Born: Robert Nelson
(works of divinity), 1656, London; Jacques Define,
French poet, 1738, Aigues-Perse, Auvergne;
Thomas Day,
author of Saudford and Merton, 1748, London.
Died:
Nicolas Machiavel,
Florentine statesman, 1527, Florence; Bishop John
Fisher, beheaded on Tower Hill, 1535; Catherine
Philips, poetess, 1664, Fleet Street, London; Matthew
Henry, biblical commentator, 1714: Jean-Pierre de
Bougainville, French poet, 1763; R. B. Haydon, artist,
1846, London.
Feast Day: St. Alban,
protomartyr of Britain, 303. St. Paulinus, Bishop of
Nola, confessor, 431.
ST. ALBAN
St. Alban has the honour of
being regarded as the first British martyr. The bloody
persecution of Dioclesian, which raged in other parts
of the Roman empire with such terrible fury that
Dioclesian declared the Christians exterminated, was
kept in check in Gaul and Britain by Constantius, who
governed those provinces with almost regal authority.
But some few are alleged to have suffered, and among
these St. Alban was first. He sheltered a priest,
whose name was Amphibalus, who is said to have
converted him; and when he could conceal him no
longer, he assisted his escape by changing clothes
with him. For this act Alban was brought before the
governor, condemned, and beheaded.
The execution took place at
Verulam, and in remembrance of the martyr, the name of
Verulam was changed to St. Alban's. Ingulphus tells
us, in his History of the Abbey of Croyland, that Offa,
king of Mercia, 'founded a monastery of Black Monks at
the city of Verulam, in honour of God and of St.
Alban, the protomartyr of the English,' in the year
793. In time, this became one of the richest and most
beautiful abbacies in England, and its superior was in
1154 invested by Pope Adrian IV. with the privilege of
taking the first place among the mitred abbots in
parliament. Of its original grandeur some idea, though
but a faint one, may still be acquired by a survey of
the church, which continues to be used as a parochial
place of worship.
When we view the ancient and
still surviving grandeur of the church of St. Alban's
and its appurtenances, it becomes a curious reflection
that great doubts now exist whether St. Alban himself
ever had an existence.
BATTLE OF MORAT
On the 22nd of June 1476, was
fought at Morat in Switzerland one of the most
sanguinary battles on record. The defeated party was
Charles Duke of Burgundy, the last of a series of
independent princes, who, with a territory which now
forms eastern France, had for four generations
maintained themselves in great power and splendour.
Philip des Commines tells us of the magnificence of
Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, and of the
luxurious opulence of his subjects, from personal
observation. Up to the year 1475, he was an object of
terror to the astute Louis XI, who had reason to
dread that, if the duke succeeded in mastering Provence, the kings of France
would not be able to
hold intercourse with the rest of Europe, except by
his permission. Everything seemed in a fair way to
make Charles a dangerously powerful sovereign, when an
infatuation overtook him, in consequence of a dispute
arising from a trivial cause with his poor neighbours
the Swiss.
Charles, having taken from
them the town of Granson, imprudently advanced to meet
them at the bottom of their own mountains, carrying
with him all the plate, jewels, and other articles
which he generally used at home. Most unexpectedly, a
panic seized the mass of his army, and the Swiss
gained a victory, attended by little slaughter, but by
the seizure of an immense amount of valuables (April
2, 1476). The allies of the duke quickly showed by
their coldness how slight a hold he had upon their
friendship, and how critical another defeat would be:
but he nevertheless persisted in his absurd war, and
in less than three months came to another collision
with the Swiss, in circumstances fully as unfavourable
to himself as before.
The two armies, each about
30,000 strong, met in a straitened situation beside
the lake of Morat, when once more the forces of the
duke were defeated, but this time with immense
slaughter. All the Burgundians who stood to fight, or
could be overtaken by the cavalry of the enemy, were
massacred; so that 'cruel as at Morat' became a
proverb. The wretched duke escaped; but the
mortification of defeat did not give him wisdom. He
persisted in the war for a few months longer, and was
slain in a final defeat at Nancy, in Lorraine (January
1477), along with the best of his remaining adherents.
The fall of the house of Burgundy was accomplished in
less than a year. It naturally excited great wonder
and much comment among surrounding states. Des Commines could not conceive what
should provoke the
displeasure of the Almighty against the duke, 'unless
it was his self-love and arrogance,'�a sufficient
reason for the fall of both princes and people,
without the supposition of any miracle, as has been
proved in many cases, and will yet be in many others.
DAY, THE DIVER
On the 22nd of June 1774, a
man named John Day lost his life in a manner
singularly exhibiting the great ignorance with.
respect to the simplest physical facts which prevailed
at the period. Day, an ignorant but ingenious
millwright, fancied that he had invented a plan by
which he could remain below water, at any depth, and
without any communication with the air, for at least
twenty-four hours; returning to the surface whenever
he thought proper. As no useful purpose could be
promoted by this assumed discovery, Day thought of
turning it to account as a means of making money by
betting, and accordingly placed himself in
communication with one Blake, a well-known sporting
character of the period. A contract was soon entered
into between Blake and Day, the former engaging to
furnish funds for constructing Day's diving machine,
and to pay him ten per cent. on the amount of all bets
gained by it.
Day's plan, if it had no other
merit, had that of simplicity. His machine was merely
a water-tight box, or compartment, attached to an old
vessel by means of screws. After entering the box, and
carefully closing the hole of entrance, the vessel was
to be sunk, and Day, being provided with a wax taper
and a watch, would at the time appointed disengage his
box from the vessel by drawing the screws, and thus
rise to the surface. Granting that a man could live,
let alone a taper burn, without a constant supply of
fresh air, nothing could be easier than Day's proposed
plan; but, at the present time, it must be a very
young and ill-informed child that does not perceive
the glaring absurdity of the proposition.
So confident, however, were
the partners in this strangest of gambling
speculations, that Blake at once commenced accepting
bets that he would not, within the space of three
months, cause a man to be sunk 100 feet deep under
water, without any communication with air, for twelve
hours; the man, at the exact termination of that time,
rising to the surface of his own accord, and by his
own exertions. While Blake was busy making his bets,
Day on his part was as actively engaged at Plymouth in
constructing his machine. He then seems to have
acquired, from the shipwrights he employed, some idea
of the difficulty of his undertaking, as far as
regards the great pressure of water at a considerable
depth. This caused delay, as he was induced to make
his diving-box larger and stronger than he at first
intended, and the three months elapsed before all was
ready. Blake consequently lost his bets; but he paid
them cheerfully, hoping for better luck the next time.
Soon afterwards, the machine
being finished, Blake went down to Plymouth to
superintend the first trial of the affair. A place in
Plymouth Sound, twenty-two fathoms (132 feet) in
depth, having been selected, the vessel was towed
thither; and Day, provided with a bed, a watch, a
taper, some biscuits, and a bottle of water, entered
the box which was to be his tomb. The box was then
tightly closed according to his directions, and the
vessel to which it was attached sank to the bottom,
from whence neither it nor the unfortunate man ever
arose.
Thus a clever, enterprising,
but ignorant man perished, through want of a knowledge
possessed by almost every child at the present day.
Nor was the ingenious country millwright alone
ignorant that fresh air is the first necessity of
life. A pretentious monthly periodical of the time,
The British Magazine of Arts, Sciences, and
Literature, though it assigns four probable reasons
for Day's failure, never alludes to the most patent
and prominent one�the want of fresh air.
A
BALLOON DUEL
Perhaps the most remarkable
duel ever fought took place in 1808. It was peculiarly
French in its tone, and could hardly have occurred
under any other than a French state of society. M. de
Grandpr� and M. le Pique had a quarrel, arising out of
jealousy concerning a lady engaged at the Imperial
Opera, one Mademoiselle Tirevit. They agreed to fight
a duel to settle their respective claims; and in order
that the heat of angry passion should not interfere
with the polished elegance of the proceeding, they
postponed the duel for a month�the lady agreeing to
bestow her smiles on the survivor of the two, if the
other was killed; or at all events, this was inferred
by the two men, if not actually expressed. The
duellists were to fight in the air.
Two balloons were
constructed, precisely alike. On the day denoted, De Grandpr� and his second
entered the car of one
balloon, Le Pique and his second that of the other; it
was in the garden of the Tuileries, amid an immense
concourse of spectators. The gentlemen were to fire,
not at each other, but at each other's balloons, in
order to bring them down by the escape of gas; and as
pistols might hardly have served for this purpose,
each aeronaut took a blunderbuss in his car. At a
given signal the ropes that retained the cars were
cut, and the balloons ascended. The wind was moderate,
and kept the balloons at about their original distance
of eighty yards apart. When about half a mile above
the surface of the earth, a preconcerted signal for
firing was given. M. le Pique fired, but missed. M. de
Grandpr'e fired, and sent a ball through Le Pique's
balloon. The balloon collapsed, the car descended with
frightful rapidity, and Le Pique and his second were
dashed to pieces. De Grandpr'e continued his ascent
triumphantly, and terminated his aerial voyage
successfully at a distance of seven leagues from
Paris!