SIGNS
A Scotch Innkeeper, who had determined on adopting the sign of Flodden Well, was much puzzled for a suitable inscription. At length he waited on Sir Walter Scott, and asked his aid, observing, that "as he had written so much about it in Marmion, he might know something that would do for an inscription." The poet immediately replied, "Why, man, I think ye cannot do better than take a verse from the poem itself." The innkeeper expressed his willingness to do this, when Sir Walter said to him, "Well, then, you have nothing to do, but just to leave out one letter from the line
'Drink, weary traveller—drink and pray;'
and say instead
'Drink, weary traveller—drink and pay!'"
Dean Swift's barber one day told him that he had taken a public-house. "And what's your sign?" said the dean. "Oh, the pole and bason; and if your worship would just write me a few lines to put upon it, by way of motto, I have no doubt but it would draw me plenty of customers." The dean took out his pencil, and wrote the following couplet, which long graced the barber's sign:
"Rove not from pole to pole, but step in here,
Where nought excels the shaving, but the beer."
SOLDIERS
Equality in Danger.—The French General, Cherin, was once conducting a detachment through a very difficult defile. He exhorted his soldiers to endure patiently the fatigues of the march. "It is easy for you to talk," said one of the soldiers near him; "you who are mounted on a fine horse—but we poor devils!"—On hearing these words, Cherin dismounted, and quickly proposed to the discontented soldier to take his place. The latter did so; but scarcely had he mounted, when a shot from the adjoining heights struck and killed him. "You see," says Cherin, addressing his troops, "that the most elevated place is not the least dangerous." After which he remounted his horse, and continued the march.
Marshal Suwarrow in his march to the attack of Ockzakow, proceeded with such rapidity at the head of his advanced guard, that his men began to murmur at the fatigues they endured. The Marshal, apprized of this circumstance, after a long day's march, drew his men up in a hollow square, and addressing them, said, "that his legs had that day discovered some symptoms of mutiny, as they refused to second the impulses of his mind, which urged him forward to the attack of the enemy's fortress." He then ordered his boots to be taken off, and some of the drummers to advance with their cats, and flog his legs, which ceremony was continued till they bled considerably. He put on his boots again very coolly, expressing a hope that his legs would in future better know how to discharge their duty. The soldiers after that marched on without a murmur, struck at once with the magnanimity of their commander, and the ingenuity of his device to remind them of their duty.
Brief Explanation.—A French colonel, in taking a redoubt from the Russians on the Moskwa, lost twelve hundred of his men, more than one half of whom remained dead in the entrenchment which they had so energetically carried. When Bonaparte the next morning reviewed this regiment, he asked the colonel what he had done with one of his battalions? "Sire," replied he, "it is in the redoubt."
Death of a Hero.—At the battle of Malplaquet, in 1709, Marshal Villars was dangerously wounded, and desired to receive the Holy Sacrament. Being advised to receive in private, he said, "No, if the army cannot see me die like a hero, they shall see me die as a Christian."
Magdeline de Savoie.—Anne Duc de Montmorenci, who was prime minister and great constable of France during the reigns of Francis I., Henry II., Francis II., and Charles IX., was very unwilling to take up arms against the Prince of Condé and the Coligny's, to whom he was endeared by the ties of friendship, as well as those of consanguinity. He was however induced to give way by the following animated and forcible speech of his wife, Magdeline de Savoie: "It is then in vain, sir, that you have taken as a motto to your escutcheon, the word of command that your ancestors always gave at the outset of every battle in which they were engaged (Dieu aide du premier Chretien). If you do not fight with all your energy in defence of that religion which is now attempted to be destroyed, who then is to give an example of respect and of veneration for the Holy See, if not he who takes his very name, his arms, his nobility, from the first baron of France who professed the holy religion of Christ?"
A Relay of Legs.—Rivardes, a Piedmontese, had attached himself to the house of France, and was much esteemed as a soldier. He had lost one of his legs, and had worn a wooden one for some time, when in an engagement a ball carried off the latter, leaving him the other safe and sound. On being raised up, he exclaimed laughingly, "What fools these fellows are! They would have saved their shot had they known that I had two others equally good among my baggage."
Present!—During the Crimean war a French captain wrote to the Curé of his native place in these words: "I endeavour to regulate my affairs in such sort, that if God should address to me the call, I may be able to answer, Present!" Not long after this the brave captain met his death under the walls of Sebastopol.
Quartering.—At an election for Shrewsbury, in the reign of George I., a half-pay officer, who was a nonresident burgess, was, with some other voters, brought down from London at the expense of Mr. Kynaston, one of the candidates. The old campaigner regularly attended and feasted at the houses which were opened for the electors in Mr. Kynaston's interest until the last day of the polling, when, to the astonishment of the party, he gave his vote to his opponent. For this strange conduct he was reproached by his quondam companions, and asked what could have induced him to act so dishonourable a part as to become an apostate. "An apostate," answered the old soldier, "an apostate! by no means—I made up my mind about whom I would vote for before I set out upon this campaign, but I remembered Marlborough's constant advice to us when I served with the army in Flanders, 'Always quarter upon the enemy, my lads—always quarter upon the enemy.'"
Seeking for a Ball.—The Count de Grancé being wounded in the knee with a musket ball, the surgeons made many incisions. At last, losing patience, he asked them why they treated him so unmercifully? "We are seeking for the ball," said they. "Why then did you not speak before?" said the Count, "I could have saved you the trouble, for I have it in my pocket."
Turenne.—In the year 1675, the Council of Vienna sent Montecuculi to oppose Turenne, as the only officer that was thought to be a match for him. Both generals were perfect masters of the art of war. They passed four months in watching each other, and in marches and counter-marches; at length Turenne thought he had got his rival into such a situation as he wanted, near Saltsbach, when, going to choose a place to erect a battery, he was unfortunately struck by a cannon shot, which killed him on the spot. The same ball having carried away the arm of St. Hilaire, lieutenant-general of the artillery, his son, who was near, could not forbear weeping. "Weep not for me," said Hilaire, "but for the brave man who lies there, whose loss to his country nothing can repair."
Generosity of Turenne.—The deputies of a great metropolis in Germany, once offered the great Turenne one hundred thousand crowns not to pass with his army through their city. "Gentlemen," said he, "I cannot in conscience accept your money, as I had no intention to pass that way."
TEMPER
Henderson, the actor, was seldom known to be in a passion. When at Oxford, he was one day debating with a fellow student, who, not keeping his temper, threw a glass of wine in the actor's face; upon which Henderson took out his handkerchief, wiped his face, and coolly said, "That, sir, was a digression; now for the argument."
Peter the Great made a law in 1722, that if any nobleman beat or ill-treat his slaves he should be looked upon as insane, and a guard should be appointed to take care of his person and his estate. This great monarch once struck his gardener, who being a man of great sensibility, took to his bed, and died in a few days. Peter, hearing of this, exclaimed, with tears in his eyes, "Alas! I have civilized my own subjects; I have conquered other nations; yet I have not been able to civilize or conquer myself."
Fletcher, of Saltown, is well known to have possessed a most irritable temper. His footman desired to be dismissed. "Why do you leave me?" said he. "Because, sir," to speak the truth, "I cannot bear your temper." "To be sure, I am passionate, but my passion is no sooner on than it is off." "Yes, sir," replied the servant, "but then it is no sooner off than it is on."
A Neat Reply.—In certain debates in the House of Lords, in 1718, the bills proposed were opposed by Bishop Atterbury, who said, "he had prophesied last winter, that this bill would be attempted in the present session, and he was sorry to find he had proved a true prophet." Lord Coningsby, who usually spoke in a passion, rose, and remarked, that "one of the right reverends had set himself forth as a prophet; but for his part, he did not know what prophet to liken him to, unless to that famous prophet Balaam, who was reproved by his own ass." The bishop, in reply, with great readiness and temper exposed this rude attack, concluding in these words: "Since the noble lord hath discovered in our manners such a similitude, I must be content to be compared to the prophet Balaam; but, my lords, I am at a loss how to make out the other part of the parallel. I am sure that I have been reproved by nobody but his lordship." From that day forth, Lord Coningsby was called "Atterbury's Pad."
Dr. Hough, of Worcester, was remarkable for evenness of temper, of which the following story affords a proof. A young gentleman, whose family had been well acquainted with the doctor, in making the tour of England before he went abroad, called to pay his respects to him as he passed by his seat in the country. It happened to be at dinner-time, and the room full of company. The bishop, however, received him with much familiarity; but the servant in reaching him a chair, threw down a curious weather-glass that had cost twenty guineas, and broke it. The gentleman was under infinite concern, and began to make an apology for being the occasion of the accident, when the bishop with great good nature interrupted him. "Be under no concern, sir," said his lordship, smiling, "for I am much beholden to you for it. We have had a very dry season; and now I hope we shall have rain. I never saw the glass so low in my life." Every one was pleased with the humour and pleasantry of the turn; and the more so, as the Doctor was then more than eighty, a time of life when the infirmities of old age make most men peevish and hasty.
A Test.—A cobbler at Leyden, who used to attend the public disputations held at the academy, was once asked if he understood Latin? "No," replied the mechanic, "but it is easy to know who is wrong in the argument." "How?" enquired his friend. "Why, by seeing who is first angry."
Casaubon, in his "Treatise on the Passions," relates the following pleasing anecdote of Robert, one of the greatest monarchs that ever swayed the sceptre of France. Having once surprised a rogue who had cut away the half of his mantle, he took no other notice of the offence than by saying mildly to him, "Save thyself, sinner, and leave the rest for another who may have need of it."
Garrick once complained to Sir Joshua Reynolds of the abuse with which he was loaded by Foote, when Sir Joshua answered, that Foote, in so doing, gave the strongest possible proof of being in the wrong; as it was always the man who had the worst side who became violent and abusive.
TIME, VALUE OF
Spare Moments.—The great French Chancellor D'Aguesseau carefully employed every moment of his time. Observing that Madame D'Aguesseau always delayed ten or twelve minutes before she came down to dinner, he began to compose a work to which he intended to devote these few minutes, which would otherwise have been lost. The result was, at the end of fifteen years, a work in three large quarto volumes, which went through several editions.
Buffon thus relates the manner in which he acquired a habit of early rising. "In my youth," says he, "I was excessively fond of sleep, and that indolence robbed me of much time. My poor Joseph (a domestic who served him for sixty-five years) was of the greatest benefit to me in overcoming it. I promised him a crown for every time he should make me get up at six o'clock. He failed not the next day to rouse me, but I only abused and threatened him. He tried the day following, and I did the same, which made him desist. 'Friend Joseph,' said I to him at last, 'I have lost my time and you have gained nothing. You do not know how to manage the matter. Think only of my promise, and do not regard my threatenings.' The day following he accomplished his point. At first I begged, then entreated and abused, and would have discharged him; but he disregarded me, and raised me up by absolute force. He had his reward every day for my ill-humour at the moment of waking, by thanks, and a crown an hour after. I owe to poor Joseph at least ten or twelve volumes of my works."
Cuvier, the celebrated naturalist, was singularly careful of his time, and did not like those who entered his house to deprive him of it. "I know," said he, "that Monsieur l'Abbé Hauy comes to see me; our conversation is an exchange; but I do not want a man to come and tell me whether it is hot or cold, raining or sunshine. My barometer and thermometer know more than all possible visitors; and in my studies in natural history," added he, "I have not found in the whole animal kingdom a species, or class, or family, who frighten me so much as the numerous family of idlers"
Dr. Pepusch.—"In one of my visits, very early in life, to that venerable master, Dr. Pepusch," says Dr. Burney, "he gave me a short lesson, which made so deep an impression that I long endeavoured to practise it. 'When I was a young man,' said he, 'I determined never to go to bed at night, till I knew something that I did not know in the morning.'"
TRAVELLING
A Tiresome Companion.—The celebrated George Selwyn was once travelling, and was interrupted by the frequent impertinence of a companion, who was constantly teasing him with questions, and asking him how he did. "How are you now, sir?" said the impertinent. George, in order to get rid of his importunity, replied, "Very well: and I intend to continue so all the rest of the journey."
Charles Lamb.—A farmer, by chance a companion in a coach with Charles Lamb, kept boring him to death with questions, in the jargon of agriculturists, about crops. At length he put a poser—"And pray, sir, how are turnips this year?" "Why that, sir," stammered out Lamb, "will depend upon the boiled legs of mutton."
Clans.—An English gentleman travelling through the Highlands, came to the inn of Letter Finlay, in the braes of Lochaber. He saw no person near the inn, and knocked at the door. No answer. He knocked repeatedly with as little success; he then opened the door, and walked in. On looking about, he saw a man lying on a bed, whom he hailed thus: "Are there any Christians in this house?" "No," was the reply, "we are all Camerons."
Welcome Sight.—A writer of a modern book of travels, relating the particulars of his being cast away, thus concludes: "After having walked eleven hours without having traced the print of human foot, to my great comfort and delight, I saw a man hanging upon a gibbet; my pleasure at the cheering prospect was inexpressible; for it convinced me that I was in a civilized country!"
WAR
Camp Dinner.—During the war, in which the eccentric Count Schaumbourg Lippe commanded the artillery in the army of Prince Frederick of Brunswick, against the French, he one day invited several Hanoverian officers to dine with him in his tent. When the company were in high spirits, and full of gaiety, several cannon balls flew in different directions about the tent. "The French," exclaimed the officers, "are not far off." "No, no," replied the Count, "the enemy, I assure you, are at a great distance; keep your seats." The firing soon afterwards recommenced; when one of the balls carrying away the top of the tent, the officers suddenly rose from their chairs, exclaiming, "The French are here!" "No," replied the Count, "the French are not here; and, therefore, gentlemen, I desire you will again sit down, and rely upon my word." The balls continued to fly about; the officers, however, continued to eat and drink without apprehension, though not without whispering their conjectures to each other upon the singularity of their entertainment. The Count, at length, rose from the table, and addressing himself to the company, said, "Gentlemen, I was willing to convince you how well I can rely upon the officers of my artillery; for I ordered them to fire during the time we continued at dinner, at the pinnacle of the tent, and they have executed my orders with great punctuality."
A Ragged Regiment.—In 1690, the French attacked and defeated the Prince of Waldeck at Fleurus. During this action, a lieutenant-colonel of a French regiment was on the point of charging. Not knowing how to animate his men, who were discontented at having commenced the campaign without being fresh clothed, he said to them, "My friends, I congratulate you, that you have the good fortune to be in presence of a regiment newly clothed. Charge them vigorously, and we will clothe ourselves." This pleasantry so inspired the soldiers, that they rushed on, and speedily defeated the regiment.
The Ladies of Beauvais.—Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, laid siege to the City of Beauvais in the year 1472. After investing it closely for twenty-one days, his troops made a general assault, and were on the point of carrying the place, when a band of women, headed by a lady of the name of Jeanne Hachette, rushing to the walls, opposed such a resistance, with showers of stones, and other missiles, that the tide of fortune was instantaneously turned. A Burgundian officer, who attempted to plant the duke's standard on the walls, was fiercely attacked by Jeanne Hachette, who, snatching the standard from his hands, threw him headlong over the wall. The assailants, in short, were completely repulsed; nor was the distaff, once thrown aside, resumed, till the ladies of Beauvais had forced the Duke of Burgundy to retire in shame from their walls. In memory of this gallant achievement, the Municipality of Beauvais ordered a general procession of the inhabitants to take place every year, on the 10th of July, the day on which the siege was raised, in which the ladies were to have the privilege of preceding the men. As long as Jeanne Hachette lived, she marched in this annual procession, at the head of the women, bearing the standard which she had captured from the Burgundian officer; and at her death this standard was deposited in the church of the Dominicans, and a portrait of the heroine placed in the Town-Hall of Beauvais.
Charles XII. was dictating a letter to his secretary during the siege of Stralsund, when a bomb fell through the roof into the next room of the house where they were sitting. The terrified secretary let the pen drop from his hand. "What is the matter?" said Charles, calmly. The secretary replied, "Ah, sire, the bomb!" "But what has the bomb to do," said Charles, "with what I am dictating to you?—go on."
Gonsalvo of Cordova.—In an engagement which the Spaniards fought under Gonsalvo of Cordova, their powder-magazine was blown up by the first discharge of the enemy; but so far was this from discouraging the general, that he immediately cried out to his soldiers, "My brave boys, the victory is ours! Heaven tells us by this signal that we shall have no further occasion for our artillery." This confidence of the general passed on to the soldiers; they rushed to the contest, and gained a complete victory.
Algerine Captain.—Louis XIV., who had once bombarded Algiers, ordered the Marquess du Quesne to bombard it a second time, in order to punish the treachery and insolence of the Moors. The despair in which the Corsairs found themselves at not being able to beat the fleet off their coasts, caused them to bring all the French slaves, and fasten them to the mouths of their cannon, where they were blown to pieces, the different limbs of their bodies falling even among the French ships. An Algerine captain, who had been taken on a cruize, and well treated by the French while he had been their prisoner, one day perceived, among those unfortunate Frenchmen who were doomed to the cruel fate just mentioned, an officer named Choiseul, from whom he had received the most signal acts of kindness. The Algerine immediately begged, entreated, and solicited in the most pressing manner, to save the life of the generous Frenchman; but all in vain. At last, when they were going to fire the cannon to which Choiseul was fixed, the captain threw himself on the body of his friend, and closely embracing him in his arms, said to the cannonier, "Fire! since I cannot serve my benefactor, I shall at least have the consolation of dying with him." The Dey, in whose presence this scene passed, was so affected with it, that he commanded the French officer to be set free.
Marshal Boufflers.—A few days previous to the battle of Malplaquet, it was publicly talked of at Versailles, that a very important battle would soon take place between the French army commanded by Marshal Villars, and the allied army under Prince Eugene and Marlborough. Louis XIV., who for some years had met with many mortifying repulses, seemed to be very uneasy about the event. Marshal Boufflers, in order to quiet in some degree the perturbation of his sovereign's mind, offered, though a senior officer to Villars, to go and serve under him, sacrificing all personal considerations to the glory of his country. His proposal was accepted, and he repaired to the camp. On his arrival, a very singular contest took place between the two commanders. Villars desired to have Boufflers for his leader; but the latter persisted in yielding him all the glory, while he shared the danger. No event in the life of Boufflers ever contributed more to render his name illustrious. Marshal Villars, who commanded the left wing at the battle, being obliged to retire on account of a wound he had received, Marshal Boufflers charged the enemy six times after this accident; but finding they had made themselves master of a wood through which they penetrated into the centre of the French army, he yielded them the field of battle, and made a retreat in such good order, that the allies declined pursuing him.
War by Candle Light.—Shortly after the commencement of the last Peninsular war, a tax was laid on candles, which, as a political economist would prove, made them dearer. A Scotch wife, in Greenock, remarked to her chandler that the price was raised, and asked why. "It's a' owin' to the war," said he. "The war!" said the astonished matron, "gracious me! are they gaun to fight by candle licht?"
Admiral Duncan's address to the officers of his fleet, when they came on board his ship for his final instructions, previous to the memorable engagement with Admiral De Winter, was couched in the following laconic and humorous words:—"Gentlemen of my Fleet, you see a very severe Winter fast approaching; and I have only to advise you to keep up a good fire!"
A Noble Enemy.—When the Laura and Andromeda frigates were wrecked in a violent hurricane in the West Indies, on the coast of the Martinique, thirty-five men were thrown ashore alive. The Marquess de Bouille, on hearing of the circumstance, took them to his house, where he treated them most hospitably. After he had cured them of their bruises and sickness, and had clothed them from head to foot, he sent them with a flag of truce to the commanding officer of St. Lucia, with a letter, stating that these men having experienced the horrors of shipwreck, he would not add those of war, and had therefore set them free, and at liberty again to serve their country.
French Grenadier.—During the assault of Thurot on the town of Carrickfergus in 1760, an incident took place, reflecting at once the highest lustre on the soldier concerned, and evincing the union of consummate courage with noble humanity. Whilst the combatants were opposed to each other in the streets, and every inch was pertinaciously disputed by the British forces, a child by some accident escaped from a house in the midst of the scene of action, and ran, unawed by the danger, into the narrow interval between the hostile fronts. One of the French grenadiers seeing the imminent danger of the child, grounded his piece; left the ranks in the hottest fire; took the child in his arms, and placed it in safety in the house from which it had come, and then with all possible haste returned to resume his part in the fight.
George I.—During the siege of Fort St. Philip, a young lieutenant of marines was so unfortunate as to lose both his legs by a chain-shot. In this miserable and helpless condition he was conveyed to England, and a memorial of his case presented to a board; but nothing more than half-pay could be obtained. Major Manson had the poor lieutenant conducted to court on a public day, in his uniform; where, posted in the ante-room, and supported by two of his brother officers, he cried out, as the king was passing to the drawing-room, "Behold, sire, a man who refuses to bend his knee to you; he has lost both in your service." The king, struck no less by the singularity of his address, than by the melancholy object before him, stopped, and hastily demanded what had been done for him. "Half-pay," replied the lieutenant, "and please your majesty." "Fye, fye on't," said the king, shaking his head; "but let me see you again next levee-day." The lieutenant did not fail to appear, when he received from the immediate hand of royalty a present of five hundred pounds, and an annuity of two hundred pounds a-year for life.
Charles VI.—At the breaking out of the war against the Turks, in the year 1717, the Emperor Charles VI. of Austria took leave of his general, Prince Eugene, with the following words: "Prince, I have set over you a general, who is always to be called to your council, and in whose name all your operations are to be undertaken." With this he put into his hand a crucifix, richly set with diamonds, at the foot of which was the following inscription, 'Jesus Christus Generalissimus.'—"Forget not," added the Emperor, "that you are fighting his battles who shed his blood for man upon the Cross. Under his supreme guidance, attack and overwhelm the enemies of Christ and Christianity."
George the Second.—It was once found an impracticable task to make George the Second acquiesce in a judgment passed by a court-martial on the conduct of two officers high in the army. One of the officers had made himself amenable to military law, by fighting in opposition to the orders of his commander in chief, instead of retreating; by which act of disobedience, the general's plans were frustrated. On these circumstances being detailed to the king, his majesty exclaimed, "Oh! the one fight, the other run away." "Your majesty will have the goodness to understand, that General – did not run away; it was necessary for the accomplishment of his schemes, that he should cause the army to retreat at that critical moment; this he would have conducted with his wonted skill, but for the breach of duty in the officer under the sentence of the court-martial." "I understand," impatiently returned the king; "one fight, he was right; the other run away, he was wrong." It was in vain that ministers renewed their arguments and explanations; his majesty could not, or would not, understand the difference between a disgraceful flight and a politic retreat; they were therefore obliged to end a discussion which merely drew forth the repetition of the same judgment—"The one face the enemy and fight, he right; the other turn his back and not fight, he wrong."
Ximenes.—At the siege of Oran, in Africa, Cardinal Ximenes led the Spanish troops to the breach, mounted on a charger, dressed in his pontifical robes, and preceded by a monk on horseback, who bore his archiepiscopal cross. "Go on, go on, my children," exclaimed he to the soldiers, "I am at your head. A priest should think it an honour to expose his life for his religion. I have an example in my predecessors, in the archbishopric of Toledo. Go on to victory." When his victorious troops took possession of the town, he burst into tears on seeing the number of the dead that were lying on the ground; and was heard to say to himself, "They were indeed infidels, but they might have become Christians. By their death, they have deprived us of the principal advantage of the victory we have gained over them."
An Odd Grenadier.—During the famous siege of Gibraltar, in the absence of the fleet, and when an attack was daily expected, one dark night, a sentinel, whose post was near a tower facing the Spanish lines, was standing at the end of his walk, looking towards them, his head filled with nothing but fire and sword, miners, breaching, storming, and bloodshed, while by the side of his box stood a deep narrow-necked earthen jug, in which was the remainder of his supper, consisting of boiled pease. A large monkey (of which there were plenty at the top of the rock), encouraged by the man's absence, and allured by the smell of the pease, ventured to the jug; and, in endeavouring to get at its contents, thrust his neck so far into the jug, as to be unable to withdraw it. At this instant, the soldier approaching, the monkey started up to escape, with the jug on his head. This terrible monster no sooner saluted the eyes of the sentry, than his frantic imagination converted poor pug into a blood-thirsty Spanish grenadier, with a tremendous cap on his head. Full of this dreadful idea, he instantly fired his piece, roaring out that the enemy had scaled the walls. The guards took the alarm; the drums were beat; signal-guns fired; and in less than ten minutes, the governor and his whole garrison were under arms. The supposed grenadier, being very much incommoded by his cap, and almost blinded by the pease, was soon overtaken and seized; and by this capture, the tranquillity of the garrison was soon restored, without that slaughter and bloodshed which every man had prognosticated at the beginning of this dire alarm.