Зображення сторінки
PDF
ePub

entertaining is to tell gross stories; the demoiselles sit and say nothing, simper and look pretty: what a pity it is that time should change them into coarse, hardfeatured commères, like their mothers! The way in Normandy is to dine very early, and remain all the evening in the dinner-room, instead of going into a fresh apartment to take coffee. Agrestilla does not fail to conform to the latter plan in Paris, because people of fashion do so, and Agrestilla is a fashionable woman, but she wonders I should object to the smell of the dinner "in the country." I have been strongly tempted to the crime of sacrilege by robbing the church for wax candles, none being to be got at "the shop." My incapacity for rural enjoyments and simple habits is manifest to Agrestilla, from my absurdly objecting to the smell of tallow-candles "in the country." Agrestilla's rooms are profusely lighted with wax in Paris, "but nobody thinks of such a thing' in the country' for nearly a month or two,"- -as if life were not made up of months, weeks, and hours!

I am afraid, Mr. Editor, that I may have wearied you by my prolixity, but since all acumen of taste is to disappear, when we pass the bills of mortality, I will hope that my communication may prove good enough to be read-in the country.

FEMALE FRIENDSHIP.

Joy cannot claim a purer bliss,

Nor grief a dew from stain more clear, Than female friendship's meeting kiss, Than female friendship's parting tear. How sweet the heart's full bliss to pour To her, whose smile must crown the store! How sweeter still to tell of woes

To her, whose faithful breast would share In every grief, in every care,

Whose sigh can lull them to repose! Oh! blessed sigh! there is no sorrow, But from thy breath can sweetness borrow; E'en to the pale and drooping flower That fades in love's neglected hour; E'en with her woes can friendship's pow'r One happier feeling blend : 'Tis from her restless bed to creep, And sink like wearied babe to sleep, On the soft couch her sorrows steep,

The bosom of a friend.

N.

[blocks in formation]

Miss Mitford.

* Examiner, Feb. 12, 1815.

[graphic][subsumed][merged small][merged small]

For the Table Book.

I remember reading in that excellent little periodical, "The Cigar," of the red nose of the friar of Dillow, which served the holy man in the stead of a lantern, when he crossed the fens at night, to visit the fair lady of the sheriff of Gloucestershire. Whether the nose of the well-known eccentric now under consideration ever lighted his path, when returning from Shincliffe

OLD SONG.

feast, or Houghton-le-spring hoppingwhether it ever

66

Brightly beam'd his path above,
And lit his way to his ladye love "-

this deponent knoweth not; but, certainly, if ever nose could serve for such purposes, it is that of Hut. Alderson, which is the reddest in the city of Durham-save and excepting, nevertheless, the nose of fat Hannah, the Elvet orange-woman. Yes, Hut. thou portly living tun! thou animated lump of obesity! thou hast verily a most jolly nose! Keep it out of my sight, I

pray thee! Saint Giles, defend me from its scorchings! there is fire in its mere pictorial representation! Many a time, I ween, thou hast mulled thine ale with it, when sitting with thy pot companions at Morralies!

Hutchinson Alderson, the subject of the present biographical notice, is the wellknown bellman of the city of Durham. Of his parentage and education I am ignorant, but I have been informed by him, at one of his "visitations," that he is a native of the place, where, very early in life, he was "bound 'prentice to a shoemaker," and where, after the expiration of his servitude, he began business. During the period of the threatened invasion of this nation by the French, he enlisted in the Durham militia; but I cannot correctly state what office he held in the regiment; the accounts on the subject are very conflicting and contradictory. Some have informed me he was a mere private, others that he was a corporal; and a wanton wag has given out that he was kept by the regiment, to be used as a beacon, in cases of extraordinary emergency. Certain it is that he was in the militia, and that during that time the accident occurred which destroyed his hopes of military promotion, and rendered him unable to pursue his ordinary calling-I allude to the loss of his right hand, which happened as follows:-A Durham lady, whose husband was in the habit of employing Alderson as a shoemaker, had a favourite parrot, which, on the cage door being left open, escaped, and was shortly afterwards seen flying from tree to tree in a neighbouring wood. Alderson, on being made acquainted with the circumstance, proceeded with his gun to the wood, where, placing himself within a few yards of the bird, he fired at it, having previously poured a little water into the muzzle, which he thoughtlessly imagined would have the effect of bringing down the bird, without doing it material injury; but, unhappily, the piece exploded, and shattered his right hand so dreadfully, that immediate amputation was rendered necessary.

For some time after this calamity, Alderson's chief employment consisted in taking care of gentlemen's horses, and cleaning knives. He was then appointed streetkeeper; and, during the short time he held that office, discharged its duty in a very impartial manner-I believe to the entire satisfaction of all the inhabitants. He has also, at different periods, been one of the constables of the parish of Saint Mary le Bow. About the year 1822, the office of

bellman to the city of Durham became vacant, by resignation, upon which Hut. immediately offered himself as a candidate and, from there being no opposition, and his being a freeman, he was installed by the unanimous voice of every member of the corporation, and he has accordingly discharged the duties of bellman ever since. It is in that capacity our artist has represented him in the cut at the head of the present sketch. But Hut. Alderson is the wearer of other dignities.

About three miles from Durham is a beautiful little hamlet, called Butterby, and in ancient deeds Beautrove,* and Beautrovensis, from the elegance of its situation; and certainly its designation is no misnomer, for a lovelier spot the imagination cannot picture. The seclusion of its walks, the deep shade of its lonely glens, and the many associations connected with it, independently of its valuable mineral waters, conspire to render it a favourite place of resort; and, were I possessed of the poetic talent of veterinary doctor Marshall, I should certainly be tempted to immortalize its many charms in a sonnet. Butterby was formerly a place of considerable note; the old manor-house there, whose haunted walls are still surrounded by a moat, was once the residence of Oliver Cromwell, whose armorial bearings still may be seen over one of the huge, antique-fashioned fire-places. In olden time, Butterby had a church, dedicated to saint Leonard, of which not a visible vestige is remaining; though occasionally on the spot which antiquaries have fixed upon as its site, divers sepulchral relics have been discovered. Yet, to hear many of the inhabitants of Durham talk, a stranger would naturally believe that the hamlet is still in possession of this sacred edifice; for "Butterby-church" is there spoken of, not as a plate adorning the antiquarian page, nor even as a ruin to attract the gaze of the moralizing tourist, but as a real, substantial, bona fide structure the fact is, that, in the slang of Durham, (for the modern Zion + has its slang as well as the modern Babylon,) a Butterby church-goer is one who does not frequent any church; and when such an one is asked, “What church have you attended to-day?" the customary answer is, "I have been attending service at Butterby." About the year 1823, there appeared in one of the London journals an account of a marriage, said to have been solemnized at But

Vide Mr. Dixon's View of Durham, +Ibid.

terby-church, between two parties who never existed but in the fertile brain of the writer of the paragraph, "By the Rev. Hutchinson Alderson, rector." From that time, Hut. Alderson began to be designated a clergyman, and was speedily dubbed A. M. Merit will rise, and therefore the A. M. became D. D., and Alderson himself enjoyed the waggery, and insisted on the young gentlemen of the place touching their hats, and humbling themselves when his reverence passed.

Not content with the honours which already, like laurel branches, had encircled his brow, Hut. aspired to still greater distinction, and gave out that Butterby was a bishop's see, that the late parochial church was a cathedral, and, in fine, that the late humble rector was a lordly bishop-THE RIGHT REVEREND HUTCHINSON ALDERSON LORD BISHOP of BUTTERBY, or HUT. BUT. Having thus dubbed himself, he next proceeded to the proper formation of his cathedral; named about ten individuals as prebends, (among whom were the writer of this sketch, and his good friend his assistant artist,) chose a dean and archdeacon, and selected a few more humble individuals to fill the different places of sexton, organist, vergers, bell-ringers, &c., and soon began, in the exercise of his episcopal functions, to give divers orders, oral and written, respecting repairs of the church, preaching of sermons, &c. The last I recollect was a notice, delivered to one of the prebends by the bishop in propria persona, intimating that, owing to the church having received considerable damage by a high flood, he would not be required to officiate there till further notice.

A cathedral is nothing without a tutelary saint, and accordingly Butterby-church has been dedicated to saint Giles. Several

articles have been written, and privately circulated, descriptive of the splendid architecture of this imaginary edifice; every arch has had its due meed of approbation, and its saint has been exalted in song, almost as high as similar worthies of the Roman catholic church. A legend has been written-I beg pardon, found in one of the vaults of Bear-park,-containing an account of divers miracles performed by saint Giles; which legend is doubtless as worthy of credit, and equally true, as some of Alban Butler's, or the miracles of prince Hohenlohe and Thomas à Becket. Happening to have a correct copy of the composition to which I allude, I give it, with full persuasion that by so doing I shall confer a signal obligation on the rest of my brother

prebends, some of whom are believers in its antiquity, though, I am inclined to think, it is, like the ancient poems found in Redcliffe-church, and published by the unfortunate Chatterton-all "Rowley powley," &c. I have taken the liberty to modernize the spelling.

SAINT GILES

His Holie Legend:

WRITTEN IN LATIN, BY FATHER PETER, MONK OF BEAUPAIRE, AND DONE INTO ENGLISH THIS YEAR OF REDEMPTION, 1555, BY MASTER JOHN WALTON, SCHOOLMASTER, ST. MAGDALENE HER CHAPEL YARD DURHAM: AND DEDICATED TO OUR GOOD QUEEN MARY, WHOM GOD LONG PRESErve.

1.

O did ye ne'er hear of saint Giles,

The saint of fam'd Butterby steeple?
There ne'er was his like seen for miles,

Pardie, he astonied the people!
His face was as red as the sun,
His eyne were a couple of sloes, sir,
His belly was big as a tun,

And he had a huge bottle nose, sir;
O what a strange fellow was he!
2.

Of woman he never was born,

And wagers have been laid upon it; They found him at Finchale one morn, Wrapp'd up in an heavenly bonnet: The prior was taking his rounds,

As he was wont after his brickfast, He heard most celestial sounds, And saw something in a tree stick fast, Like a bundle of dirty old clothes.

3.

Quite frighten'd, he fell on his knees,

And said thirteen aves and ten credos, When the thing in the tree gave a sneeze,

And out popp'd a hand, and then three toes! Now, when he got out of his faint,

He approach'd, with demeanour most humble, And what should he see but the saint, Not a copper the worse from his tumble, But lying all sound wind and limb.

4.

Says the prior, "From whence did you come,

Or how got you into my garden ?" But the baby said nothing but mum

And for the priest car'd not a farden: At length, the saint open'd his gob,

And said, "I'm from heaven, d'ye see, sir, Now don't stand there scratching your nob, But help me down out of the tree, sir,

Or I'll soon set your convent a-blaze!"

371

5.

[blocks in formation]

Thus saying he bent his way home,

Now mark the event which has follow'd, The fount has from that time become

A cure for sick folks-for its hallow'd: And many a pilgrim goes there

From many a far distant part, sir,
And, piously uttering a prayer,

Blesses the saint's pious heart, sir,
That gave to the fount so much grace.
10.

At Finchale his saintship did dwell,
Till the devil got into the cloister,
And left the bare walls as a shell,

And gulp'd the fat monks like an oyster :
So the saint was enforced to quit,

But swore he'd the fell legions all amuse, And back their coin every whit, pay

Tho' his hide should be flay'd like Bartholemew's, And red as Saint Dunstan's red nose.

11.

Another church straight he erected,

Which for its sanctity fam'd much is, Where sinners and saints are protected, And kept out of Belzebub's clutches: And thus in the eve of his days

He still paternosters and aves sung, His lungs were worn threadbare with praise, Till death, who slays priors, rest gave his tongue And sent him to sing in the spheres !

12.

It would be too long to tell here

Of how, when or where, the monks buried him, Suffice it to say, it seems clear

That somewhere or other they carried him.
His odd life by death was made even,
He popp'd off on one of Lent Sundays,
His corpse was to miracles given,
And his choristers sung " De profundis
Clamavi ad te Domine!"

Finis coronat opus.

Such is the extraordinary legend of saint Giles, which I leave the antiquaries to sit in judgment on, and with which I quit the subject of Butterby-church, wishing that its good bishop may long continue in peaceful possession of the see, and in full enjoyment of all the honours and revenues connected therewith.

As relating to Butterby, I may be allowed perhaps to mention, that this place has afforded considerable amusement to many young men of wit and humour. About twenty years ago, the law students, then in Durham, instituted what they called the "Butterby manor court," and were in the habit of holding a sham court at a public-house there. A gentleman, who is now in London, and one of the most eminent men in the profession, used to preside as steward; and was attended by the happy and cheerful tenantry, who did suit and service, constituted a homage, and performed other acts and deeds, agreeable to the purpose for which they were duly and truly summoned, and assembled.

Hitherto, little has been said respecting the personal appearance and character of Hut. Alderson, and therefore, without further circumvolution, I hasten to add, that he is fifty years of age "and upwards," of the middle size and rather corpulent, of a very ruddy countenance, is possessed of a vast fund of anecdote, and is at all times an agreeable and humorous companion. He may generally be seen parading the streets of Durham, as represented by my brother prebend. Considering his humble rank in society, he is well-informed; and if he has

« НазадПродовжити »