about by the Austrian ministers and their partizans. The rabble destroyed all the bakers' shops, and presenting themselves before the palace, demanded a sight of the king. His majesty is asleep,' said one of the courtiers. He has slept too long already, and must now awake,' was the angry response. It was judged prudent to gratify the populace in their demand, and the poor king, pale and trembling, and unable to stand on his feet from sickness and fear, was brought out to the balcony in the arms of his attendants. As a capstone to all his sufferings, the last will and testament, appointing Philip of Anjou as his successor, was presented to him for his signature by Cardinal Portocarrero. Coerced and importuned on every side, Charles, with great reluctance, appended his name to the document, and then, bursting into tears, exclaimed: 'I now am nothing!' Immediately on signing it he fainted, and remained for a long time in that condition, inducing the belief that he was dead. He recovered, however, from this fit, and survived for a month longer, expiring on 1st November. The contents of the will were carefully concealed from the queen, the Austrian party, and Europe in general. When the testament came to be read after the king's death, it is said that Blécourt, the French ambassador, aware of its being in favour of his court, advanced confidently towards the Duke of Abrantes, whose office it was to declare the successor to the crown. Rather to the astonishment of the former, the duke, after looking composedly at him, turned aside his head. Then all at once, as if he had not observed Count Harrach, the imperial ambassador, he joyously embraced the latter, saying: 'It is with great pleasure, my lord' (then pausing to give him a closer hug), 'yes, my lord, it is with an extreme joy, and the utmost degree of satisfaction, that I withdraw myself from you, and take leave of the most august House of Austria !' The success thus attending French diplomacy may, after all, be regarded as of a very dubious kind. Though the grandson of Louis XIV. succeeded ultimately in establishing himself on the Spanish throne, which had been obtained for him by so questionable means, it was only after the expenditure of a vast amount of blood and treasure on the part of his native country, such as rendered the latter years of the reign of the Grand Monarque a period of the utmost weakness and misery. The whole circumstances connected with the celebrated will of Charles II. exhibit strikingly the notions then prevalent regarding the relations of sovereigns to their kingdoms, which were considered to be those of hereditary proprietors rather than of responsible first magistrates. Two Spanish nobles, during the discussion in council on the subject of a successor, did indeed suggest a reference of the question at issue to the decision of the national cortes, but such a proposition was at once superciliously negatived as dangerous and disloyal. JOSEPH RITSON. The peculiar tastes and pursuits of the antiquary frequently give him a strong individuality, which, with a little exaggeration, may produce caricature. He seldom appears in the pages of the novelist or dramatist in other than a ridiculous light, being depicted generally either as a foolish collector of JOSEPH RITSON. despicable trifles, or a half-witted good-natured twaddler. That all this is unjust, will be readily conceded in the present day, when archæological studies have become fashionable,' and soirees are given in rooms filled with antiquities as an extra attraction. Among the numerous antiquaries, who, by their labours, have rendered important services to the literature of their country, none has surpassed Joseph Ritson, who was himself an excellent sample of the painstaking and enthusiastic scholar, but unfortunately disfigured by eccentricity and irritability, which point a moral' in his otherwise useful career. Library and elsewhere, he quietly garnered a multitude of facts-a scrupulous accuracy regarding which was one of his distinguishing characteristics, and an absence of it in any work was deemed by him as little inferior to a moral delinquency. His first appearance in the literary arena, was an attack on Warton's History of English Poetry, in which he proved himself a most formidable antagonist. His observations' were printed in a quarto pamphlet in 1782, uniform with Warton's volumes, because, as he remarks with a grim jocularity, they are extremely proper to be bound up with that celebrated work.' The boldness of his invective, and the accuracy of his objections, at once stamped him as no contemptible critic. But he was unfortunately wanting in temper and charity-errors were crimes with him, and treated accordingly. No better illustration of his mode of criticism could I have reason to believe that instances of partial or occasional rumination are not so rare in the human subject as is generally supposed.' OCTOBER 2. The Feast of the Holy Angel-Guardians. St_Leodegarius or Leger, bishop and martyr, 678. St Thomas, bishop of Hereford, confessor, 1282. Born.-Richard III. of England, 1452, Fotheringay Castle; Cardinal Charles Borromeo, editor of the Noctes Vaticana, 1538, Arona; The Chevalier d'Eon, celebrated adventurer and pretended female, 1728, Tonnerre, Burgundy; Joseph Ritson, antiquary, 1752, Stockton. Died.-Aristotle, great Greek philosopher, 322 B. C., Chalcis; Major John André, hanged by Washington as a spy, 1780; Admiral Augustus Keppel, 1786; Dr W. E. Channing, Unitarian divine, 1842, Burtington, Vermont, United States; Miss Biffin, painter, without hands or arms, 1850, Liverpool; Thomas Thomson, legal and literary antiquary, 1852, Edinburgh. SPAIN BEQUEATHED TO THE BOURBONS. On 24 October 1700, Charles II. of Spain executed his last will and testament, by which he conveyed his dominions to Philip, Duke of Anjou, second son of the French dauphin, and grandson of Louis XIV. Perhaps no mortuary bequest has excited greater commotions than this celebrated document, occasioning, as it did, the celebrated War of Succession in Spain, and the no less famous campaigns of Marlborough and Prince Eugene in Germany and Italy, in connection with the same cause. The circumstances attending its execution possess both a curious and painful interest, and exemplify strikingly the extremes of priestly machination and political unscrupulousness on the one hand, and of regal misery and helplessness on the other. Feeble alike in body and mind, wasted i disease, and a prey to the most depre~~ melancholy and superstition, the unfortu Charles II. was evidently hastening to the of his career. Throughout life he had been in a state of perpetual tutelage, and had go. ever been permitted to have a will of hi He was the only child of the old age of Pi by that monarch's marriage with his niec two unions which Charles himself had succ contracted, there had never been any iss legal right to the Spanish crown now deve the descendants of his grandfather Philip of whose daughters was the mother of and another of the Emperor Leopa sympathies of Charles were all in fas House of Austria, but he was surrota powerful and unscrupulous faction in interest, who left no means untried! plishment of their ends. Work......... stitious fears of the dying mon advisers held up before him th perdition if he failed to make France as the legitimate heir. own family,' said poor Charles, wi 'but my salvation is dearer to m2 blood.' To relieve in some degr he despatched one of the noble 404 | hold to Pope Innocent XII., * the union of the two cr Philip, Duke of Anje to his Austrian relativ time to mac acri wl. 11a .: it went ble from I don't believe say the thing 'that excessive At verity, I verily tinfortunate asperity he most respectable n, then, we may study owed view of truth itself, an irritable temper. Hated respected as a scholar, he unnecessarily an object of dis, whilst with a little more suavity fulfilled his mission equally well. are undoubtedly indebted for a rendering of our ancient authors, arded them from that loose editorship Ritson's abomination. His name and refore, take an important place in istory. His personal errors, and their ces, should also be a warning to such needlessly turn their pens to poniards, ink to gall. : DUKE OF CUMBERLAND'S MARRIAGE. Oetober 2, 1771, Henry Frederic, Duke of erland, younger brother of George III, who was the Honourable Mrs Horton, a daughter Irnham, and widow of Christopher Horton Catton, a Derbyshire gentleman. She was also sister of the famous Colonel Luttrel, whom the our-party put forward as the legal possessor of eat for Middlesex in the House of Commons, pposition to the claims of Wilkes. The match oned the utmost displeasure to George III, only informed of it about a month after the event by a letter which he received from his brother, saying that he was married to Mrs Horton, and had gone off with her to Calais. In conjunc noa with the mésalliance, avowed shortly after by Duke of Gloucester, another of the king's thers, with the Dowager Countess of WaldeSave this marriage of the Duke of Cumberland asioned the passing in parliament, by the king's direction, of the well-known Royal Marriage Act, pucished' which subsequently rendered null the unions milaxis, of George IV. and the Duke of Sussex. were far | bridegroom had, the previous year, made himself The OCTOBER 2. had THE CHEVALIER D'EON. d-being introduced to George III. by the Chevalier d'Eon, as French envoy or representative. These were the only three brilliant years of life passed in England; they were followed of disgrace. Louis XV. appointed the his permanent ambassador in D'Eon to resume his former bassy, with additional services. D'Eon, r angered in some and published letters atic secrets relating to ling an accusation very de Guercy. The French asy at this; and the count ainst him in the Court of Del. D'Eon made neither an efence, and a verdict was given he French authorities were very old of him, and even sanctioned a into a house in Scotland Yard, where osed to be residing; but he remained midden. Towards the close of 1764, he ior a bill of indictment against the Count ey, for a conspiracy to murder or injure the count, instead of rebutting the charge, ed his privileges as a foreign ambassador; and public remained of opinion that the charge was t wholly without foundation. Now ensued a strange portion of D'Eon's career. He remained in England several years, little known except by his frequent attendance at fencingmatches, in which art he was an adept. At length, in July 1777, an action was brought in the Court : and of King's Bench, the decision of which would XV. as depend on the sex of D'Eon. One man, on evidence erms of which seemed to him conclusive, betted a wager 1 him as that the chevalier was a woman, and brought an he was of action to recover the amount of the bet. Withe duties of out touching upon the evidence adduced, or the displayed a judge's comments, it will suffice to say that D'Eon When the duke from that time became regarded as Madame D'Eon, D'Eon had the and assumed female attire. A memoir of her was t from the one published, from which it appeared that she was court-journal of born at Tonnerre, in Burgundy, of parents who , early in 1763: occupied a good station in society. For the purtary to the embassy pose, as is stated, of advancing her prospects in life, y to London, and was she was, with her own consent, treated as a boy, vivernois as Knight of and received the multifarious names of Charlesr of St Louis: his Most Genevieve-Louis-Auguste-André-Timothé d'Eon de Beaumont. She was sent to Paris, and educated at the College Mazarin, where she went through the same physical and mental exercises as the other pupils. She became a well-educated person. When past the age of schooling, she became successively doctor in civil law, doctor in canon law, and avocat before the tribunals of Paris; and wrote several books which attracted attention. She was introduced to the Prince de Conti, who introduced her to Louis XV. Louis at that time wished Russia to form a league with France instead of with Prussia; but as this could not be accomplished without a little preliminary intrigue, some secret agent was needed; and D'Eon was selected for this delicate position. invested him with that 1 to him the ratification of of peace with England.' ur, who held an equivocal but it the court of Versailles, wrote te to the Duke de Nivernois, valier in the following terms: is, I am told, a very good sort of erved the king in more countries the English have been very polite the treaty to bring. This, I doubt of some advantage to him.' When the med to France in 1763, on the completion ssion, he strongly recommended D'Eon temporary representative of France in , until a permanent ambassador could be ted. So well had the chevalier conducted elf, that both monarchs assented to this; and afterwards we read of the three distinguished French savans, Lalande, La Condamine, and Camus, The memoir implies, if not directly asserts, that Louis was made acquainted with the real sex of D'Eon. Be this as it may, D'Eon made two distinct visits to Russia, in or about the year 1755; the first time dressed as a woman, the second time as a man, and not known by any one THE STORY OF MAJOR ANDRE. THE BOOK OF DAYS. WATCHING AND LIGHTING OLD LONDON. as the same person in the two capacities. So well did D'Eon succeed, that presents and rewards followed-rich gifts from the Empress Elizabeth ; and a pension, together with a lieutenancy of dragoons, from Louis. D'Eon served in the campaigns of the Seven Years' War; and then occurred the events in England between 1761 and 1777, already noticed. The end of D'Eon's life was as strange as the beginning. In woman's dress, D'Eon was in France for a time in 1779, but he resided mostly in England. | It was supposed by many that he was largely interested in bets, amounting in various quarters to the enormous sum of £70,000, depending on the question of sex; but a positive denial was given to this insinuation. At length, in 1810, the newspapers announced that the celebrated Chevalier d'Eon' died, on the 22d of May, in Millman Street, Foundling Hospital; and then, and not until then, was it decisively known that he was really and properly Chevalier d'Eon, who had so often, and for reasons so little to be comprehended, passed himself off as a woman. THE STORY OF MAJOR ANDRE. There are few monuments in Westminster Abbey which have attracted more attention than that which commemorates the sad fate of Major André. Perhaps no event of the American revolution made more aching hearts on both sides of the Atlantic. Great Britain lost two armies, and thousands of her brave soldiers were slain upon the field of battle, but it may be doubted if so many tears were shed for them all, as for this young soldier, who died upon the gallows. John André was born in London, the son of a Genevese merchant, in 1751. He was sent to Geneva to be educated, but returned to London at the age of eighteen, and, his talents having introduced him to a literary coterie, he became enamoured of Miss Honora Sneyd, a young lady of singular beauty and accomplishments. As both were very young, the marriage was postponed, and André was induced to engage in trade; but he was ambitious, and, at the age of twenty, entered the army. At the outbreak of the American war he was sent to Canada, and taken prisoner at St John's; but being exchanged, he became the favourite of that gay and gallant officer, General Sir Henry Clinton, who appointed him his aid-de-camp, and soon after adjutant-general. Young, handsome, clever, full of taste and gaiety, an artist and a poet, he was the life of the army, and the little vice-regal court that was assembled around its chief. The British occupied the American cities, and while the troops of Washington were naked and starving at Valley Forge, Sir Henry was holding a series of magnificent revels in Philadelphia, which were planned and presided over by the gallant Major André. Philadelphia was evacuated; Sir Henry returned to New York; and Major André, who had known the wife of the American general, Arnold, in Philadelphia, entered into a correspondence with him, and was the agent through whom the British general bargained, under promise of a large reward, for the surrender of Westpoint, the key of the highlands of the river Hudson. André visited Arnold within the American lines, to carry out this treachery; he was captured on his return by three American farmers, who refused his bribes; the papers proclaiming Arnold's treason were found upon him, and, by his own frank confession, he was convicted as a spy, and sentenced to be hanged. Arnold, by the blunder of an American officer, got warning, and escaped on board the Vulture. Sir Henry Clinton, by the most urgent representa tions to General Washington, tried to save his favourite adjutant, but in vain. There was but one way-the surrender of Arnold, to meet the fate decreed to André. That was impossible; and the young adjutant, then in his twenty-ninth year, after a vain appeal to Washington, that he might die a soldier's death, was hanged on the west bank of the Hudson, almost in sight of the city held by the British army, October 2, 1780. If his life had been undistinguished, he died with heroic firmness, The whole British army went into mourning, and, after the close of the war, his body was deposited near his monument in Westminster Abbey. Even in America, where the name of Arnold is a synonym of treason, the sad fate of Major André excited, and still excites, universal commiseration. OCTOBER 3. St Dionysius the Areopagite, bishop of Athens, martyr, 1st century. The Two Ewalds, martyrs, about 695. St Gerard, abbot, 959. Born.-Richard Boyle, the great Earl of Cork, 1566, Canterbury; Giovanni Baptista Beccaria, natural philosopher, 1716, Mondovi. Died.-Robert Barclay, celebrated Scottish Quaker, author of the Apology for Quaker tenets, 1690, Ury, Kincardineshire; Victor, French dramatic writer, 1846; A. E. Chalon, artist, 1860, London. WATCHING AND LIGHTING OLD LONDON. Civilisation, in its slowest progress, may be well illustrated by a glance at the past modes of guarding and lighting the tortuous and dangerous streets of old cities. From the year 1253, when Henry III. Robert Peel's police act established a new kind of established night-watchmen, until 1830, when Sir guardian, the watchman was little better than a person who 'Disturbed your rest to tell you what's o'clock.' He had been gradually getting less useful from the days of Elizabeth; thus Dogberry and his troop were unmistakable pictures of the tribe, as much relished for the satirical truth of their delineation in the reign of Anne, as in that of her virgin prede cessor. Little improvement took place until the Westminster act was passed in 1762, a measure forced on the attention of the legislature by the impunity with which robbery and murder were committed after dark. Before that year, a few wretched oil lamps only served to make darkness visible in the streets, and confuse the wayfarer by partial glimmerings across his ill-paved path. Before the great civil wars, the streets may be said to have been only lighted by chance; by the lights from windows, from lanterns grudgingly hung out THE CRESSET-BEARER. The appearance of this functionary in the sixteenth century will be best understood from the engraving here copied from one in Sharp's curious dissertation on the Coventry Mysteries. A similar cresset is still preserved in the armoury of the Tower of London. It is an open-barred pot, hanging by swivels fastened to the forked staff; in the centre of the pot is a spike, around which was coiled a rope soaked in pitch and rosin, which sputtered and burned with a lurid light, and stinking smoke, for gangs as the watchman went his rounds. The watch was established as a stern necessity; and that necessity had become stern, indeed, before his advent. Roger Hoveden has left a vivid picture of London at night in the year 1175, when it was a common practice of a 'hundred or more in a company' to besiege wealthy houses for plunder, and unscrupulously murder any one who happened to come in their way. Their vocation' was so flourishing, that when one of their number was convicted, he had the surpassing assurance to offer the king five hundred pounds of silver for his life. The gallows, however, claimed its due, and made short work with the fraternity; who continued, however, to be troublesome from time to time until Henry III., as already stated, established regular watchmen in WATCHMAN-TEMP. JAMES I. his predecessors in that of Elizabeth. He carried a halbert and a horn-lantern, was well secured in a frieze gabardine, leathern-girdled; and wore a serviceable hat, like a pent-house, to guard against weather. The worthy here depicted has a most venerable face and beard, shewing how ancient was the habit for parish officers to select the poor and feeble for the office of watchman, in order to keep them out of the poorhouse. Such 'ancient and most quiet watchmen' would naturally prefer being out of harm's way, and warn thieves to depart in peace by ringing the bell, that the wether of their flock carried; then presently call the rest of the watch together, and thank God you are rid of a knave,' as honest Dogberry advises. Above the head of the man, in the original engraving from which our cut is copied, is inscribed the cry he uttered as he walked the round of his parish. It is this: Lanthorne and a whole candell light, hange with the old local rule of London, as established out your lights heare!' This was in accordance by the mayor in 1416, that all householders of the better class, rated above a low rate in the books of lighted with a fresh and whole candle, nightly their respective parishes, should hang a lantern, outside their houses for the accommodation of foot passengers, from Allhallows evening to Candlemas day. There is another picture of a Jacobean bellman in the collection of prints in the British Museum, giving a more poetic form to the cry. It runs thus: 'A light here, maids, hang out your light, May see to pass safe without wrong.' The honest men had, however, need to be abed betimes, for total darkness fell early on the streets when the rush-candle burned in its socket; and 409 |