The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction, No. 492 written by Various
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Various >> The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction, No. 492
THE MIRROR OF LITERATURE, AMUSEMENT, AND INSTRUCTION.
VOL. 17, No. 492.] SATURDAY, JUNE 4, 1831. [PRICE 2d.
* * * * *
THREE BOROUGHS
[Illustration: _Proposed to be wholly disfranchised by the_ REFORM BILL.
1. DUNWICH. 2. OLD SARUM. 3. BRAMBER.]
THREE BOROUGHS:
1. DUNWICH, SUFFOLK.
2. OLD SARUM, WILTS.
3. BRAMBER, SUSSEX.
_Proposed to be wholly disfranchised by "the Reform Bill."_
We feel ourselves on ticklish--debateable ground; yet we only wish to
illustrate the topographical history of the above _places_; their
parliamentary history must, however be alluded to; but their future fate
we leave to the 658 prime movers of government mechanics. Mr. Oldfield's
_History of the Boroughs_, the best companion of the member of
parliament, shall aid us: instead of companion we might, however, call
this work his _family_, for there are six full-grown octavo volumes,
which would occupy a respectable portion of any library table.
* * * * *
Dunwich is a market town in the hundred of Blything, Suffolk, three and
a half miles from Southwold, and one hundred from London. It was once an
important, opulent, and commercial city, but is now a mean village. It
was also an episcopal see, but William I. transferred the see to
Thetford, and thence to Norwich. Dunwich stands on a cliff of
considerable height commanding an extensive view of the German Ocean,
and we learn that its ruin is owing chiefly to the encroachments of the
sea. It is a poor, desolate place, as the cut implies. Mr. Shoberl, in
the _Beauties of England and Wales_, tells us "seated upon a hill
composed of loam and sand of a loose texture, on a coast destitute of
rocks, it is not surprising that its building shall have successively
yielded to the impetuosity of the billows, breaking against, and easily
undermining the foot of the precipice." Certainly not, say we; and it is
equally un-surprising that seven out of its eight parishes having been
long ago destroyed, their political consequence should not exist beyond
their extermination. Mr. Oldfield, whom we remember to have often met,
was a man of jocose turn, and he has not spared Dunwich his whip of
humour, for, speaking of its gradual decay by the sea, he says--"the
encroachment that is still making, (1816) will probably, in a few years,
oblige the constituent body to betake themselves to a boat, whenever the
king's writ shall summon them to the exercise of their elective
functions; as the necessity of adhering to _forms_, in the farcical
solemnity of borough elections, is not to be dispensed with."
We must be brief with its representative and political history. "Out
brief candle!" It has sent members since the 23rd Edward I. Bribery and
other irregularities against the sitting members in procuring votes were
proved in 1696: in 1708, Sir Charles Bloyce, one of the bailiffs was
returned, but upon a petition proving bribery, menaces, treating, &c.
this was proved to be "no return:" Sir Charles was declared not capable
of being elected, "as being one of the bailiffs; nor had the other
bailiff alone any authority to make a return, the two bailiffs making
but one officer."[1] In 1722 another bribery petition was presented, but
the affair was made up, and the complaint withdrawn. After this display
of venality, it is amusing to read that the corporation consists of two
bailiffs and twelve _capital_ burgesses.[2]
[1] The reader may often have noticed in county advertisements
the two sheriffs designated as _one officer_. Thus, in the
advertisement of the recent Middlesex election:--
SIR CHAPMAN MARSHALL, } Sheriff of Middlesex.
SIR W.H. POLAND. }
[2] This reminds one of the admiration of the Lord Mayor in
Richard III. by George the Second, so ill-timedly expressed by
the King to Garrick, the stage king:--
"Fine Lord Mayor! capital Lord Mayor! where you get such
Lord Mayor?"
Mr. Oldfield described this borough fourteen years ago, as consisting of
only forty-two houses, and _half a church_, the other part having been
demolished. Here _were_ six if not eight parish churches: namely, St.
John's, (which was a rectory, and seems to have been swallowed up by the
sea about the year 1540;) St. Martin's, St. Nicholas's, and St. Peter's,
which were likewise rectories; and St. Leonard's and All Saints, which
were impropriated. The register of Eye also mentions the churches of St.
Michael and St. Bartholomew, which were swallowed up by the sea before
the year 1331. The ocean here appears to have almost a corporation
swallow. The walls, which encompassed upwards of seven acres of land,
had three gates. That to the eastward is quite demolished; but the
arches of the two gates to the westward continue pretty firm, and are of
curious workmanship, which nature has almost covered with ivy.
By aid of the excellent parliamentary _anatomy_, in the _Spectator_
newspaper, we learn that DUNWICH, according to the census of 1821,
contained 200 persons.
The "patrons," or "prevailing influence," are Mr. M. Barne and Lord
Huntingfield. The number of votes is 18.
The members "returned" to the last parliament were F. Barne and the
Earl of Brecknock, who were also returned at the recent election.
* * * * *
Old Sarum, Wilts, the second Borough, has been already fully illustrated
in vol. x., No. 290, of _The Mirror_. It fell, or was rather pulled
down, in consequence of a squabble between the civil and ecclesiastical
authorities; and soon after 1217, the inhabitants removed the city, by
piecemeal, to another site, which they called _New_ Sarum, now
Salisbury. The site of the old city was very recently a field of oats;
and the remains of its cathedral, castle, &c., were heaps of rubbish,
covered with unprofitable verdure. We may therefore say,
Ubi seges, _Sarum_ fuit.
Mr. Britton, in the _Beauties of England and Wales_, discourses
diligently of its antiquarian history, which we have glanced at in our
tenth volume. It is in the parish of Stratford-under-the-Castle; and
under an old tree, near the church, is the spot where the members for
Old Sarum are elected, or rather deputed, to sit in parliament. The
father of the great Earl of Chatham once resided at an old family
mansion in this parish; and the latter was first sent to parliament from
the borough of Old Sarum, in February, 1735; yet "the great Earl Chatham
called these boroughs the excrescences, the rotten part of the
constitution, which must be amputated to save the body from a
mortification."--(_Oldfield_.)
Few particulars of its representative history are worth relating. The
borough returned members to Parliament 23rd Edward I., and then
intermitted till 34th Edward III., since which time it has constantly
returned. By the return 1 Henry V. it appears that its representatives
were with those of other boroughs elected at the county court.
Old Sarum was the property of the late Lord Camelford, who sold it to
the Earl of Caledon. The suffrage is by burgage-tenure. The voters,
seven, are nominated by the proprietor; but (says Oldfield) actually
only one.
The population of Old Sarum is included in the parish, and is not
distinguished in its returns.
The proprietor is Lord Caledon; and the members in the last parliament
were J.J. and J.D. Alexander, who were again returned at the recent
election.
The Cut is an accurate view of the old borough, with Salisbury Cathedral
in the distance.
* * * * *
Bramber is here represented by the forlorn ruins of its Castle. It is
in the hundred of Steyning, rape of Bramber, Sussex, and is half a mile
from Steyning. It sent members as early as the two previous boroughs; it
afterwards intermitted sending, and sometimes sent in conjunction with
Steyning, before the 7th Edward IV. There is much "tampering" in its
representative records: in 1700, one Mr. Samuel Shepherd was charged
with these matters here, and in Wiltshire and Hampshire, when he was
ordered to the Tower of London; but a week afterwards, Mr. Shepherd was
declared to have absconded. In 1706, a Mr. Asgill, one of the Bramber
members, was delivered out of the Fleet by his parliamentary privilege,
and the aid of the Sergeant-at-Arms and his mace; but in the following
month he was expelled the house for his writings.
The right of election is in resident burgage-holders; and the number of
voters is stated to be twenty. The place consists of a few miserable
thatched cottages. The Duke of Norfolk is lord of the manor. The
cottages are one half of them the property of the Duke of Rutland, and
the other of Lord Calthorpe, who, since the year 1786, have each agreed
to send one member.[3]
[3] It is related, that in an election contest, in 1786, the
tenant of one of the cottages had the integrity to reject L1,000
for his vote.
The history of the Castle seen in the Cut merits note, especially as it
is the only relic of the former consequence of the place. It was the
baronial castle of the honour of Bramber, which, at the time of the
Conqueror's survey, belonged to William de Braose, who possessed forty
other manors in this county. These were held by his descendants for
several generations by the service of the knights' fees; and they
obtained permission to build themselves a castle here; but the exact
date of its erection is not known. Its ruins attest that it was once a
strong and extensive edifice. It appears to have completely covered the
top of a rugged eminence, which commands a fine view of the adjacent
country and the sea, and to have been surrounded by a triple trench. The
population of Bramber is in the Returns of 1821--ninety-eight persons.
The members in the last parliament were the Honourable F.G. Calthorpe
and John Irving; at the recent election, the members returned were J.
Irving and W.S. Dugdale.
* * * * *
Such is an outline of the histories of the annexed three Boroughs. Two
of them are sites of great beauty; and we leave the reader to reflect on
these pleasant features in association with their rise, decline, and we
opine, political extermination.
* * * * *
MANNERS & CUSTOMS OF ALL NATIONS.
* * * * *
ORIGIN OF THE COBBLER'S ARMS.
Charles V., in his intervals of relaxation, used to retire to Brussels.
He was a prince curious to know the sentiments of his meanest subjects,
concerning himself and his administration; he therefore often went out
_incog_. and mixed in such companies and conversations as he thought
proper. One night his boot required immediate mending; he was directed
to a cobbler not inclined for work, who was in the height of his jollity
among his acquaintance. The emperor acquainted him with what he wanted,
and offered a handsome remuneration for his trouble.
"What, friend," says the fellow, "do you know no better than to ask any
of our craft to work on St. Crispin? Was it Charles the Fifth himself,
I'd not do a stitch for him now; but if you'll come in and drink St.
Crispin, do, and welcome--we are merry as the emperor can be."
The sovereign accepted his offer; but while he was contemplating on
their rude pleasure, instead of joining in it, the jovial host thus
accosts him:
"What, I suppose you are some courtier politician or other, by that
contemplative phiz!--nay, by your long nose, you may be a bastard of the
emperor's; but, be who or what you will, you're heartily welcome. Drink
about; here's Charles the Fifth's health."
"Then you love Charles the Fifth?" replied the emperor.
"Love him!" says the son of Crispin, "ay, ay, I love his long-noseship
well enough; but I should love him much more, would he but tax us a
little less. But what the devil have we to do with politics! Round with
the glass, and merry be our hearts!"
After a short stay, the emperor took his leave, and thanked the cobbler
for his hospitable reception. "That," cried he, "you're welcome to; but
I would not to day have dishonoured St. Crispin to have worked for the
emperor."
Charles, pleased with the honest good nature and humour of the fellow,
sent for him next morning to court. You may imagine his surprise, to see
and hear that his late guest was his sovereign: he was afraid his joke
on his long nose would be punished with death. The emperor thanked him
for his hospitality, and, as a reward for it, bid him ask for what he
most desired, and to take the whole night to think of it. The next day
he appeared, and requested that for the future the cobblers of Flanders
might bear for their arms a boot with the emperor's crown upon it.
That request was granted; and so moderate was his ambition, that the
emperor bid him make another. "If," says the cobbler, "I might have my
utmost wish, command that for the future the company of cobblers shall
take place of the company of shoemakers."
It was accordingly so ordained by the emperor; and to this day there is
to be seen a chapel in Brussels adorned round with a boot and imperial
crown, and in all processions the company of cobblers take precedence of
the company of shoemakers.
G.K.
* * * * *
SINGULAR TENURE.
King John gave several lands, at Kepperton and Atterton, in Kent, to
Solomon Attefeld, to be held by this singular service--that as often as
the king should be pleased to cross the sea, the said Solomon, or his
heirs, should be obliged to go with him, to _hold his majesty's head_,
if there should be occasion for it, "that is, if he should be sea-sick;"
and it appears, by the record in the Tower, that this same office of
_head-holding_ was actually performed in the reign of Edward the First.
J.R.S.
* * * * *
"AS BAD AS PLOUGHING WITH DOGS."
(_To the Editor_.)
Famed as your miscellany is for local and provincial terms, customs, and
proverbs, I have often wondered never to have met with therein this old
comparative north country proverb--"As bad as ploughing with dogs;"
which evidently originated from the Farm-house; for when ploughmen
(through necessity) have a new or awkward horse taken into their team,
by which they are hindered and hampered, they frequently observe, "This
is as bad as ploughing with dogs." This proverb is in the country so
common, that it is applied to anything difficult or abstruse: even at a
rubber at whist, I have heard the minor party execrate the business in
these words, "It is as bad as ploughing with dogs," give it up for lost,
change chairs, cut for partners, and begin a new game.
H.B.A.
* * * * *
CROESUS.--A DRAMATIC SKETCH.
(_For the Mirror_.)
_Cyrus, Courtiers, and Officers of State. Croesus bound upon the funeral
pile which is guarded by Persian soldiers, several of them bearing
lighted torches, which they are about to apply to the pile_.
_Croesus_.--O, Solon, Solon, Solon.
_Cyrus_.--Whom calls he on?
_Attendant_.--Solon, the sage.
_Croesus_.--How true thy words
No man is happy till he knows his end.
_Cyrus_.--Can Solon help thee?
_Croesus_.--He hath taught me that
Which it were well for kings to know.
_Cyrus_.--Unbind him--we would hear it.
_Croesus_.--The fame of Solon having spread o'er Greece,
We sent for him to Sardis. Robed in purple,
We and our court received him: costly gems
Bedecked us--glittering in golden beds,
We told him of our riches. He was moved not.
We showed him our vast palace, hall, and chamber,
Cellar and attic not omitting--
Statues and urns, and tapestry of gold,
Carpets and furniture, and Grecian paintings,
Diamonds and sapphires, rubies, emeralds,
And pearls, that would have dazzled eagles' sight.
Lastly, our treasury!--we showed him Lydia's wealth!
And then exulting, asked him, whom of all men
That in the course of his long travels he had seen
He thought most happy?--He replied,
"One Tellus, an Athenian citizen,
Of little fortune, and of less ambition,
Who lived in ignorance of penury,
And ever saw his country flourish;
His children were esteemed--he lived to see
His children's children--then he fell in battle,
A patriot, a hero, and a martyr!"
Whom next?--I asked, "Two Argive brothers,
Whose pious pattern of fraternal love
And filial duty and affection,
Is worthy of example and remembrance.
Their mother was a priestess of the queen
Of the supreme and mighty Jupiter!
And she besought her goddess to send down
The best of blessings on her duteous sons.
Her prayers were heard--they slept and died!"
Then you account me not among the happy?
To which the sage gave answer--
"King of Lydia! Our philosophy
Is but ill suited to the courts of kings.
We do not glory in our own prosperity,
Nor yet admire the happiness of others.
All bliss is brief and superficial,
And should not be accounted as a good,
But that which lasts unto our being's end.
The life of man is threescore years and ten,
Which being summed in the whole amount
Unto some thousands of swift-winged days,
Of which there are not two alike;
So those which are to come, being unknown,
Are but a series of accidents:
Therefore esteem we no man happy,
But him whose happiness continues to the end!
We cannot win the prize until the contest's o'er!"
_Cyrus_.--Solon hath saved one king
And taught another! Torchmen, we reprieve
The captive Croesus.
CYMBELINE.
* * * * *
PAUL'S CROSS.
(_For the Mirror_.)
"----Friers and faytours have fonden such questions
To plese with the proud men, sith the pestilence time,[4]
And preachen at St. Paul's, for pure envi fo clarkes,
That praiers have no powre the pestilence to lette."
_Piers Plowman's Visions_.
[4] The great plague in 1347.
The early celebrity of Paul's Cross, as the greatest seat of pulpit
eloquence, is evinced in the lines above quoted, which give us to
understand that the most subtle and abstract questions in theology were
handled here by the Friars, in opposition to the secular clergy, almost
at the first settlement of that popular order of preachers in England.
Of the custom of preaching at crosses it is difficult to trace the
origin; it was doubtless far more remote than the period alluded to, and
_Pennant_ thinks, at first accidental. The sanctity of this species of
pillar, he observes, often caused a considerable resort of people to pay
their devotion to the great object of their erection. A preacher, seeing
a large concourse might be seized by a sudden impulse, ascend the steps,
and deliver out his pious advice from a station so fit to inspire
attention, and so conveniently formed for the purpose. The example might
be followed till the practice became established by custom.
The famous Paul's Cross, like many others in various parts of the
kingdom (afterwards converted to the same purpose,) was doubtless at
first a mere common cross, and might be coeval with the Church. When it
was covered and used as a pulpit cross, we are not informed. Stowe
describes it in his time, "as a pulpit-crosse of timber, mounted upon
steppes of stone, and covered with leade, standing in the church-yard,
the very antiquitie whereof was to him unknowne." We hear of its being
in use as early as the year 1259, when Henry III., in person commanded
the mayor to swear before him every stripling of twelve years old and
upwards, to be true to him and his heirs. Here in 1299, Ralph de Baldoc,
dean of St. Paul's, cursed all those who had searched, in the church, of
St. Martin in the Fields, for a hoard of gold, &c. Before this cross in
1483, was brought, divested of all her splendour, Jane Shore, the
charitable, the merry concubine of Edward IV., and, after his death, of
his favourite, the unfortunate Lord Hastings. After the loss of her
protectors, she fell a victim to the malice of crook-backed Richard. He
was disappointed (by her excellent defence) of convicting her of
witchcraft, and confederating with her lover to destroy him. He then
attacked her on the weak side of frailty. This was undeniable. He
consigned her to the severity of the church: she was carried to the
bishop's palace, clothed in a white sheet, with a taper in her hand, and
from thence conducted to the cathedral, and the cross, before which she
made a confession of her only fault. Every other virtue bloomed in this
ill-fated fair with the fullest vigour. She could not resist the
solicitations of a youthful monarch, the handsomest man of his time. On
his death she was reduced to necessity, scorned by the world, and cast
off by her husband, with whom she was paired in her childish years, and
forced to fling herself into the arms of Hastings. "In her penance she
went," says _Holinshed_ "in countenance and pase demure, so womanlie,
that, albeit she were out of all araie, save her kirtle onlie, yet went
she so faire and lovelie, namelie, while the woondering of the people
cast a comlie rud in hir cheeks, (of which she before had most misse)
that hir great shame won hir much praise among those that were more
amorous of hir bodie than curious of hir soule." She lived to a great
age, but in great distress and miserable poverty; deserted even by those
to whom she had, during prosperity, done the most essential services.
From this time the Cross continually occurs in history. "It was used not
only for the instruction of mankind by the doctrine of the preacher, but
for every purpose, political or ecclesiastical; for giving force to
oaths; for promulgating of laws, or rather the royal pleasure; for royal
contracts of marriage; for the emission of papal bulls; for
anathematizing sinners; for benedictions; for exposing of penitents
under the censure of the church; for recantations; for the private ends
of the ambitious; and for the defaming of those who had incurred the
displeasure of crowned heads."
Bishop King preached the last sermon here, of any note, before James I.,
and his court on _Midlent Sunday_, 1620. The object of the sermon was
the repairing of the cathedral; and the ceremony was conducted with so
much magnificence, that the prelate exclaims, in a part of his
sermon,--"But will it almost be believed, that a King should come from
his court to this crosse, where princes seldom or never come, and that
comming to bee in a state, with a kinde of sacred pompe and procession,
accompanied with all the faire _flowers_ of his field, and the fairest
_rose_ (the Queen) of his owne garden!" The cross was demolished by
order of Parliament in 1643, executed by the willing hands of Isaac
Pennington, the fanatical Lord Mayor of that year, who died a convicted
regicide in the Tower. It stood at the north-east end of St. Paul's
Churchyard; a print of the cross, and likewise the shrouds, where the
company sat in wet weather, may be seen in Speed's Theatre of Great
Britain.
J.R.S.
* * * * *
ADA.
(_For the Mirror_.)
She stood in the midst of that gorgeous throng,
Her praise was the theme of every tongue;
Warriors were there, whose glance of fire
Spoke to their foes of vengeance dire,
But they were enslaved by beauty's power,
And knelt at her shrine in that moonlit bower.
Sweet words were breathed in Ada's ear
By many a noble cavalier;
Maidens with fairy steps were there,
Who seemed to float on the ambient air,
But none in the mazy dance could move
Like Ada, the queen of this bower of love!
The moon in her silvery beauty shines
On this joyous throng through the lofty pines;
Lamps gleaming forth from every tree,
All was splendour and revelry;
Sweet perfumes were wafted by every breeze
From the flowering shrubs and the orange trees,
Mingling with sounds which were borne along
From the lover's lute and the minstrel's song;
Fair Ada's praise was the theme of all,
She was the queen of this festival.
* * * * *
She left the crowd and wandered on--
Where, oh where is the maiden gone?
She hears no longer the minstrel's lay,
The last sweet notes have died away,
Like the low, faint sound of maiden's sigh.
When the youth that she loves is standing by.
* * * * *
But where, oh where is Ada gone?
She is kneeling in a dungeon lone;
Her fillet of snowy pearls has now
Fall'n from its throne on her whiter brow,
And her fair, rich tresses, like floods of gold,
Gleam on the floor so damp and cold.
Her cheek is pale, but her eye of blue
Now wears a bright and more glorious hue;
It tells of a maiden's constancy,
Of her faith in the hour of adversity;
On a pallet of straw in that gloomy cell,
Is a captive knight whom she loves so well,
That she's left her joyous and splendid bower
To dwell with him in his dying hour,
To pillow his head on her breast of snow,
To kiss the dew from his pallid brow;
With smiles to chase the thoughts of gloom
Which darken his way to an early tomb,
To shed no tear, and to heave no sigh,
Though her heart is breaking in agony.