NOTES.

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[1] From the Cornhill Magazine, March 1919.[2] The large-leaved lime is described by Hooker as being a doubtful “denizen.”[3] A Naturalist’s Calendar, by Leonard Blomefield (formerly Jenyns). Cambridge University Press. Edited by Francis Darwin, 1903.[4a] Calendar, p. 3, note b.[4b] The Student’s Flora of the British Islands, 3rd ed., 1884, p. 191.[5] I was led to examine them by a writer in The Times (6th February 1918), who describes the buds as being as blue “as wood-smoke from cottage chimneys.”[6] Ludwig has seen creatures, which run on the surface of the water, carry away duckweed pollen. These fertilisers belong to the families HydrometridÆ, CorisidÆ, and NaucoridÆ.[7] This, and part of what follows, is from unpublished notes of lectures given at Cambridge.[11] The present discussion is partly taken from my introduction to Blomefield’s Naturalist’s Calendar, 1903.[12a] Observations in Natural History, p. 334.[12b] Earliest date noted, 21st April; latest, 8th May.[12c] Earliest date, 21st March; latest, 7th May (fifteen years’ observation).[12d] Quoted in Prior’s Popular Names of British Plants, 3rd ed., 1879, p. 59.[15] Reprinted from the Cornhill Magazine, June 1919.[16] Though, I confess, I only guess at some of them.[17a] Fogle means a silk handkerchief, according to Farmer and Henley’s Dictionary of Slang, 1905, and may perhaps suggest the picking of pockets. Its connection with Bandanna is obvious.[17b] The appropriateness of Burke is sufficiently obvious. The trial of Thurtell by Judge Park was also a cause celÈbre. There was a ballad of the day in which the victim is described with some bloodthirsty detail which I omit:

“His name was Mr William Weare,
He lived in Lyons Inn.”

After the murder Thurtell drove back to London and had a hearty supper at an eating-house. Judge Park, who tried him, is said to have exclaimed: “Commit a murder and eat six pork chops! Good God, what dreams the man must have had.” Catherine Hayes was also a well-known miscreant.[18] A collocation preceding by half a dozen years Doyle’s immortal travels of Brown, Jones, and Robinson.[19] There is also a Mrs Glowry (chap. xxvi.), who speculates as to whether the Pope is to fall in 1836 or 1839.[20] The History of Pickwick, 1891, pp. 14, 15.[21] The History of Pickwick, 1891, p. 153.[23] How much better is the name Madge Wildfire for a somewhat similar character in The Heart of Midlothian.[25] The name of the ducal seat Gatherum Castle is utterly bad.[26] Here referred to by his Christian name only. I think it was this eminent M.D. who was called in when Bishop Grantley was dying.[29a] In two volumes: Oxford, 1857.[29b] The book, according to the Dictionary of National Biography, was edited by Warton and Huddesford.[30a] “Even when a Boy, he [T. H.] was observed to be continually poring over the Old Tomb-Stones in his own Church-yard, as soon almost as he was Master of the Alphabet.”[30b] The following description is taken from ReliquiÆ HearnianÆ, vol. ii., p. 904. Hearne wrote:—

5th Feb. 1729.—“My best friend, Mr Francis Cherry, was a very handsome man, particularly when young. His hands were delicately white. He was a man of great parts, and one of the finest gentlemen in England. K. James II., seeing him on horseback in Windsor forest, when his majesty was hunting, asked who it was, and . . . said he never saw any one sit a horse better in his life.

“Mr Cherry was educated at the free school at Bray. . . . He was gentleman commoner at Edem-hall anno 1682. . . . The hall was then very full, particularly there were then a great many gentlemen commoners there.”

[30c] To this school he went daily on foot, three miles there and three back.[31] Transcriber’s note: reproduced as printed.[39] The close of the parenthesis is wanting in the original.[41] 10th Feb. 1721–2.—“Whereas the university deputations on Ash Wednesday should begin exactly at one o’clock, they did not begin this year till two or after, which is owing to several colleges having altered their hour of dining from eleven to twelve, occasioned from people’s lying in bed longer than they used to do.”[46a] The word heartick does not occur in the New Oxford Dictionary.[46b] Of Lord Baltimore’s family.[56a] Life and Letters of Charles Darwin, i., p. 138.[56b] As described in Rustic Sounds, p. 2.[60] Pickwick, chap. xliv.[62] The “scorers were prepared to notch the runs” (Pickwick, chap. vii.).[63] He was afterwards Savilian Professor of Astronomy at Oxford: he died in 1893.[67] Rustic Sounds, p. 92.[68a] During my life in London as a medical student I had the happiness of living with my uncle, Erasmus Darwin, one beloved under the name of Uncle Ras by all his nephews and nieces.[68b] In celebration of the fiftieth anniversary of the publication of the Origin of Species.[71] Old English Instruments of Music, by Francis W. Galpin, 1910.[72] Modern harps, however, have pedals for raising the natural note of any string by a semi-tone.[73a] It has also a greater compass than the rote.[73b] In obedience to good authority I have here adopted the spelling Clairsech instead of Clarsech. I presume that the spelling Clarsy (p. 74) is intentionally phonetic.[74a] We imagine the gittern to be laid flat on a table with strings uppermost.[74b] Galpin, p. 21.[77a] In Mr Dolmetsch’s The Interpretation of the Music of the XVIlth and XVIIIth Centuries (N.D.), the author also points out, p. 446, that the frets of the viol give to the stopped notes the “clear ring” of the open strings. He claims also that in the viol “the manner of holding the bow and ordering its strokes . . . prevents the strong accents characteristic” of the violin, and facilitates “an even and sustained tone.”

He recommends (p. 452) that frets should be added to the Double Bass, which would “give clearness to many rapid passages which at present only make a rumbling noise.”[77b] On Mace’s title-page he describes himself as “one of the Clerks of Trinity Colledge in the University of Cambridge.”[85] See my book, Rustic Sounds, 1917, where the pipe and tabor are more fully treated.[87] A curious rustic shawm which survived in Oxfordshire until modern times is the Whithorn or May Horn. It was made by a strip of bark twisted into a conical tube fixed together with hawthorn prickles and sounded by a reed made of the green bark of the young willow. The instruments were made every year for the Whit Monday hunt which took place in the forest.[88] They were also known as wayte pipes, after the watchmen (waytes) who played on them.[89a] It is believed to have given its name to the well-known dance.[89b] Galpin, p. 172.[90] A straight horn, however, existed.[91] So spelled, in order to distinguish it from the cornet À piston, once so popular.[92] Mr Dolmetsch, op. cit., p. 459, says that the serpent “was still common in French churches about the middle of the nineteenth century; and although, as a rule, the players had no great skill, those who have heard its tone combined with deep men’s voices in plain-song melodies, know that no other wind or string instrument has efficiently replaced it.”[94a] No specimen of the true portative is known to be in existence (Galpin, p. 228).[94b] Rustic Sounds, p. 197.[96a] Page 244.[96b] Page 249.[96c] The old name for the kettle-drum was nakers, a word of Arabic or Saracenic origin.[96d] The larger of the kettle-drums has a range of five notes from the bass F, immediately below the line. The smaller drum’s range (also of five notes) is from the B flat, just below the highest note of the bigger drum (p. 253).[97] The earliest use of the name kettle-drum is in 1551 (Galpin, p. 251).[100a] The name, however, is apparently not as old as the ceremonies. It is said by Britten and Holland (Dictionary of Plant-names) to have been invented by Gerard (1597).[100b] Prior, The Popular Names of British Plants, ed. iii., 1879, p. 89.[100c] Blomefield (formerly Jenyns) was a contemporary of my father’s at Cambridge, and was remarkable for wide knowledge, and especially for the minute accuracy of his work. He kept for many years a diary of the dates of flowering of plants and of other phenomena, which the Cambridge University Press republished in 1903 as A Naturalist’s Calendar.[106] Guy Mannering, vol. ii., ch. xxiv.[107] Britten and Holland.[114] Bentham, Illustrations of the British Flora, 5th ed., 1901, p. 68.[115a] Life and Letters of Sir Joseph Dalton Hooker, O.M., G.C.S.I., by Leonard Huxley, 2 vols. John Murray, 1918.[115b] The only obvious exception seems to be that too much space has been given to Sir Joseph’s letters to Mr La Touche, inasmuch as they are not especially interesting. It is not clear why Sir Joseph corresponded so much with Mr La Touche. Can it be that he wished to placate him as being his son’s schoolmaster?[116] i., p. 5.[122a] Hooker’s son Brian was named after him.[122b] Hooker’s Himalayan Journals was published in 1854, and dedicated to Charles Darwin by “his affectionate friend.”[123] As a further instance of the treatment Hooker received from the Indian authorities, I cannot resist quoting from vol. ii., p. 145: “The Court of Directors snubbed him before he set out, refusing him assistance and official letters of introduction to India, and even a passage out. . . . It was Hooker who surveyed and mapped the whole province of Sikkim, and opened up the resources of Darjiling at the cost of captivity . . . and the consequent loss of all his instruments and part of his notes and collections. Yet the India Board actually sold on Government behalf the presents the Rajah made him after his release,” though they owed to his energy the Government sites of the tea and cinchona cultivation.[124] “On the Reception of the Origin of Species,” Life and Letters of Charles Darwin, ii., p. 197.[125] Life and Letters of Charles Darwin, ii., p. 241.[127a] More Letters, i., p. 117.[127b] Life of Hooker, i., p. 536.[128a] And finally, after Hooker’s retirement, Director.[128b] ii., p. 139.[128c] ii., p. 142.[131] In 1882 Hooker had written to Darwin:—“The First Commissioner (one of your d---d liberals) wrote a characteristically illiberal and ill-bred minute . . . in effect warning me against your putting the Board to any expense! . . . I flared up at this, and told the Secretary . . . that the F. C., rather than send me such a minute, should have written a letter of thanks to you.”[133] That is to say, to a great-grandson of Josiah Wedgwood.[137a] The History of St Bartholomew’s Hospital, by Norman Moore, M.D., London. C. Arthur Pearson, Limited, 1918.[137b] Sir Norman Moore expresses his thanks to Mr Thomas Hayes, the present Clerk of the Hospital, for his courtesy on innumerable occasions during the progress of the author’s researches.[141] It is curious that, although the Christian names of men occurring in the history are quite ordinary, the women’s names are often unfamiliar, e.g., Godena, Sabelina, Hawisia, Lecia, Auina, Hersent, Wakerilda.[142] Doubtless Dr Moore himself.[144] William may have come from the village of Bassingbourne, near Cambridge.[145] See Henry IV., Part ii., Act v., Scene v.[150] In 1561 a new seal was made which is still in use.[154] Here and elsewhere I have fallen a victim to Dr Moore’s pleasant gift of narrative, for I cannot pretend that either Paulus Jovius or Robert Browning are connected with the hospital.[161] Autobiography of Sir George Biddell Airy, edited by Wilfrid Airy. Cambridge: At the University Press, 1896.[164] My uncle, Henry Wedgwood, as an undergraduate at Jesus, made a happy use of Peacock’s name:—

“Walk in and see
Our menagerie,
For amateurs a feast,
Where Dawes and Peacock
Are our birds
And . . . is our beast.”

I have forgotten the name of the beast, but he was an unpopular fellow of Jesus.[166] I am surprised that so large a sum was charged in those days; in my time the coach received £8.[175a] A Memoir of the Reverend Sydney Smith, by his daughter, Lady Holland. With a selection from his letters, edited by Mrs Austin. 2nd Edit., 1855.[175b] Her maiden name was Pybus; they were married in 1799 or 1800.[175c] Sydney Smith believed (i., p. 403) that “one of the Duke of Wellington’s earliest victories was at Eton, over” Sydney’s “eldest brother Bobus.”[176a] The remark was allowable since Robert was singularly handsome (i., p. 4).[176b] I gather that the fellowship was but £100 per annum.[177a] Francis Jeffrey, afterwards Lord Jeffrey, 1773–1850, was the son of a high Tory, but personally a Liberal. He is described as being healthy though diminutive. Sydney Smith makes jokes about his stature: e.g., 3rd September 1809, “Are we to see you? (a difficult thing at all times to do).” In character he is described as “nervous, sensitive, and tender.” Sydney wrote to him in 1806:—If “you could be alarmed into the semblance of modesty you would charm everybody; but remember my joke against you about the moon;—‘D---n the solar system! bad light—planets too distant—pestered with comets—feeble contrivance;—could make a better with great ease.’”[177b] Horner, Francis (1778–1817), called to the Bar in 1807, and was through the influence of Lord Carrington returned for the borough of Wendover. He was a man of sound judgment and unassuming manners, of scrupulous integrity, and great amiability of character. He was a correct and forcible speaker, and though without the gift of humour, exercised a remarkable influence in the House of Commons, owing to his personal character. He was one of the original founders of the Edinburgh Review, the other two being Jeffrey and Sydney Smith.[178a] The closely allied name, Sabelina, occurs in Sir N. Moore’s History of St Bartholomew’s Hospital, vol. i., p. 64.[178b] It was said (i., p. 138) that the King, who had been reading Sydney’s Edinburgh Review articles, remarked that he was a very clever fellow but would never be a bishop.[183] It appears (i., p. 282) that he felt deeply the fact that he had not been offered a Bishopric, though he had made up his mind to refuse it. Lord Melbourne is said to have much regretted not having made a bishop of Sydney.[185] Sydney wrote of Macaulay: “I always prophesied his greatness from the first moment I saw him, then a very young and unknown man, on the Northern Circuit.” His enemies might say he talked rather too much, “but now he has occasional flashes of silence, that make his conversation perfectly delightful” (i., p. 415).[186] The wife of Henry Richard Vassall Fox, 3rd Baron Holland (1773–1840), only son of Stephen, 2nd Lord Holland by Lady Mary Fitzpatrick, daughter of the Earl of Upper Ossory. He was a consistent Liberal in politics, and supported all measures against the slave trade and was in favour of emancipation, and this in spite of being the owner of “extensive plantations in Jamaica.” After his death the following verse in his handwriting was found on his dressing-table:—

“Nephew of Fox, and friend of Grey,
Enough my mead of fame
If those who deign’d to observe me say
I injured neither name.”

In the version quoted by Sydney Smith (Memoir and Letters, vol. ii., p. 457) the last line is “I tarnished neither name”; the punctuation is slightly different from the above, which is taken from the Dict. of Nat. Biog.[199] My authorities are:—The Letters of Charles Dickens, edited by his sister-in-law and his eldest daughter, 2 vols., 1882; The Life of Charles Dickens, by John Forster, 8th Edit., 1872; My Father as I recall him, by Mamie Dickens, Roxburghe Press, N.D. The authoress says that “it is twenty-six years since my father died”; this would make the date of her book 1896.[200a] His son.[200b] M. Dickens, p. 26.[201] Forster, i., p. 4.[202a] Forster, i., p. 9.[202b] In writing to Walter Savage Landor (Letters, ii., p. 48), 1856, he asks (in reference to Robinson Crusoe) if it is not a testimony to the homely force of truth that—“One of the most popular books on earth has nothing in it to make anyone laugh or cry. Yet I think, with some confidence, that you never did either over any passage in Robinson Crusoe. In particular, I took Friday’s death as one of the least tender and (in the true sense) least sentimental things ever written. . . .” He goes on:—“It is a book I read very much; and the wonder of its prodigious effect on me and everyone, and the admiration thereof, grows on me the more I observe this curious fact.”[203] Was it chance or intention that gave his hero the initials D.C., an inversion of C.D.?[205] Pickwick, chap. ix.[206] A corruption of Moses in the Vicar of Wakefield.

[208] His sense of the reality of his characters is shown by his daughter’s recollection of her father pointing out the exact spot where Mr Winkle called out, “Whoa! I have dropped my whip.”[209] William Charles Macready, 1793–1873, the son of William Macready, actor and manager, was born in London; his mother was an actress.

In 1803 he went to Rugby, the idea being that he should go to the Bar. In 1810 Macready made his first appearance on the stage, taking the part of Romeo with considerable success. Mrs Siddons, with whom he acted, encouraged him—telling him to “study, study, study, and do not marry till you are thirty.” During the four years he remained with his father he played seventy-four parts. He seems to have failed to agree with his father, and took an engagement at Bath in 1814. In 1816 he made his first appearance at Covent Garden. Kean was in the audience and applauded loudly. His Richard III. (in London 1819) took a firm hold of the public and established “a dangerous rivalry for Kean.” His temper seems to have been violent, for in 1836 he knocked down Bunn as “a damned scoundrel” and had to pay damages. In 1837 he was manager of Covent Garden Theatre. He was the original Claude Melnotte in 1838.

In 1850 he played at Windsor Castle under Charles Kean, who “sent him a courteous message and received a characteristically churlish reply.” He took the last of many farewell performances in 1851. His diary and reminiscences have been edited by Sir F. Pollock.[216] In 1858 he wrote to a friend asking him to convey a note of thanks “to the author of Scenes of Clerical Life whose two first stories I can never say enough of, I think them so truly admirable.” He adds that they are undoubtedly by a woman.[219] Lady Holland.[221] Mr Arthur Smith, his friend and secretary.[228] It was curious that he should use so provincial an expression as riding in a cab.[231a] Originally published in the proceedings of the Cotteswold Nat. Field Club, 1918, under the title, “The Effects of the Cold Spring of 1917 on the Flowering of Plants.”[231b] A Naturalist’s Calendar kept at Swaffham Bulbeck, Cambridgeshire. By Leonard Blomefield (formerly Jenyns). Edited by Francis Darwin. Cambridge: at the University Press, 1903.[232] I am also indebted to Mr Embrey for his kind help in this matter.[233] Kjellman, in Nordenskiold’s Studien und Forschungen, 1885, pp. 449, 467.[234] Botan: Zeitung, 1877.[235] A Naturalist’s Calendar, p. xii.[237] The Times Literary Supplement, 12th January 1917, p. 326.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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