Rambles in an Old City Part 12

"Misses, the tale that I relate, This lesson seems to carry- Choose not alone a proper mate, But proper time to marry?"

The list of pageantries and festivals must now close, with an attempt to chronicle the glories of a modern "chairing day;" and the more imperative does it seem to find a place in history for this last stray sunbeam of mediaeval splendour, that it bids fair, amidst the growth of sobriety in this utilitarian age, to share all, too soon, the fate of its ancestors, who found their grave in the first "dissolution" and after-flood of Puritanism. There may be who would liken this relic of pageantry to a lingering mote of feudalism, that the penetrating broom of reform had done well to sweep from the pathway of a "free and enlightened people;"

who would hint that the old custom is more honoured in the breach than the observance; and towards their opinion seems to incline that of the chief performers in the modern "_mystery_"-the M.P. himself, whose nerves, proprieties, and objections have unitedly rebelled against submission to these antiquated practices of this antiquated place. It is therefore scarcely what _is_, but what _has been_, that we have to commemorate in our detail.

When the onerous duty of selecting a representative of the people's voice, wishes, and will in the councils of the nation has been completed by the calm, deliberate, dispa.s.sionate, and disinterested decision of the enfranchised t.i.the of the city's populace, the successful candidates are, or _were_, wont to receive installation from the hands of their const.i.tuents by a "toss up," not, we would inform our countrymen of the "_sheeres_," (meaning all other counties save Norfolk, Suffolk, and Kent)-not that they engage in any little gambling speculation, such as is usually known under a similar name, but that they are required to submit to be made shuttlec.o.c.ks for some few hours, for the amus.e.m.e.nt of the admiring mult.i.tude; and seeing that the fun and frolic thus afforded is, or _was_, the sole share of nine-tenths of the population in the transaction of electing the "unruly member" that is to speak the hopes, wants, dissatisfactions, and grumblings of a large city, it may seem somewhat hard to them that they should be deprived of it. The order of carrying out this provincial mode of installation, consists in forming a grand procession, as it is called, made up of as many carriages and hors.e.m.e.n as the stables of the city and neighbourhood, private and public, may contrive to turn out, the _colour_ and popularity of the candidate of course exercising its influence upon _quant.i.ty_ and _quality_. The days of velvet doublets and liveries of silver and gold being pa.s.sed, the candidate makes no pretensions to display in the toilettes of the gentlemen-plain, sober black predominates throughout the ma.s.s; no shadow of a variation, save and except in the "dramatis personae," who take their stand upon the battledores provided for them, arrayed in full court costume or regimentals, as the case may be. To particularize more closely, it should be stated, that the battledores, as we have chosen to designate them, are wooden platforms, borne upon the shoulders of some two or three dozen men; the platform supports a chair elaborately ornamented, blue and silver, or purple and orange, as the successful candidates may be _blues_ or _purples_-Whigs or Tories.

Besides the chair, the platform supports the fortunate M.P. himself, standing, aided in balancing himself in the elevated pinnacle of glory to which he has attained, by the back or elbows of the chair, which piece of luxury, we presume, must be intended solely as a symbol of the easy berth in prospect, since throughout the long sunny scorching perambulations of city streets and market-place, it may seldom, if ever, be ventured to be indulged in as a resting place. Meantime, every window, balcony, house-top, church-tower, and parapet-wall, has been lined with anxious and eager lookers-on-every s.p.a.ce and avenue leading to or adjoining the line of march has been thronged; flags, banners, &c. &c., have been marshalled into the procession, whose pathway is cleared and protected by a locomotive body-guard of _posse men_, bearing horizontally in their hands long poles, which are presumed to act as barriers to the encroachments of the mult.i.tude without the pale. The line of procession once formed, in due order they make their triumphal progress, bowing, smiling, and trembling on their elevations, as they draw near to the thronging frontage of any loyal const.i.tuent, whose colours are a signal for the game to commence. Up, then, goes the M.P. high in the air,-once, twice, thrice, again and again, fortunate and clever if he comes down perpendicularly. Perfection and elegance in the peculiar _pas de seal_ requires much practice and many experiments; but as the _move_ is repeated very frequently, at very short intervals, during the progress round the city, possibly one experience may suffice in a life-time. The exhibition is occasionally closed by the bearers of the two candidates making a match with each other as to who can toss longest and highest, which done, the victimized shuttlec.o.c.ks and the delighted spectators are permitted to retire. The origin of this very singular act of homage is not very clear; but as one or two recent outbursts of popular enthusiasm have manifested themselves in a similar form-to wit, laying violent hands upon a popular favourite and tossing him in the air, with neither platform or chair to lend grace to the proceeding-we must suppose that some traditionary virtue is attached to the act; and this supposition is somewhat confirmed by the fact that a superst.i.tious practice of "lifting"

or "heaving," very similar in its mode of operation, is still observed on Easter Monday and Tuesday in some other English counties. The men and women on these days alternately exercise the privilege of seizing and "lifting" any member of the opposite s.e.x that they may chance to meet, and claim a fee for the honour. In the records of the Tower of London, may be found a doc.u.ment purporting to set forth how such payment was made to certain ladies and maids of honour for "taking" (or "lifting") King Edward I. at Easter, a custom then prevalent throughout the kingdom.

Brande gives an amusing account of an occurrence in Shrewsbury, extracted from a letter from Mr. Thomas Loggan, of Basinghall Street. He says, "I was sitting alone last Easter Tuesday at breakfast, at the Talbot, in Shrewsbury, when I was surprised by the entrance of all the female servants of the house handing in an arm-chair, lined with white, and decorated with ribbons and favours of all kinds. I asked them what they wanted; they said they came to 'heave' me; it was the custom of their place, and they hoped I would take a seat in the chair. It was impossible not to comply with a request so modestly made by a set of nymphs in their best apparel, and several of them under twenty. I wished to see all the ceremony, and seated myself accordingly; the group then lifted me from the ground, turned the chair about, and I had the felicity of a salute from each. I told them I supposed there was a fee due, and was answered in the affirmative; and having satisfied the damsels in this respect, they retired to 'heave' others."

The usage is said to be a vulgar commemoration of the event which the festival of Easter celebrates. Lancas.h.i.+re, Staffords.h.i.+re, and Warwicks.h.i.+re still retain the Easter custom.

Whether or not the notable Norfolk "chairing" takes its origin from the same is open to question; _possibility_ there is without doubt that it does so. Be it as it may, it must, we fear, be numbered among the departed joys of the poor folks.

CHAPTER VII.

SUPERSt.i.tIONS.

_Superst.i.tions_.-_Witchcraft_.-_Heard's Ghost_.-_Wise Men and Women_.-_Sayings by Mrs. Lubbock_.-_Prophecies_.-_Treasure Trove_.-_Confessions of Sir William Stapleton and Sir Edward Neville_.-_Cardinal Wolsey supposed to have been conversant with Magic_.-_Effect of Superst.i.tion on the Great and n.o.ble in Early Times_.

Forby, in his "Vocabulary of East Anglia," has described the whole of this district of the country as barren of superst.i.tions or legendary lore. Its characteristics are adverse to the growth of that natural poetry in the minds of the people which gives birth to nymphs, water-sprites, elves, or demons. It has neither woods, mountains, rocks, caverns, nor waterfalls, to be the nurseries of such genii; its plains are cultivated, its rivers navigable, its hills and valleys furrowed by the plough, even to the very bas.e.m.e.nt of any lingering ruin of tower or steeple that may be scattered amongst them. How much more, therefore, may we expect to find a dearth of such literature in the heart of the great city, where the struggles of working-day life among looms and factories, leave little time or room for aught else than the stern _realities_ of existence to be known or felt?

But every where there exist some fragments of superst.i.tion, poetical or uncouth; and we may not feel surprise that among such a people as the lower orders of society, in an East Anglian manufacturing city, they should bear little trace of the refinement which beautiful and romantic scenery and occupation are wont in other scenes to throw over them.

Rarely do we hear of a haunted house, or a walking ghost; but not unseldom do we see the horse-shoe nailed over the door-way of the cottage, as an antidote to the power of witchcraft,-nor is it uncommon to hear among the poor, of charms to cure diseases, of divinations by _wise men_ and _wise women_, who by mystic rites pretend to discover lost or stolen property,-nor even of animals bewitched, exercising direful influence over the lives and health of human beings. Within the limits of this age of enlightenment and civilization, many are the recorded facts of this nature, and many more of continual recurrence might be added, in ill.u.s.tration of the truth, that the lowest and grossest forms of vulgar superst.i.tion yet lurk about in the purlieus and by-ways of the old city.

Not long since, a woman, holding quite a respectable rank among the working cla.s.ses, and in her way a perfect "_character_" avowed herself determined "to _drown'd_ the cat," as soon as ever her baby, which was lying ill, should die; for which determination the only explanation she could offer was, that the cat jumped upon the nurse's lap, as the baby lay there, soon after it was born, from which time it ailed, and ever since that time, the cat had regularly gone under its bed once a day and coughed twice. These mysterious actions of poor "Tabby," were a.s.signed as the cause of the baby wasting, and its fate was to be sealed as soon as that of the poor infant was decided. That the baby happened to be the twenty-fourth child of his mother, who had succeeded in rearing four only of the two dozen, was a fact that seemed to possess no weight whatever in her estimation. The same strong-minded individual, for in many respects she _is_ wonderfully strong-minded, scruples not to avow greater faith in the magical properties of red wool, tied round a finger or an arm, in curing certain ailments of the frame, than in many a remedy prescribed by "doctor's" skill; nor has the theoretical belief been altogether unsupported by practice; on more than one occasion, she will aver, her own life has thus been saved.

As for divinations and charms, to doubt their faith in them would be to discredit the evidence of our senses. A poor washerwoman, but a few years since, who possessed more honesty than wisdom, happened to lose some linen belonging to one of her employers. _Suspecting_ it to have been stolen, she repaired to a _wise man_, who, of course, succeeded in convincing her, upon the payment of half-a-crown, that her surmise was correct; but as it helped her no further towards its recovery, it only added to the expense her honesty prompted her to go to, to replace it, which she secretly contrived to do, and offered it to her employer, with a statement of the facts.

These are but faint specimens of the "vulgar errors" that are every day to be met with among the citizens, oftentimes attested more by deeds than words; for many will in secret consult the _wise_ people, and pay them well, who would still shrink from openly acknowledging faith in their revelations or predictions.

Though haunted houses are rare, there still are some known to exist;-one respectable, elderly maiden, yet amongst us, has veritable tales of refractory spirits, that took twelve clergymen to read them down, and of one who haunted some particular closet, where at last he submitted to priestly authority, a cable and a hook being firmly fixed in the floor of the closet to bind him. We rather fancy some of the other legends that we have heard from the same authority, are but variations of the story of Heard's spirit, that haunted the Alder Carr Fen Broad, which a.s.sumed the appearance of a Jack-o'-Lantern, and refused to be "laid!" the gentlemen who attempted it failing, because he always kept a verse ahead of them, until a boy brought a couple of pigeons, and laid down before the Will-o'-the-wisp, who, looking at them, lost his verse, and then they succeeded in binding his spirit.

_This_, and many other tales, have been collected by the rector of the parish of Irstead, from an old woman living there; and they contain so much that is amusing, that we cannot forbear repeating them for the benefit of those who have not had the opportunity of seeing the papers of the Archaeological Society. Mrs. Lubbock is an old washerwoman, who, left a widow with several children, has maintained herself "independently" up to her eightieth year, without applying even for out-door parish relief, until the cold winter of 1846 made her, as she expresses it, _sick_ for crumbs like the birds. Education she has had none, that is, of book learning, but she seems to have had a father, given to anecdote, from whom she professes to have heard most of the "saws" and tales of which she has such a profusion. She mentions the practice, among her acquaintance, of watching the church porch on St. Mark's eve, when, at midnight, the watcher may see all his acquaintance enter the church: those who were to die remained, those who were to marry went in couples and came out again. This, one Staff had seen; but he would not tell the names of those who were to die or be married.

On Christmas-eve, she says, at midnight the cows and cattle rise and turn to the east; and the horses in the stable, as far as their halters permit. She says that a farmer once observing the reverent demeanour of the horse, who will leisurely stay some time upon his knees moving his head about and blowing over the manger, remarked, "Ah, they have more wit than we;" which brings to mind an anecdote, related by an ear witness, of a controversy that took place in this city among some cattle-drovers, when an Irishman and Roman Catholic supported the claims of his religion by commenting upon the invariable practice amongst those of his own cla.s.s, of saying their prayers before retiring to rest; whereas, added he, "among you Protestants the _horse_ is the only real Christian that I ever met with, who kneels before he goes to sleep and when he gets up."

That there is too much ground for the satire no one can doubt.

The Rosemary is said to flower on old Christmas-day, and Mrs. Lubbock says that she recollects, on one occasion, a great argument about which was the real Christmas-day, and to settle the point three men agreed to decide by watching that plant. They gathered a bunch at eleven o'clock at night of the old Christmas-day; it was then in bud. They threw it upon the table, and did not look at it until after midnight, when they went in, and found the bloom just dropping off.

Concerning the weather, she says, when a sundog (or two black spots to be seen by the naked eye) comes on the south side of the sun, there will be fair weather; when on the north, there will be foul. "The sun then fares to be right muddled and crammed down by the dog."

Of the moon, she says-

"Sat.u.r.days new and Sundays full Never was good, and never _wull_.

"If you see the old moon with the new, there will be stormy weather.

"If it rains on a Sunday before ma.s.s, It rains all the week, more or less.

"If it rains on a Sunday before the church doors are open, it will rain all the week, more or less; or else we shall have three rainy Sundays.

"If it rains the first Thursday after the moon comes in, it will rain, more or less, all the while the moon lasts, especially on Thursdays.

"If there be bad weather, and the sun does not s.h.i.+ne all the week, it will always show forth some time on the Sat.u.r.day.

"It will not be a hard winter when acorns abound, and there are no hips nor haws:

"If _Noah's Ark shows_ many days together, There will be foul weather.

"On three nights in the year it never lightens (_i.e._ clears up) anywhere; and if a man knew those nights, he would not turn a dog out.

"We shall have a severe winter when the swallows and martins take great pains to teach their young ones to fly; they are going a long journey, to get away from the cold that is coming. It is singular they should know this, but they do.

"The weather will be fine when the rooks play pitch-halfpenny-_i.e._ when, flying in flocks, some of them stoop down and pick up worms, imitating the action of a boy playing pitch-halfpenny.

"There will be severe winter and deep snow when snow-banks (_i.e._ white fleecy clouds) hang about the sky."

In 1845, she knew there would be a failure of some crop, "because the evening star _rode so low_. The leading star (_i.e._ the last star in the Bear's Tail) was above it all the summer the potato blight occurred."

She feared the failure would have been in the wheat, till she saw the _man's face_ in it, and then she was comfortable, and did not think of any other crop. Her opinion was, that the potato blight was caused by the lightning, because the turf burnt so _sulphurously_. "The lightning," she says, "carries a burr round the moon, and makes the _roke_ (fog) rise in the marshes, and smell strong."

A failure in the "Ash Keys," she p.r.o.nounces a sign of a change in the government.

"If the hen moult before the c.o.c.k, We get a winter as hard as a rock; If the c.o.c.k moult before the hen, We get a winter like a spring.

"She put plenty of salt in the water while was.h.i.+ng clothes, to keep the thunder out, and to keep away foul spirits."

Of Good Friday, she says,

"If work be done on that day, it will be so unlucky, that it will have to be done over again."

The story of Heard's Ghost she accompanies by an anecdote of one Finch, of Neatishead, who was walking along the road after dark, and saw a dog which he thought was d.i.c.k Allard's, that had snapped and snarled at him at different times. Thinks he, "you have _upset_ me two or three times; I will upset you now. You will not turn out of the road for me; and I will not turn out of the road for you." Along came the dog, straight in the middle of the road, and Finch kicked at him, and his foot went through him, as through a sheet of paper-he could compare it to nothing else; he was quite astounded, and nearly fell backwards from the force of the kick.

She says that she has heard that the spirits of the dead haunt the places where treasures were hid by them when living, and that those of the Roman Catholics still frequent the spots where their remains were disturbed, and their graves and monuments destroyed. Alas! what a ghost-besieged city must poor Norwich be in such a case!

Of the cuckoo, she says, "When evil is coming, he sings low among the bushes, and can scarcely get his "cuckoo" out. In the last week before he leaves, he always tells all that will happen in the course of the year till he comes again-all the s.h.i.+pwrecks, storms, accidents, and everything. If any one is about to die suddenly, or to lose a relation, he will light upon touchwood, or a rotten bough, and "cuckoo."

"He is always here three months to a day, and sings all the while. The first of April is the proper day for him to come, and when he does so, there is sure to be a good and early harvest. If he does not come till May, then the harvest is into October. If he sings long after midsummer, there will be a Michaelmas harvest. If any one hears the cuckoo first when in bed, there is sure to be illness or death to him or one of his family."

Among her saws are-

"Them that ever mind the world to win, Must have a black cat, a howling dog, and a crowing hen.

"If youth could know what age do crave, _Sights_ of pennies youth would save.

"They that wive Between sickle and scythe, Shall never thrive."