Waterloo.—I do not know whether, in any of the numerous lives of the late Duke of Wellington, the following fact has been noticed. In Strada's History of the Belgian war (a work which deserves to be better known and appreciated than it is at present), there occurs a passage which shows that, about three hundred years since, Waterloo was the scene of a severe engagement; so that the late sanguinary struggle was not the first this battle-ground has to boast of. The passage occurs in FamianÆ StradÆ de Bello Belgico, Decas prima, lib. vi. p. 256., edit. RomÆ, 1653; where, after describing a scheme on the part of the insurgents for surprising Lille, and its discovery by the Royalists, he goes on:
What makes this more curious is, that, like the later battle, neither of the contending parties on this occasion were natives of the country in which the battle was fought, they being the French Calvinists on one side and the Spaniards on the other. "Tuch."—In "The Synagogue," attached to Herbert's Poems, but written by Chr. Harvie, M.A., is a piece entitled "The Communion Table," one verse of which is as follows: "And for the matter whereof it is made, The matter is not much, Although it be of tuch, Or wood, or mettal, what will last, or fade; So vanitie And superstition avoided be." S. T. Coleridge, in a note on this passage, printed in Mr. Pickering's edition of Herbert, 1850 (fcap. 8vo.), says:
Whether Coleridge rightly appreciated Stanley's use of the word platt, I shall not determine; but with regard to touch, it is evident that he went (it was the tendency of his mind) to Germany for error, when truth might have been discovered nearer home. The context shows that cloth could not have been intended, for who ever heard of a table or altar made of cloth? The truth is that the poet meant touchstone, which the author of the Glossary of Architecture (3rd edit., text and appendix) rightly explains to be "the dark-coloured stone or marble, anciently used for tombstones. A musical sound" (it is added) "may be produced by touching it sharply with a stick." And this is in fact the reason for its name. The author of the Glossary of Architecture cites Ben Jonson by Gifford, viii. 251., and ArchÆol., xvi. 84. Lincoln's Inn. The Dodo.—Among the seals, or rather sulphur casts, in the British Museum, is one of Nicholas Saumares, anno 1400. It represents an esquire's helmet, from which depends obliquely a shield with the arms—supporters—dexter a unicorn, sinister a greyhound; crest, a bird, which from its unwieldy body and disproportionate wings I take to be a Dodo: and the more probability attaches itself to this conjecture, since Dodo seems to have been the surname of the Counts de Somery, or Somerie (query Saumarez), as mentioned in p. 2. of Add. MSS. 17,455. in the British Museum, and alluded to in a former No. of "N. & Q." This seal, like many others, is not in such a state of preservation as to warrant the assertion that we have found a veritable Dodo. I only offer it as a hint to Mr. Strickland and others, that have written so learnedly on this head. Burke gives a falcon for the crest of Saumarez; but the clumsy form and figure of this bird does not in any way assimilate with any of the falcon tribe. Dodo seems also to have been used as a Christian name, as in the same volume of MSS. quoted above we find Dodo de Cisuris, &c. Francis I.—Mention has been made in "N. & Q." of Francis I.'s celebrated "Tout est perdu hormis l'honneur!" but the beauty of that phrase is lost in its real position,—a long letter to Louisa of Savoy, his mother. The letter is given at full length in Sismondi's Histoire des FranÇais. M—a L. |