Books and Bookmen [10]
(cheap at 1L. 5S. 6D.), and there were
eight large plate candle-sticks on stands round the dais, and
ninety-six buckram escutcheons. The pall-bearers wore Alamode
hatbands covered with frizances, and so did the divines who were
present at the melancholy but gorgeous function. A hundred men in
mourning carried a hundred white wax branch lights, and the gloves
of the porters in Gray's Inn were ash-coloured with black points.
Yet the wine cost no more than 1L. 19S. 6D.; a "deal of sack," by no
means "intolerable."
Leaving the funerals, we find that the parish register sometimes
records ancient and obsolete modes of death. Thus, martyrs are
scarce now, but the register of All Saints', Derby, 1556, mentions
"a poor blinde woman called Joan Waste, of this parish, a martyr,
burned in Windmill pit." She was condemned by Ralph Baynes, Bishop
of Coventry and Lichfield. In 1558, at Richmond, in Yorkshire, we
find "Richard Snell, b'rnt, bur. 9 Sept." At Croydon, in 1585,
Roger Shepherd probably never expected to be eaten by a lioness.
Roger was not, like Wyllyam Barker, "a common drunkard and
blasphemer," and we cannot regard the Croydon lioness, like the
Nemean lion, as a miraculous monster sent against the county of
Surrey for the sins of the people. The lioness "was brought into
the town to be seen of such as would give money to see her. He"
(Roger) "was sore wounded in sundry places, and was buried the 26th
Aug."
In 1590, the register of St. Oswald's, Durham, informs us that
"Duke, Hyll, Hogge, and Holiday" were hanged and burned for "there
horrible offences." The arm of one of these horrible offenders was
preserved at St. Omer as the relic of a martyr, "a most precious
treasure," in 1686. But no one knew whether the arm belonged
originally to Holiday, Hyll, Duke, or Hogge. The coals, when these
unfortunate men were burned, cost sixpence; the other items in the
account of the abominable execution are, perhaps, too repulsive to
be quoted.
According to some critics of the British government, we do not treat
the Egyptians well. But our conduct towards the Fellahs has
certainly improved since this entry was made in the register of St.
Nicholas, Durham (1592, August 8th): 'Simson, Arington,
Featherston, Fenwick, and Lancaster, WERE HANGED FOR BEING
EGYPTIANS.' They were, in fact, gypsies, or had been consorting
with gypsies, and they suffered under 5 Eliz. c. 20. In 1783 this
statute was abolished, and was even considered "a law of excessive
severity." For even a hundred years ago "the puling cant of sickly
humanitarianism" was making itself heard to the injury of our sturdy
old English legislation. To be killed by a poet is now an unusual
fate, but the St. Leonard's, Shoreditch, register (1598) mentions
how "Gabriel Spencer, being slayne, was buried." Gabriel was
"slayne" by Rare Ben Jonson, in Hoxton Fields.
The burning of witches is, naturally, not an uncommon item in parish
registers, and is set forth in a bold, business-like manner. On
August 21 (1650) fifteen women and one man were executed for the
imaginary crime of witchcraft. "A grave, for a witch, sixpence," is
an item in the municipal accounts. And the grave was a cheap haven
for the poor woman who had been committed to the tender mercies of a
Scotch witch-trier. Cetewayo's medicine-men, who "smelt out"
witches, were only some two centuries in the rear of our
civilisation. Three hundred years ago Bishop Jewell, preaching
before Elizabeth, was quite of the mind of Cetewayo and Saul, as to
the wickedness of suffering a witch to live. As late as 1691, the
register of Holy Island, Northumberland, mentions "William Cleugh,
bewitched to death," and the superstition is almost as powerful as
ever among the rural people. Between July 13 and July 24 (1699) the
widow Comon, in Essex, was thrice swum for a witch. She was not
drowned, but survived her immersion for only five months. A
singular homicide is recorded at Newington Butts, 1689. "John Arris
and Derwick Farlin in one grave, being
eight large plate candle-sticks on stands round the dais, and
ninety-six buckram escutcheons. The pall-bearers wore Alamode
hatbands covered with frizances, and so did the divines who were
present at the melancholy but gorgeous function. A hundred men in
mourning carried a hundred white wax branch lights, and the gloves
of the porters in Gray's Inn were ash-coloured with black points.
Yet the wine cost no more than 1L. 19S. 6D.; a "deal of sack," by no
means "intolerable."
Leaving the funerals, we find that the parish register sometimes
records ancient and obsolete modes of death. Thus, martyrs are
scarce now, but the register of All Saints', Derby, 1556, mentions
"a poor blinde woman called Joan Waste, of this parish, a martyr,
burned in Windmill pit." She was condemned by Ralph Baynes, Bishop
of Coventry and Lichfield. In 1558, at Richmond, in Yorkshire, we
find "Richard Snell, b'rnt, bur. 9 Sept." At Croydon, in 1585,
Roger Shepherd probably never expected to be eaten by a lioness.
Roger was not, like Wyllyam Barker, "a common drunkard and
blasphemer," and we cannot regard the Croydon lioness, like the
Nemean lion, as a miraculous monster sent against the county of
Surrey for the sins of the people. The lioness "was brought into
the town to be seen of such as would give money to see her. He"
(Roger) "was sore wounded in sundry places, and was buried the 26th
Aug."
In 1590, the register of St. Oswald's, Durham, informs us that
"Duke, Hyll, Hogge, and Holiday" were hanged and burned for "there
horrible offences." The arm of one of these horrible offenders was
preserved at St. Omer as the relic of a martyr, "a most precious
treasure," in 1686. But no one knew whether the arm belonged
originally to Holiday, Hyll, Duke, or Hogge. The coals, when these
unfortunate men were burned, cost sixpence; the other items in the
account of the abominable execution are, perhaps, too repulsive to
be quoted.
According to some critics of the British government, we do not treat
the Egyptians well. But our conduct towards the Fellahs has
certainly improved since this entry was made in the register of St.
Nicholas, Durham (1592, August 8th): 'Simson, Arington,
Featherston, Fenwick, and Lancaster, WERE HANGED FOR BEING
EGYPTIANS.' They were, in fact, gypsies, or had been consorting
with gypsies, and they suffered under 5 Eliz. c. 20. In 1783 this
statute was abolished, and was even considered "a law of excessive
severity." For even a hundred years ago "the puling cant of sickly
humanitarianism" was making itself heard to the injury of our sturdy
old English legislation. To be killed by a poet is now an unusual
fate, but the St. Leonard's, Shoreditch, register (1598) mentions
how "Gabriel Spencer, being slayne, was buried." Gabriel was
"slayne" by Rare Ben Jonson, in Hoxton Fields.
The burning of witches is, naturally, not an uncommon item in parish
registers, and is set forth in a bold, business-like manner. On
August 21 (1650) fifteen women and one man were executed for the
imaginary crime of witchcraft. "A grave, for a witch, sixpence," is
an item in the municipal accounts. And the grave was a cheap haven
for the poor woman who had been committed to the tender mercies of a
Scotch witch-trier. Cetewayo's medicine-men, who "smelt out"
witches, were only some two centuries in the rear of our
civilisation. Three hundred years ago Bishop Jewell, preaching
before Elizabeth, was quite of the mind of Cetewayo and Saul, as to
the wickedness of suffering a witch to live. As late as 1691, the
register of Holy Island, Northumberland, mentions "William Cleugh,
bewitched to death," and the superstition is almost as powerful as
ever among the rural people. Between July 13 and July 24 (1699) the
widow Comon, in Essex, was thrice swum for a witch. She was not
drowned, but survived her immersion for only five months. A
singular homicide is recorded at Newington Butts, 1689. "John Arris
and Derwick Farlin in one grave, being