CURIOSITIES IN HISTORY, ETC.—(Concluded.) Great Events from Little Causes—Dreadful Instances of the Plague, in Europe—Fire of London—Vicar of Bray—Curious Account of the Ceremonies at Queen Elizabeth’s Dinner—A Blacksmith’s Wife become a Queen—Swine’s Concert. Great Events From Little Causes.—The most important events sometimes take place from little and insignificant causes. 1. Sir Isaac Newton’s sublime genius, set a-going by the fall of an apple, never stopped till it had explained the laws of nature. 2. Hospinian (who wrote so successfully against the Popish ceremonies) was first convinced of the necessity of such a work by the talk of an ignorant country landlord, who thought that religious fraternities were as old as the creation, that Adam was a monk, and that Eve was a nun. 3. Metius was led to the discovery of optic glasses, by observing some schoolboys play upon the ice, who made use of their copy-books, rolled up in the shape of tubes, to look at each other, to which they sometimes added pieces of ice at the end, to view distant objects. 4. Luther’s quarrelling with Pope Leo. X. and bringing himself into difficult and dangerous circumstances, perhaps led him to search, think, and judge for himself, and consult the scriptures; by which he overthrew errors, which had been received as truths for ages. 5. To this we may add the marriage of Henry VIII. with Ann Boleyn, which was the occasion of England’s renouncing the supremacy of the Pope, and of bringing about the Reformation. Dreadful Instances of the Plague, in Europe.—Thucydides, lib. ii. gives an account of a dreadful plague which happened in Athens about B. C. 430, and with which he was himself infected, while the Peloponnesians under the command of Archidamus wasted all her territory abroad; but of these two enemies the plague was by far the most severe. The most dreadful plague that ever raged at Rome, was in the reign of Titus, A. D. 80. The emperor left no remedy unattempted to abate the malignity of the distemper, acting during its continuance like a father to his people. The same fatal disease raged in all the provinces of the Roman empire, in the reign of M. Aurelius, A. D. 167, and was followed by a dreadful famine, earthquakes, inundations, and other calamities. About A. D. 430, the plague visited Britain, just after the Picts and Scots had made a formidable invasion of the southern part of the island. It raged with uncommon fury, and swept away most of those whom the sword and famine had spared, so that the living were scarcely sufficient to bury the dead. About A. D. 1348, the plague became almost general over Europe. Many authors give an account of this plague, which is said to have appeared first in the kingdom of Kathay, in 1346, and to have proceeded gradually west to Constantinople and Egypt. From Constantinople it passed into Greece, Italy, France, and Africa, and by degrees along the coast of the ocean into Britain and Ireland, and afterwards into Germany, Hungary, Poland, Denmark, and the other northern kingdoms. According to Antonius, archbishop of Florence, the distemper carried off 60,000 people in that city. In 1656, the plague was brought from Sardinia to Naples, being introduced into the city by a transport with soldiers on board. It raged with excessive violence, carrying off, in less than six months, 400,000 of the inhabitants. In 1720, the city of Marseilles was visited with this destructive disease, brought in a ship from the Levant; and in seven months, during which time it continued, it carried off not less than 60,000 people. The ravages of this disease have been dreadful wherever it has made its appearance. On the first arrival of the Europeans at the island of Grand Canaria, it contained 14,000 fighting men; soon after which, two-thirds of these inhabitants fell a sacrifice to the plague. The destruction it has made in Turkey in Europe, and particularly in Constantinople, must be known to every reader; and its fatal effects have been particularly heightened there by that firm Some particulars respecting The Great Fire of London.—The following is part of the inscription on the Monument, which records this calamitous event. “The second day of September, 1666, at the distance of two hundred and two feet, the height of this column, a terrible fire broke out about midnight. It consumed in its progress eighty-nine churches, the city gates, Guildhall, many public structures, hospitals, schools, libraries, a vast number of stately edifices, thirteen thousand two hundred dwelling-houses, and four hundred streets. The ruins of the city were four hundred and thirty-six acres, from the Tower by the Thames side to the Temple church, and from the north-east gate along the city wall, to Holborn bridge. Three days after, when this fatal fire had baffled all human counsels and endeavours, it stopped, as it were by a command from Heaven, and was on every side extinguished.” Vicar of Bray.—Every one has frequently heard this reverend son of the church mentioned; probably his name may have outlived the recollection of his pious manoeuvres: he was in his principles a Sixtus the Fifth. The vicar of Bray, in Berkshire, was a Papist under the reign of Henry the Eighth, and a Protestant under Edward the Sixth; he was a Papist again under Mary, and once more became a Protestant in the reign of Elizabeth. When this scandal to the gown was reproached for his versatility of religious creeds, and taxed for being a turn-coat and an inconstant changeling, as Fuller expresses it, he replied, “Not so, neither! for if I changed my religion, I am sure I kept true to my principle; which is, to live and die the Vicar of Bray!” This vivacious and reverend hero has given birth to a proverb peculiar to his county, “The Vicar of Bray will be Vicar of Bray still.” Fuller tells us, in his facetious chronicle of his Worthies, that this vicar had seen some martyrs burnt two miles off at Windsor, and found this fire too hot for his The following Account of the Ceremonies at Queen Elizabeth’s Dinner, deserves to be recorded.—A German traveller, (Hentzner) talking of Queen Elizabeth, thus describes the solemnity of her dinner. “While she was at prayers, we saw her table set out in the following solemn manner: a gentleman entered the room, bearing a rod, and along with him another who had a table-cloth, which, after they had both kneeled three times with the utmost veneration, he spread upon the table; and, after kneeling again, they both retired. Then came two others, one with the rod again, the other with a salt-cellar, a plate, and bread: when they had kneeled, as the others had done, and placed what was brought upon the table, they too retired with the same ceremonies performed by the first. At last came an unmarried lady, (we were told she was a countess,) and along with her a married one, bearing a lasting knife: the former, who was dressed in white silk, when she had prostrated herself three times in the most graceful manner, approached the table, and rubbed the plates with bread and salt, with as much care as if the queen had been present: when they had waited there a little while, the yeomen of the guard entered, bareheaded, clothed in scarlet, with a golden rose upon their backs, bringing in at each turn a course of twenty-four dishes, served in plate, most of it gilt; these dishes were received by a gentleman in the same order they were brought, and placed upon the table, while the lady-taster gave to each of the guards a mouthful to eat, of the particular dish he had brought, for fear of any poison. During the time that this guard, which consists of the tallest and stoutest men that could be found in all England, were bringing dinner, twelve trumpets and two kettledrums made the hall ring for half an hour together. At the end of this ceremonial, a number of unmarried ladies appeared, who, with particular solemnity, lifted the meat off the table, and conveyed it into the queen’s inner and more private chamber, where, after she had chosen for herself, the rest went to the ladies of the court.” A Blacksmith’s Wife become a Queen.—It is a curious circumstance, that the present queen of the Sandwich islands, was formerly, or rather is at this time, the wife of a Russian blacksmith. An English vessel lying off what we usually call the Fox Island, several years ago, one of the officers became enamoured of the fair spouse of a son of Vulcan In the course of the voyage, however, the circumstance became known to the captain, who being highly enraged at such a breach of faith and discipline, kept her confined till they arrived at the Sandwich Islands, where she was put on shore. The forlorn Ariadne, however, found a Bacchus for her Theseus,—a royal lover, to replace her lost lieutenant. The king of the island became enamoured of the fair Russian, made her his wife, and raised her to his throne. He was no every-day king. He was a statesman and a hero, though we should call him a savage. He progressively created a respectable navy of several well-built frigates; taught his subjects to be excellent sailors; raised armies; subdued the surrounding islands; and at the close of a prosperous reign, left his possessions and his sovereignty to his queen, who now reigns as his successor. She is well obeyed by her subjects; possesses great wealth in flocks, herds, and rice-ground; and sends frequent presents to her former deserted husband, who still continues to hammer horses’ shoes in a Russian colony, while his faithless, but it seems not quite ungrateful spouse, stretches her sceptre over several prosperous isles. The Swine’s Concert.—The abbot of Baigne, a man of great wit, and who had the art of inventing new musical instruments, being in the service of Louis XI. king of France, was ordered by that prince to get him a concert of swine’s voices, thinking it impossible. The abbot was not surprised, but asked money for the performance, which was immediately delivered him; and he wrought a thing as singular as ever was seen. For out of a great number of hogs, of several ages, which he got together, and placed under a tent or pavilion covered with velvet, before which he had a table of wood painted, with a certain number of keys, he made an organical instrument; and as he played upon the said keys, he, by means of little spikes, which pricked the hogs, made them cry in such order and consonance, as highly delighted the king and all his company. |