble be damn'd,\n     We will not be cramm'd.\"\n\n     \"Squire Kemble\n     Begins to tremble.\"\n\nThe curtain fell as early as nine o'clock, when there being loud calls\nfor Mr. Kemble, he stood forward. He announced that Madame Catalani,\nagainst whom so unjustifiable a prejudice had been excited, had thrown\nup her engagement rather than stand in the way of any accommodation\nof existing differences. This announcement was received with\ngreat applause. Mr. Kemble then went on to vindicate himself and\nco-proprietors from the charge of despising public opinion. No\nassertion, he assured them, could be more unjust. They were sincerely\nanxious to bring these unhappy differences to a close, and he thought he\nhad acted in the most fair and reasonable manner in offering to submit\nthe accounts to an impartial committee, whose decision, and the grounds\nfor it, should be fully promulgated. This speech was received with\ncheering, but interrupted at the close by some individuals, who objected\nto any committee of the manager's nomination. This led to a renewal of\nthe uproar, and it was some time before silence could be obtained. When,\nat last, he was able to make himself heard, he gave notice, that until\nthe decision of the committee had been drawn up, the theatre should\nremain closed. Immediately every person in the pit stood up, and a long\nshout of triumph resounded through the house, which was heard at the\nextremity of Bow Street. As if this result had been anticipated, a\nplacard was at the same moment hoisted, inscribed, \"Here lies the body\nof NEW PRICE, an ugly brat and base born, who expired on the 23rd of\nSeptember 1809, aged six days.--Requiescat in pace!\"\n\nMr. Kemble then retired, and the pitites flung up their hats in the air,\nor sprang over the benches, shouting and hallooing in the exuberance of\ntheir joy; and thus ended the first act of this popular farce.\n\nThe committee ultimately chosen differed from that first named, Alderman\nSir Charles Price, Bart. and Mr. Silvester, the Recorder of London,\nbeing substituted for Sir Francis Baring and Sir Vicary Gibbs. In a few\ndays they had examined the multitudinous documents of the theatre,\nand agreed to a report which was published in all the newspapers,\nand otherwise distributed. They stated the average profits of the six\npreceding years at 6 and 3/8 per cent, being only 1 and 3/8 per cent.\nbeyond the legal interest of money, to recompense the proprietors for\nall their care and enterprise. Under the new prices they would receive\n3 and 1/2 per cent. profit; but if they returned to the old prices, they\nwould suffer a loss of fifteen shillings per cent. upon their capital.\nUnder these circumstances, they could do no other than recommend the\nproprietors to continue the new prices.\n\nThis report gave no satisfaction. It certainly convinced the reasonable,\nbut they, unfortunately, were in a minority of one to ten. The managers,\ndisregarding the outcry that it excited, advertised the recommencement\nof the performances for Wednesday the 4th of October following. They\nendeavoured to pack the house with their friends, but the sturdy O.P.\nmen were on the alert, and congregated in the pit in great numbers.\nThe play was \"The Beggar's Opera,\" but, as on former occasions, it\nwas wholly inaudible. The noises were systematically arranged, and\nthe actors, seeing how useless it was to struggle against the popular\nfeeling, hurried over their parts as quickly as they could, and the\ncurtain fell shortly after nine o'clock. Once more the manager essayed\nthe difficult task of convincing madness by appealing to reason. As soon\nas the din of the rattles and post-horns would permit him to speak, he\nsaid, he would throw himself on the fairness of the most enlightened\nmetropolis in the world. He was sure, however strongly they might\nfeel upon the subject, they would not be accessory to the ruin of\nthe theatre, by insisting upon a return to the former prices.\nNotwithstanding the little sop he had thrown out to feed the vanity of\nthis roaring Cerberus, the only answer he received was a renewal of\nthe noise, intermingled with shouts of \"Hoax! hoax! imposition!\" Mr.\nO'Reilly, the gallant friend of Madame Catalani, afterwards addressed\nthe pit, and said no reliance could be placed on the report of the\ncommittee. The profits of the theatre were evidently great: they had\nsaved the heavy salary of Madame Catalani; and by shutting out the\npublic from all the boxes but the pigeon-holes, they made large\nsums. The first and second tiers were let at high rents to notorious\ncourtesans, several of whom he then saw in the house; and it was clear\nthat the managers preferred a large revenue from this impure source to\nthe reasonable profits they would receive from respectable people. Loud\ncheers greeted this speech; every eye was turned towards the boxes, and\nthe few ladies in them immediately withdrew. At the same moment, some\ninveterate petite hoisted a large placard, on which was inscribed,\n\n     \"We lads of the pit\n     Will never submit.\"\n\nSeveral others were introduced. One of them was a caricature likeness of\nMr. Kemble, asking, \"What do you want?\" with a pitite replying, \"The old\nprices, and no pigeon-holes!\" Others merely bore the drawing of a large\nkey, in allusion to a notorious house in the neighbourhood, the denizens\nof which were said to be great frequenters of the private boxes. These\nappeared to give the managers more annoyance than all the rest, and the\nprize-fighters made vigorous attacks upon the holders of them. Several\npersons were, on this night, and indeed nearly every night, taken\ninto custody, and locked up in the watchhouse. On their appearance the\nfollowing morning, they were generally held to bail in considerable sums\nto keep the peace. This proceeding greatly augmented the animosity of\nthe pit.\n\nIt would be useless to detail the scenes of confusion which followed\nnight after night. For about three weeks the war continued with unabated\nfury. Its characteristics were nearly always the same. Invention was\nracked to discover new noises, and it was thought a happy idea when\none fellow got into the gallery with a dustman's bell, and rang it\nfuriously. Dogs were also brought into the boxes, to add their sweet\nvoices to the general uproar. The animals seemed to join in it con\namore, and one night a large mastiff growled and barked so loudly, as to\ndraw down upon his exertions three cheers from the gratified pitites.\n\nSo strong did the popular enthusiasm run in favour of the row, that\nwell-dressed ladies appeared in the boxes with the letters O. P. on\ntheir bonnets. O. P. hats for the gentlemen were still more common,\nand some were so zealous in the cause, as to sport waistcoats with an\nO embroidered upon one flap and a P on the other. O.P. toothpicks were\nalso in fashion; and gentlemen and ladies carried O.P. handkerchiefs,\nwhich they waved triumphantly whenever the row was unusually deafening.\nThe latter suggested the idea of O. P. flags, which were occasionally\nunfurled from the gallery to the length of a dozen feet. Sometimes the\nfirst part of the night's performances were listened to with comparative\npatience, a majority of the manager's friends being in possession of the\nhouse. But as soon as the half-price commenced, the row began again\nin all its pristine glory. At the fall of the curtain it soon became\ncustomary to sing \"God save the King,\" the whole of the O.P.'s joining\nin loyal chorus. Sometimes this was followed by \"Rule Britannia;\" and,\non two or three occasions, by a parody of the national anthem, which\nexcited great laughter. A verse may not be uninteresting as a specimen.\n\n     \"O Johnny Bull, be true,\n     Confound the prices new,\n     And make them fall!\n     Curse Kemble's politics,\n     Frustrate his knavish tricks,\n     On thee our hopes we fix,\n     T' upset them all!\"\n\nThis done, they scrambled over the benches, got up sham fights in\nthe pit, or danced the famous O.P. dance. The latter may as well be\ndescribed here: half a dozen, or a dozen fellows formed in a ring, and\nstamped alternately with the right and left foot, calling out at regular\nintervals, O. P.--O. P. with a drawling and monotonous sound. This\nuniformly lasted till the lights were put out, when the rioters\nwithdrew, generally in gangs of ten or twenty, to defend themselves from\nsudden attacks on the part of the constables.\n\nAn idea seemed about this time to break in upon them, that\nnotwithstanding the annoyance they caused the manager, they were aiding\nto fill his coffers. This was hinted at in some of the newspapers, and\nthe consequence was, that many stayed away to punish him, if possible,\nunder the silent system. But this did not last long. The love of\nmischief was as great an incentive to many of them as enmity to the\nnew prices. Accidental circumstances also contributed to disturb the\ntemporary calm. At the Westminster quarter-sessions, on the 27th of\nOctober, bills of indictment were preferred against forty-one persons\nfor creating a disturbance and interrupting the performances of the\ntheatre. The grand jury ignored twenty-seven of the bills, left two\nundecided, and found true bills against twelve. The latter exercised\ntheir right of traverse till the ensuing sessions. The preferment of\nthese bills had the effect of re-awakening the subsiding excitement.\nAnother circumstance about the same time gave a still greater impetus to\nit, and furnished the rioters with a chief, round whom they were eager\nto rally. Mr. Clifford, a barrister, appeared in the pit on the night of\nthe 31st of October, with the letters O. P. on his hat. Being a man of\nsome note, he was pounced upon by the constables, and led off to Bow\nStreet police office, where Brandon, the box-keeper, charged him with\nriotous and disorderly conduct. This was exactly what Clifford wanted.\nHe told the presiding magistrate, a Mr. Read, that he had purposely\ndisplayed the letters on his hat, in order that the question of right\nmight be determined before a competent tribunal. He denied that he\nhad committed any offence, and seemed to manifest so intimate an\nacquaintance with the law upon the subject, that the magistrate,\nconvinced by his reasoning, ordered his immediate dismissal, and stated\nthat he had been taken into custody without the slightest grounds. The\nresult was made known in the theatre a few minutes afterwards, where\nMr. Clifford, on his appearance victorious, was received with reiterated\nhuzzas. On his leaving the house, he was greeted by a mob of five or\nsix hundred persons, who had congregated outside to do him honour as he\npassed. From that night the riots may be said to have recommenced, and\n\"Clifford and O. P.\" became the rallying cry of the party. The officious\nbox-keeper became at the same time the object of the popular dislike,\nand the contempt with which the genius and fine qualities of Mr. Kemble\nwould not permit them to regard him, was fastened upon his underling.\nSo much ill-feeling was directed towards the latter, that at this time a\nreturn to the old prices, unaccompanied by his dismissal, would not have\nmade the manager's peace with the pitites.\n\nIn the course of the few succeeding weeks, during which the riots\ncontinued with undiminished fury, O. P. medals were struck, and worn in\ngreat numbers in the theatre. A few of the ultra-zealous even wore\nthem in the streets. A new fashion also came into favour for hats,\nwaistcoats, and handkerchiefs, on which the mark, instead of the\nseparate letters O and P, was a large O, with a small P in the middle of\nit: thus,\n\n     xxxxxxxxx\n     x       x\n     x  xxx  x\n     x  x x  x\n     x  xxx  x\n     x  x    x\n     x  x    x\n     x       x\n     xxxxxxxxx\n\nThe managers, seeing that Mr. Clifford was so identified with the\nrioters, determined to make him responsible. An action was accordingly\nbrought against him and other defendants in the Court of King's Bench.\nOn the 20th of November, the Attorney-general moved, before Lord\nEllenborough, for a rule to show cause why a criminal information should\nnot be filed against Clifford for unlawfully conspiring with certain\nothers to intimidate the proprietors of Covent-Garden Theatre, and force\nthem, to their loss and detriment, to lower their prices of admission.\nThe rule was granted, and an early day fixed for the trial. In the mean\ntime, these proceedings kept up the acerbity of the O. P.s, and every\nnight at the fall of the curtain, three groans were given for John\nKemble and three cheers for John Bull.\n\nIt was during this year that the national Jubilee was celebrated, in\nhonour of the fiftieth year of the reign of George III. When the riots\nhad reached their fiftieth night, the O. P.s also determined to have a\njubilee. All their previous efforts in the way of roaring, great as they\nwere, were this night outdone, and would have continued long after \"the\nwee short hour,\" had not the managers wisely put the extinguisher upon\nthem and the lights about eleven o'clock.\n\nPending the criminal prosecution against himself, Mr. Clifford brought\nan action for false imprisonment against Brandon. The cause was fixed\nfor trial in the Court of Common Pleas, on the 5th of December, before\nLord Chief-Justice Mansfield. From an early hour in the morning all the\navenues leading to the court were thronged with an eager multitude;\nall London was in anxiety for the resuit. So dense was the crowd, that\ncounsel found the greatest difficulty in making their way into court.\nMr. Sergeant Best was retained on the part of the plaintiff, and Mr.\nSergeant Shepherd for the defence. The defendant put two pleas upon\nthe record; first, that he was not guilty, and secondly, that he was\njustified. Sergeant Best, in stating the plaintiff's case, blamed the\nmanagers for all the disturbances that had taken place, and contended\nthat his client, in affixing the letters O. P. to his hat, was not\nguilty of any offence. Even if he had joined in the noises, which he had\nnot, his so doing would not subject him to the penalties for rioting.\nSeveral witnesses were then called to prove the capture of Mr. Clifford,\nthe hearing of the case before the magistrate at Bow Street, and his\nultimate dismissal. Sergeant Shepherd was heard at great length on the\nother side, and contended that his client was perfectly justified in\ntaking into custody a man who was inciting others to commit a breach of\nthe peace.\n\nThe Lord Chief-Justice summed up, with an evident bias in favour of the\ndefendant. He said an undue apprehension of the rights of an audience\nhad got abroad. Even supposing the object of the rioters to be fair and\nlegal, they were not authorized to carry it by unfair means. In order to\nconstitute a riot, it was not necessary that personal violence should be\ncommitted, and it seemed to him that the defendant had not acted in an\nimproper manner in giving into custody a person who, by the display of a\nsymbol, was encouraging others to commit a riot.\n\nThe jury retired to consider their verdict. The crowd without and within\nthe court awaited the result in feverish suspense. Half an hour elapsed,\nwhen the jury returned with a verdict for the plaintiff--Damages,\nfive pounds. The satisfaction of the spectators was evident upon their\ncountenances, that of the judge expressed the contrary feeling. Turning\nto the foreman of the jury, his Lordship asked upon which of the two\npoints referred to them, namely, the broad question, whether a riot\nhad been committed, and, if committed, whether the plaintiff had\nparticipated in it, they had found their verdict?\n\nThe foreman stated, that they were all of opinion generally that the\nplaintiff had been illegally arrested. This vague answer did not satisfy\nhis Lordship, and he repeated his question. He could not, however,\nobtain a more satisfactory reply. Evidently vexed at what he deemed the\nobtuseness or partiality of the jury, he turned to the bar, and said,\nthat a spirit of a mischievous and destructive nature was abroad, which,\nif not repressed, threatened awful consequences. The country would be\nlost, he said, and the government overturned, if such a spirit were\nencouraged; it was impossible it could end in good. Time, the destroyer\nand fulfiller of predictions, has proved that his Lordship was a false\nprophet. The harmless O. P. war has been productive of no such dire\nresults.\n\nIt was to be expected that after this triumph, the war in the pit would\nrage with redoubled acrimony. A riot beginning at half-price would\nnot satisfy the excited feelings of the O. P.s on the night of such\na victory. Long before the curtain drew up, the house was filled with\nthem, and several placards were exhibited, which the constables and\nfriends of the managers strove, as usual, to tear into shreds. One of\nthem, which met this fate, was inscribed, \"Success to O.P.! A British\njury for ever!\" It was soon replaced by another of a similar purport. It\nis needless to detail the uproar that ensued; the jumping, the fighting,\nthe roaring, and the howling. For nine nights more the same system was\ncontinued; but the end was at hand.\n\nOn the 14th a grand dinner was given at the Crown and Anchor tavern, to\ncelebrate the victory of Mr. Clifford. \"The reprobators of managerial\ninsolence,\" as they called themselves, attended in considerable numbers;\nand Mr. Clifford was voted to the chair. The cloth had been removed, and\na few speeches made, when the company were surprised by a message that\ntheir arch-enemy himself solicited the honour of an audience. It was\nsome time ere they could believe that Mr. Kemble had ventured to such a\nplace. After some parley the manager was admitted, and a conference was\nheld. A treaty was ultimately signed and sealed, which put an end to the\nlong-contested wars of O.P., and restored peace to the drama.\n\nAll this time the disturbance proceeded at the theatre with its usual\nspirit. It was now the sixty-sixth night of its continuance, and the\nrioters were still untired--still determined to resist to the last.\nIn the midst of it a gentleman arrived from the Crown and Anchor, and\nannounced to the pit that Mr. Kemble had attended the dinner, and had\nyielded at last to the demand of the public. He stated, that it had\nbeen agreed upon between him and the Committee for defending the persons\nunder prosecution, that the boxes should remain at the advanced price;\nthat the pit should be reduced to three shillings and sixpence; that the\nprivate boxes should be done away with; and that all prosecutions, on\nboth sides, should be immediately stayed. This announcement was received\nwith deafening cheers. As soon as the first burst of enthusiasm was\nover, the O. P.s became anxious for a confirmation of the intelligence,\nand commenced a loud call for Mr. Kemble. He had not then returned from\nthe Crown and Anchor; but of this the pitites were not aware, and for\nnearly half an hour they kept up a most excruciating din. At length the\ngreat actor made his appearance, in his walking dress, with his cane\nin hand, as he had left the tavern. It was a long time before he\ncould obtain silence. He apologized in the most respectful terms for\nappearing before them in such unbecoming costume, which was caused\nsolely by his ignorance that he should have to appear before them that\nnight. After announcing, as well as occasional interruptions would\nallow, the terms that had been agreed upon, he added, \"In order that\nno trace or recollection of the past differences, which had unhappily\nprevailed so long, should remain, he was instructed by the proprietors\nto say, that they most sincerely lamented the course that had been\npursued, and engaged that, on their parts, all legal proceedings should\nforthwith be put a stop to.\" The cheering which greeted this speech\nwas interrupted at the close by loud cries from the pit of\n\"Dismiss Brandon,\" while one or two exclaimed, \"We want old prices\ngenerally,--six shillings for the boxes.\" After an ineffectual attempt\nto address them again upon this point, Mr. Kemble made respectful and\nrepeated obeisances, and withdrew. The noises still continued, until\nMunden stood forward, leading by the hand the humbled box-keeper,\ncontrition in his looks, and in his hands a written apology, which he\nendeavoured to read. The uproar was increased threefold by his presence,\nand, amid cries of \"We won't hear him!\" \"Where's his master?\" he\nwas obliged to retire. Mr. Harris, the son of Kemble's co-manager,\nafterwards endeavoured to propitiate the audience in his favour; but\nit was of no avail; nothing less than his dismissal would satisfy the\noffended majesty of the pit. Amid this uproar the curtain finally fell,\nand the O. P. dance was danced for the last time within the walls of\nCovent Garden.\n\nOn the following night it was announced that Brandon had resigned his\nsituation. This turned the tide of popular ill-will. The performances\nwere \"The Wheel of Fortune,\" and an afterpiece. The house was crowded\nto excess; a desire to be pleased was manifest on every countenance,\nand when Mr. Kemble, who took his favourite character of Penruddock,\nappeared upon the stage, he was greeted with the most vehement applause.\nThe noises ceased entirely, and the symbols of opposition disappeared.\nThe audience, hushed into attention, gave vent to no sounds but those of\nadmiration for the genius of the actor. When, in the course of his part,\nhe repeated the words, \"So! I am in London again!\" the aptness of the\nexpression to the circumstances of the night, was felt by all present,\nand acknowledged by a round of boisterous and thrice repeated cheering.\nIt was a triumphant scene for Mr. Kemble after his long annoyances. He\nhad achieved a double victory. He had, not only as a manager, soothed\nthe obstinate opposition of the play-goers, but as an actor he had\nforced from one of the largest audiences he had ever beheld, approbation\nmore cordial and unanimous than he had ever enjoyed before. The popular\nfavour not only turned towards him; it embraced everybody connected\nwith the theatre, except the poor victim, Brandon. Most of the favourite\nactors were called before the curtain to make their bow, and receive\nthe acclamations of the pit. At the close of the performances, a few\nindividuals, implacable and stubborn, got up a feeble cry of \"Old prices\nfor the boxes;\" but they were quickly silenced by the reiterated cheers\nof the majority, or by cries of \"Turn them out!\" A placard, the last\nof its race, was at the same time exhibited in the front of the pit,\nbearing, in large letters, the words \"We are satisfied.\"\n\nThus ended the famous wars of O. P., which, for a period of nearly three\nmonths, had kept the metropolis in an uproar. And after all, what was\nthe grand result? As if the whole proceeding had been a parody upon the\nmore destructive, but scarcely more sensible wars recorded in history,\nit was commenced in injustice, carried on in bitterness of spirit, and\nended, like the labour of the mountain, in a mouse. The abatement of\nsixpence in the price of admission to the pit, and the dismissal of an\nunfortunate servant, whose only fault was too much zeal in the service\nof his employers,--such were the grand victories of the O. P.'s.\n\n\n\n\nTHE THUGS, or PHANSIGARS.\n\n     Orribili favelle--parole di dolor.--DANTE.\n\nAmong the black deeds which Superstition has imposed as duties upon\nher wretched votaries, none are more horrible than the practices of the\nmurderers, who, under the name of Thugs, or Phansigars, have so long\nbeen the scourge of India. For ages they have pursued their dark and\ndreadful calling, moulding assassination into a science, or extolling it\nas a virtue, worthy only to be practised by a race favoured of Heaven.\nOf late years this atrocious delusion has excited much attention, both\nin this country and in India; an attention which, it is to be hoped,\nwill speedily lead to the uprooting of a doctrine so revolting and\nanti-human. Although the British Government has extended over Hindostan\nfor so long a period, it does not appear that Europeans even suspected\nthe existence of this mysterious sect until the commencement of the\npresent century. In the year 1807, a gang of Thugs, laden with the\nplunder of murdered travellers, was accidentally discovered. The\ninquiries then set on foot revealed to the astonished Government a\nsystem of iniquity unparalleled in the history of man. Subsequent\ninvestigation extended the knowledge; and by throwing light upon the\npeculiar habits of the murderers, explained the reason why their crimes\nhad remained so long undiscovered. In the following pages will be found\nan epitome of all the information which has reached Europe concerning\nthem, derived principally from Dr. Sherwood's treatise upon the subject,\npublished in 1816, and the still more valuable and more recent work of\nMr. Sleeman, entitled the \"Ramaseeana; or, Vocabulary of the peculiar\nLanguage of the Thugs.\"\n\nThe followers of this sect are called Thugs, or T'hugs, and their\nprofession Thuggee. In the south of India they are called Phansigars:\nthe former word signifying \"a deceiver;\" and the latter, \"a strangler.\"\nThey are both singularly appropriate. The profession of Thuggee is\nhereditary, and embraces, it is supposed, in every part of India, a\nbody of at least ten thousand individuals, trained to murder from their\nchildhood; carrying it on in secret and in silence, yet glorying in it,\nand holding the practice of it higher than any earthly honour. During\nthe winter months, they usually follow some reputable calling, to elude\nsuspicion; and in the summer, they set out in gangs over all the roads\nof India, to plunder and destroy. These gangs generally contain from ten\nto forty Thugs, and sometimes as many as two hundred. Each strangler is\nprovided with a noose, to despatch the unfortunate victim, as the Thugs\nmake it a point never to cause death by any other means. When the gangs\nare very large, they divide into smaller bodies; and each taking a\ndifferent route, they arrive at the same general place of rendezvous to\ndivide the spoil. They sometimes travel in the disguise of respectable\ntraders; sometimes as sepoys or native soldiers; and at others, as\ngovernment officers. If they chance to fall in with an unprotected\nwayfarer, his fate is certain. One Thug approaches him from behind, and\nthrows the end of a sash round his neck; the other end is seized by a\nsecond at the same instant, crossed behind the neck, and drawn tightly,\nwhile with their other hand the two Thugs thrust his head forward to\nexpedite the strangulation: a third Thug seizes the traveller by the\nlegs at the same moment, and he is thrown to the ground, a corpse before\nhe reaches it.\n\nBut solitary travellers are not the prey they are anxious to seek. A\nwealthy caravan of forty or fifty individuals has not unfrequently been\ndestroyed by them; not one soul being permitted to escape. Indeed, there\nis hardly an instance upon record of any one's escape from their hands,\nso surely are their measures taken, and so well do they calculate\nbeforehand all the risks and difficulties of the undertaking.\nEach individual of the gang has his peculiar duty allotted to him.\nUpon-approaching a town, or serai, two or three, known as the Soothaes,\nor \"inveiglers,\" are sent in advance to ascertain if any travellers are\nthere; to learn, if possible, the amount of money or merchandize they\ncarry with them, their hours of starting in the morning, or any\nother particulars that may be of use. If they can, they enter into\nconversation with them, pretend to be travelling to the same place, and\npropose, for mutual security, to travel with them. This intelligence\nis duly communicated to the remainder of the gang. The place usually\nchosen for the murder is some lonely part of the road in the vicinity of\na jungle, and the time, just before dusk. At given signals, understood\nonly by themselves, the scouts of the party station themselves in the\nfront, in the rear, and on each side, to guard against surprise. A\nstrangler and assistant strangler, called Bhurtote and Shamshea, place\nthemselves, the one on the right, and the other on the left of the\nvictim, without exciting his suspicion. At another signal the noose\nis twisted, drawn tightly by a strong hand at each extremity, and the\ntraveller, in a few seconds, hurried into eternity. Ten, twelve, twenty,\nand in some instances, sixty persons have been thus despatched at the\nsame moment. Should any victim, by a rare chance, escape their hands, he\nfalls into those of the scouts who are stationed within hearing, who run\nupon him and soon overpower him.\n\nTheir next care is to dispose of the bodies. So cautious are they to\nprevent detection, that they usually break all the joints to hasten\ndecomposition. They then cut open the body to prevent it swelling in the\ngrave and causing fissures in the soil above, by which means the jackals\nmight be attracted to the spot, and thereby lead to discovery. When\nobliged to bury the body in a frequented district, they kindle a fire\nover the grave to obliterate the traces of the newly turned earth.\nSometimes the grave-diggers of the party, whose office, like that of\nall the rest, is hereditary, are despatched to make the graves in the\nmorning at some distant spot, by which it is known the travellers will\npass. The stranglers, in the mean time, journey quietly with their\nvictims, conversing with them in the most friendly manner. Towards\nnightfall they approach the spot selected for their murder; the signal\nis given, and they fall into the graves that have been ready for them\nsince day-break. On one occasion, related by Captain Sleeman, a party\nof fifty-nine people, consisting of fifty-two men and seven women, were\nthus simultaneously strangled, and thrown into the graves prepared for\nthem in the morning. Some of these travellers were on horseback and well\narmed, but the Thugs, who appear to have been upwards of two hundred\nin a gang, had provided against all risk of failure. The only one left\nalive of all that numerous party, was an infant four years old, who was\nafterwards initiated into all the mysteries of Thuggee.\n\nIf they cannot find a convenient opportunity for disposing of the\nbodies, they carry them for many miles, until they come to a spot\nsecure from intrusion, and to a soil adapted to receive them. If fear of\nputrefaction admonishes them to use despatch, they set up a large screen\nor tent, as other travellers do, and bury the body within the enclosure,\npretending, if inquiries are made, that their women are within. But this\nonly happens when they fall in with a victim unexpectedly. In murders\nwhich they have planned previously, the finding of a place of sepulture\nis never left to hazard.\n\nTravellers who have the misfortune to lodge in the same choultry or\nhostelry, as the Thugs, are often murdered during the night. It\nis either against their creed to destroy a sleeper, or they find\na difficulty in placing the noose round the neck of a person in a\nrecumbent position. When this is the case, the slumberer is suddenly\naroused by the alarm of a snake or a scorpion. He starts to his feet,\nand finds the fatal sash around his neck.--He never escapes.\n\nIn addition to these Thugs who frequent the highways, there are others,\nwho infest the rivers, and are called Pungoos. They do not differ in\ncreed, but only in a few of their customs, from their brethren on shore.\nThey go up and down the rivers in their own boats, pretending to be\ntravellers of consequence, or pilgrims, proceeding to, or returning from\nBenares, Allahabad, or other sacred places. The boatmen, who are also\nThugs, are not different in appearance from the ordinary boatmen on\nthe river. The artifices used to entice victims on board are precisely\nsimilar to those employed by the highway Thugs. They send out their\n\"inveiglers\" to scrape acquaintance with travellers, and find out the\ndirection in which they are journeying. They always pretend to be bound\nfor the same place, and vaunt the superior accommodation of the boat by\nwhich they are going. The travellers fall into the snare, are led to the\nThug captain, who very often, to allay suspicion, demurs to take them,\nbut eventually agrees for a moderate sum. The boat strikes off into the\nmiddle of the stream; the victims are amused and kept in conversation\nfor hours by their insidious foes, until three taps are given on the\ndeck above. This is a signal from the Thugs on the look-out that\nthe coast is clear. In an instant the fatal noose is ready, and\nthe travellers are no more. The bodies are then thrown, warm and\npalpitating, into the river, from a hole in the side of the boat,\ncontrived expressly for the purpose.\n\nA river Thug, who was apprehended, turned approver, to save his own\nlife, and gave the following evidence relative to the practices of his\nfraternity:--\"We embarked at Rajmahul. The travellers sat on one side\nof the boat, and the Thugs on the other; while we three (himself and two\n\"stranglers,\") were placed in the stern, the Thugs on our left, and the\ntravellers on our right. Some of the Thugs, dressed as boatmen, were\nabove deck, and others walking along the bank of the river, and pulling\nthe boat by the joon, or rope, and all, at the same time, on the\nlook-out. We came up with a gentleman's pinnace and two baggage-boats,\nand were obliged to stop, and let them go on. The travellers seemed\nanxious; but were quieted by being told that the men at the rope were\ntired, and must take some refreshment. They pulled out something, and\nbegan to eat; and when the pinnace had got on a good way, they resumed\ntheir work, and our boat proceeded. It was now afternoon; and, when\na signal was given above, that all was clear, the five Thugs who sat\nopposite the travellers sprang in upon them, and, with the aid of\nothers, strangled them. Having done this, they broke their spinal bones,\nand then threw them out of a hole made at the side, into the river, and\nkept on their course; the boat being all this time pulled along by the\nmen on the bank.\"\n\nThat such atrocities as these should have been carried on for nearly\ntwo centuries without exciting the attention of the British Government,\nseems incredible. But our wonder will be diminished when we reflect upon\nthe extreme caution of the Thugs, and the ordinary dangers of travelling\nin India. The Thugs never murder a man near his own home, and they never\ndispose of their booty near the scene of the murder. They also pay, in\ncommon with other and less atrocious robbers, a portion of their gains\nto the Polygars, or native authorities of the districts in which they\nreside, to secure protection. The friends and relatives of the victims,\nperhaps a thousand miles off, never surmise their fate till a period\nhas elapsed when all inquiry would be fruitless, or, at least, extremely\ndifficult. They have no clue to the assassins, and very often impute to\nthe wild beasts of the jungles the slaughter committed by that wilder\nbeast, man.\n\nThere are several gradations through which every member of the\nfraternity must regularly pass before he arrives at the high office of\na Bhurtote, or strangler. He is first employed as a scout--then as\na sexton--then as a Shumseea, or holder of hands, and lastly as a\nBhurtote. When a man who is not of Thug lineage, or who has not been\nbrought up from his infancy among them, wishes to become a strangler,\nhe solicits the oldest, and most pious and experienced Thug, to take him\nunder his protection and make him his disciple; and under his guidance\nhe is regularly initiated. When he has acquired sufficient experience\nin the lower ranks of the profession, he applies to his Gooroo, or\npreceptor, to give the finishing grace to his education, and make a\nstrangler of him. An opportunity is found when a solitary traveller is\nto be murdered; and the tyro, with his preceptor, having seen that\nthe proposed victim is asleep, and in safe keeping till their\nreturn, proceed to a neighbouring field and perform several religious\nceremonies, accompanied by three or four of the oldest and steadiest\nmembers of the gang. The Gooroo first offers up a prayer to the goddess,\nsaying, \"Oh, Kalee! Kun-kalee! Bhud-kalee! Oh, Kalee! Maha-kalee!\nCalkutta Walee! if it seems fit to thee that the traveller now at our\nlodging should die by the hands of this thy slave, vouchsafe us thy\ngood omen.\" They then sit down and watch for the good omen; and if\nthey receive it within half an hour, conclude that their goddess is\nfavourable to the claims of the new candidate for admission. If they\nhave a bad omen, or no omen at all, some other Thug must put the\ntraveller to death, and the aspirant must wait a more favourable\nopportunity, purifying himself in the mean time by prayer and\nhumiliation for the favour of the goddess. If the good omen has\nbeen obtained, they return to their quarters; and the Gooroo takes a\nhandkerchief and, turning his face to the west, ties a knot at one end\nof it, inserting a rupee, or other piece of silver. This knot is called\nthe goor khat, or holy knot, and no man who has not been properly\nordained is allowed to tie it. The aspirant receives it reverently in\nhis right hand from his Gooroo, and stands over the sleeping victim,\nwith a Shumseea, or holder of hands, at his side. The traveller is\naroused, the handkerchief is passed around his neck, and, at a signal\nfrom the Gooroo, is drawn tight till the victim is strangled; the\nShumseea holding his hands to prevent his making any resistance. The\nwork being now completed, the Bhurtote (no longer an aspirant, but an\nadmitted member) bows down reverently in the dust before his Gooroo, and\ntouches his feet with both his hands, and afterwards performs the same\nrespect to his relatives and friends who have assembled to witness the\nsolemn ceremony. He then waits for another favourable omen, when he\nunties the knot and takes out the rupee, which he gives to his Gooroo,\nwith any other silver which he may have about him. The Gooroo adds\nsome of his own money, with which he purchases what they call goor, or\nconsecrated sugar, when a solemn sacrifice is performed, to which\nall the gang are invited. The relationship between the Gooroo and his\ndisciple is accounted the most holy that can be formed, and subsists to\nthe latest period of life. A Thug may betray his father, but never his\nGooroo.\n\nDark and forbidding as is the picture already drawn, it will become\nstill darker and more repulsive, when we consider the motives which\nprompt these men to systematic murder. Horrible as their practices\nwould be, if love of plunder alone incited them, it is infinitely more\nhorrible to reflect that the idea of duty and religion is joined to the\nhope of gain, in making them the scourges of their fellows. If plunder\nwere their sole object, there would be reason to hope, that when a\nmember of the brotherhood grew rich, he would rest from his infernal\ntoils; but the dismal superstition which he cherishes tells him never\nto desist. He was sent into the world to be a slayer of men, and he\nreligiously works out his destiny. As religiously he educates his\nchildren to pursue the same career, instilling into their minds, at the\nearliest age, that Thuggee is the noblest profession a man can follow,\nand that the dark goddess they worship will always provide rich\ntravellers for her zealous devotees.\n\nThe following is the wild and startling legend upon which the Thugs\nfound the divine origin of their sect. They believe that, in the\nearliest ages of the world, a gigantic demon infested the earth, and\ndevoured mankind as soon as they were created. He was of so tall a\nstature, that when he strode through the most unfathomable depths of the\ngreat sea, the waves, even in tempest, could not reach above his middle.\nHis insatiable appetite for human flesh almost unpeopled the world,\nuntil Bhawanee, Kalee, or Davee, the goddess of the Thugs, determined to\nsave mankind by the destruction of the monster. Nerving herself for the\nencounter, she armed herself with an immense sword; and, meeting with\nthe demon, she ran him through the body. His blood flowed in torrents\nas he fell dead at her feet; but from every drop there sprang up another\nmonster, as rapacious and as terrible as the first. Again the goddess\nupraised her massive sword, and hewed down the hellish brood by\nhundreds; but the more she slew, the more numerous they became. Every\ndrop of their blood generated a demon; and, although the goddess\nendeavoured to lap up the blood ere it sprang into life, they increased\nupon her so rapidly, that the labour of killing became too great for\nendurance. The perspiration rolled down her arms in large drops, and she\nwas compelled to think of some other mode of exterminating them. In this\nemergency, she created two men out of the perspiration of her body,\nto whom she confided the holy task of delivering the earth from the\nmonsters. To each of the men she gave a handkerchief, and showed them\nhow to kill without shedding blood. From her they learned to tie the\nfatal noose; and they became, under her tuition, such expert stranglers,\nthat, in a very short space of time, the race of demons became extinct.\n\nWhen there were no more to slay, the two men sought the great goddess,\nin order to return the handkerchiefs. The grateful Bhawanee desired that\nthey would retain them, as memorials of their heroic deeds; and in order\nthat they might never lose the dexterity that they had acquired in using\nthem, she commanded that, from thenceforward, they should strangle\nmen. These were the two first Thugs, and from them the whole race\nhave descended. To the early Thugs the goddess was more direct in her\nfavours, than she has been to their successors. At first, she undertook\nto bury the bodies of all the men they slew and plundered, upon the\ncondition that they should never look back to see what she was doing.\nThe command was religiously observed for many ages, and the Thugs relied\nwith implicit faith upon the promise of Bhawanee; but as men became\nmore corrupt, the ungovernable curiosity of a young Thug offended the\ngoddess, and led to the withdrawal of a portion of her favour. This\nyouth, burning with a desire to see how she made her graves, looked\nback, and beheld her in the act, not of burying, but of devouring, the\nbody of a man just strangled. Half of the still palpitating remains was\ndangling over her lips. She was so highly displeased that she condemned\nthe Thugs, from that time forward, to bury their victims themselves.\nAnother account states that the goddess was merely tossing the body in\nthe air; and that, being naked, her anger was aggravated by the gaze\nof mortal eyes upon her charms. Before taking a final leave of her\ndevotees, she presented them with one of her teeth for a pickaxe, one\nof her ribs for a knife, and the hem of her garment for a noose. She has\nnot since appeared to human eyes.\n\nThe original tooth having been lost in the lapse of ages, new pickaxes\nhave been constructed, with great care and many ceremonies, by each\nconsiderable gang of Thugs, to be used in making the graves of strangled\ntravellers. The pickaxe is looked upon with the utmost veneration by\nthe tribe. A short account of the process of making it, and the rites\nperformed, may be interesting, as showing still further their gloomy\nsuperstition. In the first place, it is necessary to fix upon a lucky\nday. The chief Thug then instructs a smith to forge the holy instrument:\nno other eye is permitted to see the operation. The smith must engage\nin no other occupation until it is completed, and the chief Thug never\nquits his side during the process. When the instrument is formed, it\nbecomes necessary to consecrate it to the especial service of Bhawnee.\nAnother lucky day is chosen for this ceremony, care being had in the\nmean time that the shadow of no earthly thing fall upon the pickaxe, as\nits efficacy would be for ever destroyed. A learned Thug then sits down;\nand turning his face to the west, receives the pickaxe in a brass\ndish. After muttering some incantation, he throws it into a pit already\nprepared for it, where it is washed in clear water. It is then taken\nout, and washed again three times; the first time in sugar and water,\nthe second in sour milk, and the third in spirits. It is then dried,\nand marked from the head to the point with seven red spots. This is the\nfirst part of the ceremony: the second consists in its purification\nby fire. The pickaxe is again placed upon the brass dish, along with a\ncocoa-nut, some sugar, cloves, white sandal-wood, and other articles. A\nfire of the mango tree, mixed with dried cow-dung, is then kindled;\nand the officiating Thug, taking the pickaxe with both hands, passes it\nseven times through the flames.\n\nIt now remains to be ascertained whether the goddess is favourable to\nher followers. For this purpose, the cocoa-nut is taken from the\ndish and placed upon the ground. The officiating Thug, turning to the\nspectators, and holding the axe uplifted, asks, \"Shall I strike?\" Assent\nbeing given, he strikes the nut with the but-end of the axe, exclaiming,\n\"All hail! mighty Davee! great mother of us all!\" The spectators\nrespond, \"All hail! mighty Davee! and prosper thy children, the Thugs!\"\n\nIf the nut is severed at the first blow, the goddess is favourable;\nif not, she is unpropitious: all their labour is thrown away, and the\nceremony must be repeated upon some more fitting occasion. But if the\nsign be favourable, the axe is tied carefully in a white cloth and\nturned towards the west, all the spectators prostrating themselves\nbefore it. It is then buried in the earth, with its point turned in the\ndirection the gang wishes to take on their approaching expedition. If\nthe goddess desires to warn them that they will be unsuccessful, or that\nthey have not chosen the right track, the Thugs believe that the point\nof the axe will veer round, and point to the better way. During an\nexpedition, it is entrusted to the most prudent and exemplary Thug of\nthe party: it is his care to hold it fast. If by any chance he should\nlet it fall, consternation spreads through the gang: the goddess is\nthought to be offended; the enterprise is at once abandoned; and the\nThugs return home in humiliation and sorrow, to sacrifice to their\ngloomy deity, and win back her estranged favour. So great is the\nreverence in which they hold the sacred axe, that a Thug will never\nbreak an oath that he has taken upon it. He fears that, should he\nperjure himself, his neck would be so twisted by the offended Bhawanee\nas to make his face turn to his back; and that, in the course of a few\ndays, he would expire in the most excruciating agonies.\n\nThe Thugs are diligent observers of signs and omens. No expedition\nis ever undertaken before the auspices are solemnly taken. Upon this\nsubject Captain Sleeman says, \"Even the most sensible approvers, who\nhave been with me for many years, as well Hindoos as Mussulmans, believe\nthat their good or ill success depended upon the skill with which the\nomens were discovered and interpreted, and the strictness with which\nthey were observed and obeyed. One of the old Sindouse stock told me,\nin presence of twelve others, from Hydrabad, Behar, the Dooah, Oude,\nRajpootana, and Bundelcund, that, had they not attended to these omens,\nthey never could have thrived as they did. In ordinary cases of murder,\nother men seldom escaped punishment, while they and their families had,\nfor ten generations, thrived, although they had murdered hundreds of\npeople. 'This,' said the Thug,' could never have been the case had we\nnot attended to omens, and had not omens been intended for us. There\nwere always signs around us to guide us to rich booty, and warn us of\ndanger, had we been always wise enough to discern them and religious\nenough to attend to them.' Every Thug present concurred with him from\nhis soul.\"\n\nA Thug, of polished manners and great eloquence, being asked by a native\ngentleman, in the presence of Captain Sleeman, whether he never felt\ncompunction in murdering innocent people, replied with a smile that he\ndid not. \"Does any man,\" said he, \"feel compunction in following his\ntrade? and are not all our trades assigned us by Providence?\" He was\nthen asked how many people he had killed with his own hands in the\ncourse of his life? \"I have killed none,\" was the reply. \"What! and\nhave you not been describing a number of murders in which you were\nconcerned?\" \"True; but do you suppose that I committed them? Is any man\nkilled by man's killing? Is it not the hand of God that kills, and are\nwe not the mere instruments in the hands of God?\"\n\nUpon another occasion, Sahib, an approver, being asked if he had never\nfelt any pity or compunction at murdering old men or young children,\nor persons with whom he had sat and conversed, and who had told him,\nperchance, of their private affairs--their hopes and their fears, their\nwives and their little ones? replied unhesitatingly that he never did.\nFrom the time that the omens were favourable, the Thugs considered all\nthe travellers they met as victims thrown into their hands by their\ndivinity to be killed. The Thugs were the mere instruments in the hands\nof Bhawanee to destroy them. \"If we did not kill them,\" said Sahib, \"the\ngoddess would never again be propitious to us, and we and our families\nwould be involved in misery and want. If we see or hear a bad omen, it\nis the order of the goddess not to kill the travellers we are in pursuit\nof, and we dare not disobey.\"\n\nAs soon as an expedition has been planned, the goddess is consulted. On\nthe day chosen for starting, which is never during the unlucky months of\nJuly, September, and December, nor on a Wednesday or Thursday; the chief\nThug of the party fills a brass jug with water, which he carries in\nhis right hand by his side. With his left, he holds upon his breast\nthe sacred pickaxe, wrapped carefully in a white cloth, along with five\nknots of turmeric, two copper, and one silver coin. He then moves slowly\non, followed by the whole of the gang, to some field or retired place,\nwhere halting, with his countenance turned in the direction they wish\nto pursue, he lifts up his eyes to heaven, saying, \"Great goddess!\nuniversal mother! if this, our meditated expedition, be fitting in thy\nsight, vouchsafe to help us, and give us the signs of thy approbation.\"\nAll the Thugs present solemnly repeat the prayer after their leader, and\nwait in silence for the omen. If within half an hour they see Pilhaoo,\nor good omen on the left, it signifies that the goddess has taken them\nby the left hand to lead them on; if they see the Thibaoo, or omen on\nthe right, it signifies that she has taken them by the right hand also.\nThe leader then places the brazen pitcher on the ground and sits down\nbeside it, with his face turned in the same direction for seven hours,\nduring which time his followers make all the necessary preparations\nfor the journey. If, during this interval, no unfavourable signs are\nobserved, the expedition advances slowly, until it arrives at the bank\nof the nearest stream, when they all sit down and eat of the goor, or\nconsecrated sugar. Any evil omens that are perceived after this ceremony\nmay be averted by sacrifices; but any evil omens before, would at once\nput an end to the expedition.\n\nAmong the evil omens are the following:--If the brazen pitcher drops\nfrom the hand of the Jemadar or leader, it threatens great evil either\nto him or to the gang--sometimes to both. If they meet a funeral\nprocession, a blind man, a lame man, an oil-vender, a carpenter, a\npotter, or a dancing-master, the expedition will be dangerous. In like\nmanner it is unlucky to sneeze, to meet a woman with an empty pail, a\ncouple of jackals, or a hare. The crossing of their path by the latter\nis considered peculiarly inauspicious. Its cry at night on the left is\nsometimes a good omen, but if they hear it on the right it is very bad;\na warning sent to them from Bhawanee that there is danger if they kill.\nShould they disregard this warning, and led on by the hope of gain,\nstrangle any traveller, they would either find no booty on him, or such\nbooty as would eventually lead to the ruin and dispersion of the gang.\nBhawanee would be wroth with her children; and causing them to perish in\nthe jungle, would send the hares to drink water out of their skulls.\n\nThe good omens are quite as numerous as the evil. It promises a\nfortunate expedition, if, on the first day, they pass through a village\nwhere there is a fair. It is also deemed fortunate, if they hear wailing\nfor the dead in any village but their own. To meet a woman with a\npitcher full of water upon her head, bodes a prosperous journey and a\nsafe return. The omen is still more favourable if she be in a state of\npregnancy. It is said of the Thugs of the Jumaldehee and Lodaha tribes,\nthat they always make the youngest Thug of the party kick the body of\nthe first person they strangle, five times on the back, thinking that\nit will bring them good luck. This practice, however, is not general. If\nthey hear an ass bray on the left at the commencement of an expedition,\nand an another soon afterwards on the right, they believe that they\nshall be supereminently successful, that they shall strangle a multitude\nof travellers, and find great booty.\n\nAfter every murder a solemn sacrifice, called the Tuponee, is performed\nby all the gang. The goor, or consecrated sugar, is placed upon a large\ncloth or blanket, which is spread upon the grass. Beside it is deposited\nthe sacred pickaxe, and a piece of silver for an offering. The Jemadar,\nor chief of the party, together with all the oldest and most prudent\nThugs, take their places upon the cloth, and turn their faces to the\nwest. Those inferior Thugs who cannot find room upon the privileged\ncloth, sit round as close to it as possible. A pit is then dug, into\nwhich the Jemadar pours a small quantity of the goor, praying at\nthe same time that the goddess will always reward her followers with\nabundant spoils. All the Thugs repeat the prayer after him. He then\nsprinkles water upon the pickaxe, and puts a little of the goor upon\nthe head of every one who has obtained a seat beside him on the cloth.\nA short pause ensues, when the signal for strangling is given, as if a\nmurder were actually about to be committed, and each Thug eats his\ngoor in solemn silence. So powerful is the impression made upon their\nimagination by this ceremony, that it almost drives them frantic with\nenthusiasm. Captain Sleeman relates, that when he reproached a Thug for\nhis share in a murder of great atrocity, and asked him whether he never\nfelt pity; the man replied, \"We all feel pity sometimes; but the goor of\nthe Tuponee changes our nature; it would change the nature of a horse.\nLet any man once taste of that goor, and he will be a Thug, though he\nknow all the trades and have all the wealth in the world. I never was in\nwant of food; my mother's family was opulent, and her relations high\nin office. I have been high in office myself, and became so great a\nfavourite wherever I went that I was sure of promotion; yet I was always\nmiserable when absent from my gang, and obliged to return to Thuggee. My\nfather made me taste of that fatal goor, when I was yet a mere boy; and\nif I were to live a thousand years I should never be able to follow any\nother trade.\"\n\nThe possession of wealth, station in society, and the esteem of his\nfellows, could not keep this man from murder. From his extraordinary\nconfession we may judge of the extreme difficulty of exterminating a\nsect who are impelled to their horrid practises, not only by the motives\nof self-interest which govern mankind in general, but by a fanaticism\nwhich fills up the measure of their whole existence. Even severity\nseems thrown away upon the followers of this brutalizing creed. To them,\npunishment is no example; they have no sympathy for a brother Thug who\nis hung at his own door by the British Government, nor have they any\ndread of his fate. Their invariable idea is, that their goddess\nonly suffers those Thugs to fall into the hands of the law, who have\ncontravened the peculiar observances of Thuggee, and who have neglected\nthe omens she sent them for their guidance.\n\nTo their neglect of the warnings of the goddess they attribute all the\nreverses which have of late years befallen their sect. It is expressly\nforbidden, in the creed of the old Thugs, to murder women or cripples.\nThe modern Thugs have become unscrupulous upon this point, murdering\nwomen, and even children, with unrelenting barbarity. Captain Sleeman\nreports several conversations upon this subject, which he held at\ndifferent times with Thugs, who had been taken prisoners, or who had\nturned approvers. One of them, named Zolfukar, said, in reply to the\nCaptain, who accused him of murdering women, \"Yes, and was not the\ngreater part of Feringeea's and my gang seized, after we had murdered\nthe two women and the little girl, at Manora, in 1830? and were we not\nourselves both seized soon after? How could we survive things like that?\nOur ancestors never did such things.\" Lalmun, another Thug, in reply to\na similar question, said, \"Most of our misfortunes have come upon us for\nthe murder of women. We all knew that they would come upon us some day,\nfor this and other great sins. We were often admonished, but we did not\ntake warning; and we deserve our fates.\" In speaking of the supposed\nprotection which their goddess had extended to them in former times,\nZolfukar said:--\"Ah! we had some regard for religion then! We have lost\nit since. All kinds of men have been made Thugs, and all classes of\npeople murdered, without distinction; and little attention has been paid\nto omens. How, after this, could we think to escape? * * * * Davee never\nforsook us till we neglected her!\"\n\nIt might be imagined that men who spoke in this manner of the anger of\nthe goddess, and who, even in custody, showed so much veneration for\ntheir unhappy calling, would hesitate before they turned informers, and\nlaid bare the secrets and exposed the haunts of their fellows:--among\nthe more civilized ruffians of Europe, we often find the one chivalrous\ntrait of character, which makes them scorn a reward that must be earned\nby the blood of their accomplices: but in India there is no honour among\nthieves. When the approvers are asked, if they, who still believe in\nthe power of the terrible goddess Davee, are not afraid to incur her\ndispleasure by informing of their fellows, they reply, that Davee\nhas done her worst in abandoning them. She can inflict no severer\npunishment, and therefore gives herself no further concern about her\ndegenerate children. This cowardly doctrine is, however, of advantage\nto the Government that seeks to put an end to the sect, and has thrown\na light upon their practices, which could never have been obtained from\nother sources.\n\nAnother branch of the Thug abomination has more recently been discovered\nby the indefatigable Captain Sleeman. The followers of this sect are\ncalled MEGPUNNAS, and they murder travellers, not to rob them of their\nwealth, but of their children, whom they afterwards sell into slavery.\nThey entertain the same religious opinions as the Thugs, and have\ncarried on their hideous practices, and entertained their dismal\nsuperstition, for about a dozen years with impunity. The report of\nCaptain Sleeman states, that the crime prevails almost exclusively\nin Delhi and the native principalities, or Rajpootana of Ulwar and\nBhurtpore; and that it first spread extensively after the siege of\nBhurtpore in 1826.\n\nThe original Thugs never or rarely travel with their wives; but the\nMegpunnas invariably take their families with them, the women and\nchildren being used to inveigle the victims. Poor travellers are always\nchosen by the Megpunnas as the objects of their murderous traffic. The\nfemales and children are sent on in advance to make acquaintance with\nemigrants or beggars on the road, travelling with their families, whom\nthey entice to pass the night in some secluded place, where they are\nafterwards set upon by the men, and strangled. The women take care of\nthe children. Such of them as are beautiful are sold at a high price\nto the brothels of Delhi, or other large cities; while the boys and\nill-favoured girls are sold for servants at a more moderate rate. These\nmurders are perpetrated perhaps five hundred miles from the homes of\nthe unfortunate victims; and the children thus obtained, deprived of all\ntheir relatives, are never inquired after. Even should any of their kin\nbe alive, they are too far off and too poor to institute inquiries. One\nof the members, on being questioned, said the Megpunnas made more money\nthan the other Thugs; it was more profitable to kill poor people for the\nsake of their children, than rich people for their wealth. Megpunnaism\nis supposed by its votaries to be, like Thuggee, under the immediate\nprotection of the great goddess Davee, or Kalee, whose favour is to be\nobtained before the commencement of every expedition, and whose omens,\nwhether of good or evil, are to be diligently sought on all occasions.\nThe first apostle to whom she communicated her commands for the\nformation of the new sect, and the rules and ordinances by which it was\nto be guided, was called Kheama Jemadar. He was considered so holy a\nman, that the Thugs and Megpunnas considered it an extreme felicity\nto gaze upon and touch him. At the moment of his arrest by the British\nauthorities, a fire was raging in the village, and the inhabitants\ngathered round him and implored him to intercede with his god, that\nthe flames might be extinguished. The Megpunna, says the tradition,\nstretched forth his hand to heaven, prayed, and the fire ceased\nimmediately.\n\nThere now only remain to be considered the exertions that have been made\nto remove from the face of India this purulent and disgusting sore.\nFrom the year 1807 until 1826, the proceedings against Thuggee were not\ncarried on with any extraordinary degree of vigour; but, in the\nlatter year, the Government seems to have begun to act upon a settled\ndetermination to destroy it altogether. From 1826 to 1855, both\nincluded, there were committed to prison, in the various Presidencies,\n1562 persons accused of this crime. Of these, 328 were hanged; 999\ntransported; 77 imprisoned for life; 71 imprisoned for shorter periods;\n21 held to bail; and only 21 acquitted. Of the remainder, 31 died in\nprison, before they were brought to trial, 11 escaped, and 49 turned\napprovers.\n\nOne Feringeea, a Thug leader of great notoriety, was delivered up to\njustice in the year 1830, in consequence of the reward of five hundred\nrupees offered for his apprehension by the Government. He was brought\nbefore Captain Sleeman, at Sangir, in the December of that year, and\noffered, if his life were spared, to give such information as would\nlead to the arrest of several extensive gangs which had carried on their\nmurderous practices undetected for several years. He mentioned the place\nof rendezvous, for the following February, of some well organized gangs,\nwho were to proceed into Guzerat and Candeish. Captain Sleeman appeared\nto doubt his information; but accompanied the Thug to a mango grove, two\nstages from Sangir, on the road to Seronage. They reached this place in\nthe evening, and in the morning Feringeea pointed out three places in\nwhich he and his gang had, at different intervals, buried the bodies of\nthree parties of travellers whom they had murdered. The sward had grown\nover all the spots, and not the slightest traces were to be seen that\nit had ever been disturbed. Under the sod of Captain Sleeman's tent were\nfound the bodies of the first party, consisting of a pundit and his six\nattendants, murdered in 1818. Another party of five, murdered in 1824,\nwere under the ground at the place where the Captain's horses had been\ntied up for the night; and four Brahmin carriers of the Ganges water,\nwith a woman, were buried under his sleeping tent. Before the ground\nwas moved, Captain Sleeman expressed some doubts; but Feringeea, after\nlooking at the position of some neighbouring trees, said he would risk\nhis life on the accuracy of his remembrance. The workmen dug five feet\nwithout discovering the bodies; but they were at length found a little\nbeyond that depth, exactly as the Thug had described them. With this\nproof of his knowledge of the haunts of his brethren, Feringeea was\npromised his liberty and pardon if he would aid in bringing to justice\nthe many large gangs to which he had belonged, and which were still\nprowling over the country. They were arrested in the February following,\nat the place of rendezvous pointed out by the approver, and most of them\ncondemned and executed.\n\nSo far we learn from Captain Sleeman, who only brought down his tables\nto the close of the year 1835. A writer in the \"Foreign Quarterly\nReview\" furnishes an additional list of 241 persons, committed to\nprison in 1836, for being concerned in the murder and robbery of 474\nindividuals. Of these criminals, 91 were sentenced to death, and 22 to\nimprisonment for life, leaving 306, who were sentenced to transportation\nfor life, or shorter periods of imprisonment, or who turned approvers,\nor died in gaol. Not one of the whole number was acquitted.\n\nGreat as is this amount of criminals who have been brought to justice,\nit is to be feared that many years must elapse before an evil so deeply\nrooted can be eradicated. The difficulty is increased by the utter\nhopelessness of reformation as regards the survivors. Their numbers\nare still calculated to amount to ten thousand persons, who, taking the\naverage of three murders annually for each, as calculated by Captain\nSleeman and other writers, murder every year thirty thousand of their\nfellow creatures. This average is said to be under the mark; but even if\nwe were to take it at only a third of this calculation, what a frightful\nlist it would be! When religion teaches men to go astray, they go far\nastray indeed!\n\n\nEND OF THE FIRST VOLUME.","title":"Memoirs of Extraordinary Popular Delusions \u2014 Volume 1","tradition":"ritual-magic","translated_text":null,"word_count":96998}