Born: John de la
Fontaine, French writer of tales and fables, 1621,
Chdteau-Thierry.
Died: Peter the Hermit,
preacher of the first Crusade, 1108: Pope Gregory XV,
1623: Dr. Robert South, eminent English preacher,
1716: Second Marshal Villeroi, 1730: Jean Pierre
Niceron, useful writer, 1738, Paris; Jean Baseillac (Frere
Come), eminent French lithotomist, 1781; Torbern
Bergmann, Swedish chemist and naturalist, 1784, Medevi,
near Upsala; Edmund Burke,
statesman, orator, and
miscellaneous writer, 1797, Beaonlfield, Backs; Sir
Edward Parry, arctic voyager, 1855, Ems.
Feast Day: St.
Procopius, martyr, about 303; Saints Kilian, Colman,
and Totnan, martyrs, 688; St. Withburge, virgin, of
Norfolk, 743; St. Grimbald, abbot of New Minstre, 903;
Blessed Theobald, abbot of Vaux de Cernay, 1247; St.
Elizabeth, queen of Portugal, 1336.
PETER THE HERMIT
There is no more extraordinary
episode in the annals of the world, than the History
of the Crusades. To understand it, we must previously
have some sense of the leading form which had been
given to religion in the eleventh and twelfth
centuries�an intense contemplation of the sufferings
and merits of Christ, with a bound-less feeling of
gratitude and affection towards his name. Already had
this feeling caused multitudes to pilgrimise through
barbarous countries to pay their devotions on the
scene of his passion. It needed but an accident to
make the universal European sentiment take the form of
some wild and wonderful series of acts.
In the north of France, there
lived a man of low origin, named Peter, naturally
active and restless, but who by various causes was
drawn at last into a religions and anchoritic life, in
which he became liable to visions and spiritual
impulses, all thought by him to be divine. It was
impressed upon him that the Deity had constituted him
one of His special instruments on earth, and, as
usual, others soon came to view him in that character,
to thrill under his preachings, and to believe in his
miraculous gifts.
The rage for pilgrimages to
the East drew the hermit Peter from his retreat, and,
like the rest, he went to Jerusalem, where his
indignation was moved by the manner in which the
Christians were treated by the infidels. He heard the
relation of their sufferings from the lips of the
patriarch Simeon, and with him in private lamented
over them, and talked of the possibility of rescuing
the sufferers. It was in these conversations that the
project was formed of exciting the warriors of the
West to unite together for the recovery of the Holy
Land from the power of the infidels. Peter's
enthusiasm now led him to believe that he was himself
the man destined for this great work, and on one
occasion, when he was kneeling before the holy
sepulchre, he believed that he had a vision, in which
Jesus Christ appeared to him, announced to him his
mission, and ordered him to lose no time in setting
about it. Impressed with this idea, he left Palestine,
and proceeded to Rome, where Urban II was then pope.
Urban embraced the project
with ardour, treated. Peter the Hermit as a prophet,
and enjoined him to go abroad and announce the
approaching deliverance of Jerusalem. Peter thereupon
set out on his new pilgrimage. He rode on a mule,
bare-headed and bare-foot, clothed in a long frock and
a hermit's mantle of coarse woollen cloth, girded with
a rope. In this manner he proceeded through Italy,
crossed the Alps, and wandered through France and the
greater part of Europe, everywhere received as a
saint, and spreading among all classes an amazing
amount of zeal for the Crusade, which he was now
openly preaching. The enthusiasm which followed his
steps was wonderful: people crowded to obtain the
favour of touching his garments, and even the hairs of
his mule were preserved as holy relics. His miracles
were a subject of general conversation, and nobody
doubted for a moment the truth of his mission.
It was at this moment that the
ambassadors of the Emperor Alexis Comnemus arrived in
Rome, to represent to the pope the danger to which
Constantinople was exposed from the invasions of the
Turks, and to implore the assistance of the Western
Christians. Pope Urban called a council, which met at
Piacenza, in Lombardy, at the beginning of March 1095.
So great had been the effect of Peter's preaching,
that no less than 200 archbishops and bishops, 4000
other ecclesiastics, and 30,000 laymen attended this
council, which was held in the open air, in a plain
near the city: but various subjects divided its
attention, and it came to no decision relative to the
war against the infidels. The pope found that the
Italians, who were, even at this early period, less
bigoted. Catholics than the other peoples of Western
Europe, were not very enthusiastic in the cause, and
he resolved on calling another council, for the
especial object of deliberating on the holy war, and
in a country where he was likely to find more zeal.
Accordingly, this council assembled in the November of
the same year, at Clermont, in Auvergne: it was
equally numerous with that of Piacenza, and, which was
of most importance, Peter the Hermit attended in
person, seated on his mule, and in the costume in
which he had preached the Crusade through so many
countries.
After some preliminary
business had been transacted, Peter was brought
forward, and he described the sufferings of the
Christians in the East in such moving language, and
was so well seconded by the eloquence of the pope,
that the whole assembly was seized with a fit of wild
enthusiasm, and burst into shouts of, 'God wills it!
God wills it!''It is true,'exclaimed the pope, 'God
wills it, indeed, and you here see fulfilled the words
of our Saviour, who promised to be present in the
midst of the faithful when assembled in his name: it
is he who puts into your mouths the words I have just
heard: let them be your war-cry, and may they announce
everywhere the presence of the God of armies! The pope
then held forth a cross, and told them all to take
that as their sign, and wear it upon their breasts,
and the proposal was adopted amid a scene of the most
violent agitation. Ademar de Monteil, bishop of Puy,
advanced, and was the first to assume the cross, and
multitudes hastened to follow his example. They called
upon Urban to take the command of the expedition, but
he excused himself personally, and appointed to the
command, as his delegate, the zealous bishop of Puy,
who is said to have been distinguished as a warrior
before he became an ecclesiastic.
Thus began the first Crusade.
Armies�or rather crowds of men in arms�began now to
assemble in various parts, in order to direct their
march towards Constantinople. Among the first of these
was the multitude who followed the preaching of Peter
the Hermit, and who, impatient of delay, chose him for
their leader, and were clamorous to commence their
march. Peter, blinded by his zeal, accepted a position
for which he was totally without capacity, and placed
himself at their head, mounted on the same mule and in
the same costume in which he had preached. His troop,
starting from the banks of the Maas and the Moselle,
and consisting origin-ally of people of Champagne and
Burgundy, was soon increased by recruits from the
adjacent districts, until he numbered under his
command from 80,000 to 100,000 men. They came chiefly
from the simpler and more ignorant classes of society,
and they had been told so much of God's direct
interference, that they were led to believe that he
would feed and protect them on the road, and they did
not even take the precaution to carry provisions or
money with them. They expected to be supported by
alms, and they begged on the way.
Peter's army was divided into
two bodies, of which the first, commanded by a man
whose mean social position may be conjectured by his
name of Walter the Penniless (Gaultier sans Avoir),
marched in advance. They were received with enthusiasm
by the Germans, who crowded to the same standard, and
all went well until they came to the banks of the
Morava and the Danube, and encountered the Hungarians
and Bulgarians, both which peoples were nominally
Christians: but the former took no interest in the
Crusades, and the latter were not much better than
savages. Walter's band of Crusaders passed through
Hungary without any serious accident, and reached the
country of the Bulgarians, where, finding themselves
entirely destitute of provisions, they spread over the
country, plundering, murdering, and destroying, until
the population, flying to arms, fell upon them, and
made a great slaughter. Those who escaped, fled with
their leader towards Greece, and reached Nissa, the
governor of which place administered to their pressing
necessities: and, having learned by misfortune the
advantage of observing something like discipline, they
proceeded with more order till at length they reached
Constantinople, where they were treated well, and
allowed to encamp and await the other division, which
was approaching under the command of Peter the Hermit.
The zeal and incapacity of the
latter led him into still greater disasters. In their
passage through Hungary, the spots where some of the
followers of Walter the Moneyless had been
slaughtered, were pointed out to the Crusaders, and
they were told that the Hungarians had entered into a
plot for their destruction. Instead of enforcing the
necessity of caution and discipline, Peter talked of
vengeance, and sought only to inflame the passions of
his followers. On their arrival at Semlin, they beheld
the arms of some of the first band of Crusaders, who
had been slain, suspended as a trophy over the gates,
and Peter himself encouraged them to revenge their
comrades. The inhabitants abandoned the town, fled,
were overtaken, and 4000 of them slain, and their
bodies thrown into the Danube, the waters of which.
carried them down to Belgrade.
The Crusaders returned to
Semlin, which was given up to plunder, and they lived
there in the most licentious manner, until news came
that the Hungarians had assembled a great army to
attack them, and then they abandoned the town, and
hastened their march across Bulgaria. Everywhere the
violence and licentiousness of the Crusaders had
spread terror, and they now found the country
abandoned, and suffered fearfully from the want of
provisions. The people of Nissa had armed and
fortified themselves, so that the Crusaders did not
venture to attack them, but, having obtained a supply
of provisions, had continued their march, when the
ill-behaviour of their rear-guard provoked a
collision, in which a considerable number of the
Crusaders were slaughtered. Peter, informed of this
affair, instead of hastening his march, returned to
obtain satisfaction, and the irritating behaviour of
his troops provoked a still greater conflict, in which
10,000 of the Crusaders were slaughtered, and the rest
fled and took refuge in the woods and marshes of the
surrounding country. That night, Peter the Hermit, who
had taken refuge on a hill, had only 500 men about
him, but next day his band numbered 7000, and a few
days afterwards the number had been increased to
30,000. With these he continued his march, and, as
their disasters had rendered them more prudent, they
reached Constantinople without further misfortunes,
and rejoined their companions.
As the Emperor Alexis rather
despised this undisciplined horde than otherwise, he
received them with favour, and treated Peter the
Hermit with the greatest distinction: but he lost no
time in ridding himself of such troublesome visitors
by transporting them to the other side of the
Bosphorus. Those who had marched under the banner of
Peter the Hermit, had now been joined by the remains
of other similar hordes who had followed them, and who
had experienced still greater disasters in passing
through Hungary and Bulgaria: and, in addition to the
other causes of disorder, they now experienced that of
jealousy among themselves. They not only laid waste
the country, and committed every sort of atrocity, but
they quarrelled about the plunder: and, Peter himself
having lost his authority, various individuals sought
to be their leaders. The Italians and Germans, under
the conduct of a chieftain named Renaud, separated
from the rest of the army, left the camp which was
established in the
fertile country bordering on
the Gulf of Nicomedia, and penetrated into the
mountains in the neighbourhood of Nicaea, where they
were destroyed by the Turks. The main army of the
Crusaders, who now acknowledged the nominal authority
of Walter, but who paid little attention to the orders
of their chieftains, hastened imprudently to revenge
the Italians and Germans, and had reached the plain of
Nicaea, when they found themselves unexpectedly
surrounded by the numerous and better disciplined army
of the Turks, and, after a useless resistance, the
whole army was put to the sword, or carried into
captivity, and a vast mound of their bones was raised
in the midst of the plain.
Thus disastrously ended the
expedition of Peter the Hermit. Of 300,000 men who had
marched from Europe in the belief that they were going
to conquer the Holy Land, all had perished, dither in
the disasters of the route, or in the battle of Nicaea.
Peter had left them before this great battle,
disgusted with their vices and disorders, and had
returned to Constantinople, to declaim against them as
a horde of brigands, whose enormous sins had caused
God to desert them. From this time the Hermit became a
second-rate actor in the events of the Crusade. When
the more noble army of the Crusaders, under the
princes and great warriors of the West, arrived at
Constantinople, he joined them, and accompanied them
in their march, performing merely the part of an
eloquent and zealous preacher; but at the siege of
Antioch, he attempted to escape the sufferings of the
Christian camp by flight, and was pursued and
overtaken by Tancred, brought back, and compelled to
take an oath to remain faithful to the army. This
disgrace appears to have been wiped out by his
subsequent conduct; and he was among the first ranks
of the Crusaders who came in sight of Jerusalem. The
wearied warriors were cheered by the enthusiastic
eloquence with which he addressed them on the summit
of the Mount of Olives; and in the midst of the
slaughter, when the holy city was taken, the Christian
soldiers crowded round him, as people had crowded
round him when he first proclaimed the Crusade, and
congratulated him on the fulfilment of his prophecies.
Peter remained in the Holy
Land until 1102, when he returned to Europe, with the
Count of Montaign, a baron of the territory of Liege.
On their way they were overtaken by a dreadful
tempest, in which the Hermit made a vow to found a
monastery if they escaped shipwreck. It was in
fulfilment of this vow, that he founded the abbey of
Neufmoutier, at Huy, on the Maas, in honour of the
holy sepulchre. Here he passed the latter years of his
life, and died in 1115. In the last century, his tomb
was still preserved there, with a monumental
inscription.
BURKE'S ESTATE�HIS DAGGER-SCENE IN THE HOUSE OF
COMMONS
It is very clear from the
authentic biographies of
Edmund Burke, that he entered
upon
literary and political life in London with little or
no endowment beyond that which nature and a good
education had given him. He wrote for his bread for
several years, as many able but penniless Irishmen
have since done and continue to do.
At
length, when several years past thirty, merging into a
political career as private secretary, first to
Single-speech Hamilton, and afterwards to the Marquis
of Rockingham, he enters parliament for a small
English burgh, and soon after�all at once�in 1767�he
purchases an estate worth �23,000! In a large elegant
house, furnished with all the adjuncts of a luxurious
establishment, surrounded by 600 acres of his own
land, driving a carriage and four, Burke henceforth
appeared as a man of liberal and independent fortune.
When surly but pure-hearted Samuel Johnson was shewn
by him over all the splendours of Beaconsfield, he
said: 'Non equidem invideo�miror magis '�I do not
envy, I am only astonished; and then added, still more
significantly: 'I wish you all the success which can
be wished�by an honest man.' There was an unpleasant
mystery here, which it was reserved for modern times
to penetrate.
One theory on the subject, set
forth so lately as 1853, by an ingenious though
anonymous writer, was that Burke was mainly indebted
for the ability to purchase his estate to successful
speculations in Indian stock. In Macknight's able
work, The Life and Times of Edward Burke, published in
1858, an account of the transaction is given in
tolerably explicit terms, but without leaving the
character of Burke in the position which his admirers
might wish. 'In 1767,' says this writer, 'when Lord.
Rockingham refused to return again to office, and
Burke, though in very straitened circumstances,
adhered faithfully to his noble leader, it then
occurred to the marquis that it was incumbent on him
to do something for the fortune of his devoted friend.
He advanced �10,000 to Burke, on a bond that it was
understood would never be reclaimed. With those
�10,000, �5000 raised on mortgage from a Dr. Saunders
in Spring Gardens, and other �8000, doubtless obtained
from the successful speculations of William and
Richard Burke [his brothers] in Indian stock, Burke
purchased the estate of Gregories.
After the reverses of his
relatives in the year 1769, all the money they had
advanced to him was required. Lord Rockingham again
came forward. From that time through many years of
opposition, as Burke's fortune, so far from
increasing, actually diminished under his unvarying
generosity and the requirements of his position, this
noble friend was his constant and unfailing resource.
The loss of the agency for New York [by which Burke
had �1000 a year for a short time] the marquis
endeavoured to compensate by frequent loans. At the
time of Lord Rockingham's death [1782], he may, on
different occasions extending over fourteen years,
have perhaps advanced on bonds, which though never
formally required, Burke insisted on giving, the sum
of about thirty thousand pounds. It appears, in short,
that this brilliant statesman and orator maintained
his high historical place for thirty years, wholly
through pecuniary means drawn by him from a generous
friend. The splendid mansion, the vineries and
statuary, the four-horsed carriage, even the
kind-hearted patronage to such men of genius as Barry
and Crabbe, were all supported in a way that implies
the entire sacrifice of Burke's independence. It is
very sad to think of in one whom there was so much to
admire; but it only adds another and hereto-fore
undetected example to those we have, illustrating a
fact in our political system, that it is no sphere for
clever adventurers, independence in personal
circumstances being the indispensable prerequisite of
political independence.
Burke's dagger-scene in the
House of Commons is an obscure point in his life�no
one at the time gave any good account of it. On this
matter also we have latterly obtained some new light.
The great Whig, as is well known, was carried by the
French Revolution out of all power of sober judgment,
and made a traitor, it might be said, to all his old
affections. When at the height of the rabies, having
to speak on the second reading of the Alien Bill,
December 28, 1792, he called, in passing, at the
office of Sir Charles M. Lamb, under-secretary of
state. It was only three months from the massacres of
Paris. England was in high excitement about the
supposed existence of a party amongst ourselves, who
were disposed to fraternise with the ensanguined
reformers of France, and imitate their acts. Some
agent for that party had sent a dagger to a Birmingham
manufacturer, with an order for a large quantity after
the same pattern. It was a coarsely-made weapon, a
foot long in the blade, and fitted to serve equally as
a stiletto and as a pike-head.
The Birmingham
manufacturer, disliking the commission, had come up to
the under-secretary's office, to exhibit the pattern
dagger, and ask advice. He had left the weapon, which
Burke was thus enabled to see. The illustrious orator,
with the under-secretary's permission, took it along
with him to the House, and, in the course of a flaming
tirade about French atrocities, and probable
imitations of them in England, he drew the dagger from
his bosom, and threw it down on the floor, as an
illustration of what every man might shortly expect to
see levelled at his own throat. There were of course
sentiments of alarm raised by this scene; but probably
the more general feeling was one of derision. In this
way the matter was taken up by Gillray, whose
caricature on the subject we here reproduce in
miniature, as a curious memorial of a crisis in our
history, and also as giving a characteristic portrait
of one of our greatest men.
WILLIAM
HUNTINGTON'S EPITAPH
When a man's epitaph is
written by himself in anticipation of his death, there
may generally be found in it some indication of his
character, such as probably would not otherwise have
transpired. Such was certainly the case in reference
to William or the Rev. William Huntington, who loved
to couple the designations 'coal-heaver' and 'sinner
saved' with his name. On the 8th of July 1813, the
remains of this eccentric man were transferred from a
temporary grave at Tonbridge Wells to a permanent one
at Lewes. The stone at the head of the grave was
inscribed with an epitaph which he himself had written
a few days before his death�leaving a space, of
course, for the exact date. 'Here lies the
Coal-heaver, who departed this life (July 1, 1813), in
the (69th) year of his age; beloved of his God, but
abhorred by men. The Omniscient Judge, at the Great
Assize, shall ratify and confirm this, to the
confusion of many thousands; for England and its
metropolis shall know that there bath been a prophet
among them. W. H. S. S.�This S. S. meant 'sinner
saved.'
The career of the man affords
a clue to the state of mind which could lead to the
production of such an epitaph. William Hunt was born
in the Weald of Kent, of very poor parents. He
complained, in later life, that 'unsanctified critics'
laughed at him for his ignorance; and certain it is
that he never could get over the defects of his
education. He struggled for a living as an errand-boy,
then as a labourer, then as a cobbler. While engaged
in the last-named trade, he took up the business of a
preacher. He would place his work on his lap, and a
Bible on a chair beside him; and, while working for
his family, he collected materials for his next
sermon. At what time, or for what reason, he changed
his name from Hunt to Huntington, is not clear; but we
find him coming up from Thames-Ditton to London,
'bringing two large carts with furniture and other
necessaries, besides a post-chaise well filled with
children and cats.'
He became a preacher at
Margaret Street Chapel, and attached a considerable
number of persons to him by his peculiar denunciatory
style. In 1788, his admirers built him a chapel in
Gray's Inn Road, which he named 'Providence Chapel.'
When a person attributes to Providence the good that
comes to him, his sentiment is at all events worthy of
respect; but the peculiarity in Huntington's case was
the whimsical way in which everyday matters were thus
treated. When �9000 had been spent on the chapel,
various gifts of chairs, a tea-caddy full of tea, a
looking-glass, a bed and bedstead for the vestry,
'that I might not be under the necessity of walking
home in the cold winter nights'�are spoken of by him
as things that Providence had sent him. He had a keen
appreciation of worldly goods, however; for he refused
to officiate in the chapel until the freehold had been
made over absolutely to himself. Wishing afterwards to
enlarge his chapel a little, he applied for a bit of
ground near it from the Duke of Portland, but demurred
at the ground-rent asked. Therefore, says he, 'finding
nothing could be done with the earth-holders, I turned
my eyes another way, and determined to build my
stories in the heavens, where I should find more room
and less cost '�in plain English, he raised the
building another story.
His manner towards his hearers
was dogmatic and arrogant. Having once taken the
designation of 'Sinner Saved,' he observed no bounds
in addressing others. His pulpit-oratory, always
vigorous, was not unfrequently interlarded with such
expressions as�'Take care of your pockets!'�'Wake that
snoring sinner!'�'Silence that noisy
numb-skull!'�'Turn out that drunken dog!' With a
certain class of minds, however, Huntington had great
influence. Some time after the death of his first
wife, he married the widow of Sir
James Sanderson, at
one time lord mayor of London: by which alliance he
became possessed of much property. On one occasion, a
sale of some of his effects took place at his
residence at Pentonville, when sixty guineas were
given for an old arm-chair by one of his many
admirers. Two or three books which he published were
quite in character with the epitaph he afterwards
wrote�an intense personal vanity pervading all else
that might be good in him.
A KING AND
HIS DUMB FAVOURITES
King James
I, although a
remorseless destroyer of animals in the chase, had,
like many modern sportsmen, an intense fondness for
seeing them around him, happy and well cared for, in a
state of domesticity. In 1623, John Bannal obtained a
grant of the king's interest in the leases of two
gardens and a tenement in the Minories, on the
condition of building and maintaining a house, wherein
to keep and rear his majesty's newly imported
silkworms - Sir Thomas Dale, one of the settlers of
the then newly formed colony of Virginia, returning to
Europe on leave, brought with him many living
specimens of American zoology; amongst them, some
flying squirrels. This coming to his majesty's ears,
he was seized with a boyish impatience to add them to
the private menagerie in St. James's Park. At the
council-table, and in the circle of his courtiers, he
recurs again and again to the subject, wondering that
Sir Thomas had not given him the 'first pick' of his
cargo of curiosities. He reminded them how the
recently arrived Muscovite ambassador had brought him
live sables, and, what he loved even better, splendid
white gyrfalcons of Iceland; and when Buckingham
suggested that, in the whole of her reign, Queen
Elizabeth had never received live sables from the
czar, James made special inquiries if such were really
the case.
Henry Wriothesley, fourth Earl
of Southampton, one of the council, and governor and
treasurer of the Virginia Company, better known to us
as the friend and patron of Shakspeare, wrote as
follows to the state secretary, the Earl of Salisbury:
'Talking with the king by chance, I told him of the
Virginian squirrels, which they say will fly, whereof
there are now divers brought into England, and he
presently and very earnestly asked me if none of them
was provided for him, and whether your lordship had
none for him�saying he was sure Salisbury would get
him one of them. I would not have troubled you with
this, but that you know full well how he is affected
to these toys; and with a little inquiry of any of
your folks, you may furnish yourself to present him at
his coming to London, which will not be before
Wednesday next�the Monday before to Theobald's, and
the Saturday before to Royston.'
Some one of his loving
subjects, desirous of ministering to his favourite
hobby, had presented him with a cream-coloured fawn. A
nurse was immediately hired for it, and the Earl of
Shrewsbury commissioned to write as follows to Miles Whytakers, signifying the
royal pleasure as to future
procedure: 'The king's majesty hath commissioned me to
send this rare beast, a white hind calf, unto you,
together with a woman, his nurse, that hath kept it,
and bred it up. His majesty would have you see it be
kept in every respect as this good woman cloth desire,
and that the woman may be lodged and boarded by you,
until his majesty come to Theobald's on Monday next,
and then you shall know further of his pleasure. What
account his majesty maketh of this fine beast you may
guess, and no man can suppose it to be more rare than
it is, therefore I know that your care of it will be
accordingly. So in haste I bid you very heartily
farewell. At Whitehall, this 6th Nov. 1611.
'P. S. The wagon and the men
are to be sent home; only the woman is to stay with
you, until his majesty's coming hither, ,and as long
after as it shall please his majesty.'
About the year 1629, the king
of Spain effected an important diversion in his own
favour, by sending the king�priceless gift!�an
elephant and five camels. 'Going through London, after
midnight,' says a state-paper letter, 'they could not
pass unseen' and the clamour and outcry raised by some
street-loiterers at sight of their ponderous hulk and
ungainly step, roused the sleepers from their beds in
every district through which they passed. News of this
unlooked-for addition to the Royal Zoological Garden
in St. James' Park, is conveyed to Theobald's as
speedily as horse-flesh, whip, and spur could do the
work. Then arose an interchange of missives to and
fro, betwixt the king, my lord treasurer, and Mr.
Secretary Conway, grave, earnest, and deliberate, as
though involving the settlement or refusal of some
treaty of peace. In muttered sentences, not loud but
deep, the thrifty lord treasurer shews 'how little he
is in love with royal presents, which cost his master
as much to maintain as would a garrison.'
No matter. Warrants are issued
to the officers of the Mews, and to Buckingham, master
of the horse, 'that the elephant is to be daily well
dressed and fed, but that he should not be led forth
to water, nor any admitted to see him, without
directions from his keeper, which they were to observe
and follow in all things concerning that beast, as
they will answer for the contrary at their uttermost
peril. The camels are to be daily grazed in the park,
but brought back at night, with all possible
precautions to screen them from the vulgar gaze. 'In
the blessed graciousness of his majesty's
disposition,' �150 was to be presented to Francisco
Romano, who brought them over�though the meagre
treasury was hardly able to yield up that slim, and
her majesty's visit to 'the Bath' must be put off to a
more convenient season, for want of money to bear her
charges. Then Sir Richard Weston was commissioned
by
Mr. Secretary Conway to estimate the annual cost of
maintaining the royal quadruped, his master having
decided to take the business into his own hands. He
suggested economy, but does not seem to have
succeeded, for the state papers for August 1623
furnish the following 'breefe noate what the chardges
of the elephant and his keepers are in the yeare:
-
feeding for the elephant
at 10s. per diem, is per an., �180
-
To the 2 Spaniards that
keep him, xis'. per week, 52
-
To the 2 Englishmen, his
keepers, xvi'. per week, 41
Sum per ann. in tote . �275, 12s.
Such is the gross amount,
according to the manuscript, but not according to
Cocker. Should the above be a specimen of Mr.
Secretary Conway's arithmetic, we can only hope his
foreign policy was somewhat better than his figures.
This calculation, however, by no means embraced every
item of the costly hill of fare�'Besides,' adds the
manuscript, 'his keepers afirme that from the month of
September until April, he must drink (not water) but
wyne�and from April unto September, he must have a
gallon of wyne the daye.'
A pleasant time of it must
this same elephant have had, with his modest
winter-allowance of six bottles per them, in exchange
for the Spaniard's lenten quarters.