The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 14, No. 381, July 18, 1829

Manners & Customs of all Nations

SINGULAR TENURE

Among the records in the Tower of London, is one to the following effect:—King John gave several lands at Kipperton and Alterton, in Kent, to Solomon Atlefield to be held by this service:—"That as often as the King should please to cross the sea, the said Solomon or his heirs, should be obliged to go with him, to hold his majesty's head if there be occasion for it;" that is, should his majesty be sea-sick. And it appears by the record, that this same office of head-holding was accordingly performed afterwards, in the reign of Edward the First.

R.S

BOROUGH-ENGLISH

(For the Mirror.)

The custom of the manor of Woodford, Essex, is Borough-English, by which the youngest son inherits.

The origin of this custom has been a subject of much dispute; but it appears to have prevailed greatly among the East Saxons. Dr. Plot conjectured, that it was introduced by the lord of the manor's claiming the right of enjoying the bride, daughter of his tenant, on the wedding-night; therefore the villain or slave, doubting whether the eldest son was his own, made the youngest his heir. This custom prevailed among the Ancient Britons before there were either Saxons or villains.

By the laws of succession among the Ancient Britons, a man's land at his death did not descend to his eldest son, but was equally divided among all his sons; and when any dispute arose, it was determined by the Druids. The youngest son, it appears, was more favoured than the eldest or any of his brothers. "When the brothers have divided their father's estate, the youngest shall have the best house, with all the office-houses, the implements of husbandry, his father's kettle, his axe for cutting wood, and his knife. These three last things the father cannot give away by gift, nor leave by his last will to any but his youngest son, and if they are pledged they shall be redeemed."

To account for this law is not very difficult. The elder brothers of a family were supposed to have left their father's house before his death, and obtained a house and necessaries of their own; but the youngest, by reason of his tender age, was considered as more helpless, and not so well provided.

Halbert H.

STORM RAISING

The dread of storm raisers is universally prevalent amongst the Italian peasantry, and especially in mountainous districts. A Danish botanist, journeying alone upon an ass through the mountains of Abruzzi, was involved in several perilous adventures by this superstitious terror of the peasantry. They had for some time seen him collecting plants amongst the unfrequented cliffs and ravines, and watched his proceedings with suspicious curiosity. A few days later their district was ravaged by a succession of storms, their suspicions grew into certainty, and, assembling in considerable numbers, they attacked the unconscious botanist with a volley of stones, and cursed him as a storm-raising enchanter. He made vehement protestations of his innocence, but the enraged peasants took forcible possession of his collection, which they minutely examined. Finding only some harmless leaves and blossoms, and no roots, their fury abated, and, although it was suggested by some that he had probably used the roots in his incantations, the unfortunate herbalist was at length dismissed with fierce menaces, that if he dared to take a single root from the ground, it would cost him his life. In the mountains near Rome, the peasants regard with suspicion a singular costume, a stern cast of countenance, or any striking personal formation, in the strangers who arrive there. All travellers, thus peculiarly marked, are supposed to be enchanters and treasure-seekers, and the young Germans, in their black dresses, untrimmed beards, and long hair, are especial objects of suspicion.—Blackwood's Magazine.

NEAPOLITAN SUPERSTITION

The Neapolitan sailors never go to sea without a box of small images or puppets, some of which are patron saints, inherited from their progenitors, while others are more modern, but of tried efficacy in the hour of peril. When a storm overtakes the vessel, the sailors leave her to her fate, and bring upon deck the box of saints, one of which is held up, and loudly prayed to for assistance. The storm, however, increases, and the obstinate or powerless saint is vehemently abused, and thrown upon the deck. Others are held up, prayed to, abused, and thrown down in succession, until the heavens become more propitious. The storm abates, all danger disappears, the saint last prayed to acquires the reputation of miraculous efficacy, and, after their return to Naples, is honoured with prayers.—Ibid.

The Naturalist

LENGTH AND FINENESS OF THE SILKWORM'S WEB, &c

Baker in The Microscope made Easy, says, "A silkworm's web being examined, appeared perfectly smooth and shining, every where equal, and much finer than any thread the best spinster in the world can make, as the smallest twine is finer than the thickest cable. A pod of this silk being wound off, was found to contain 930 yards; but it is proper to take notice, that as two threads are glewed together by the worm through its whole length, it makes double the above number, or 1,860 yards; which being weighed with the utmost exactness, were found no heavier than two grains and a half. What an exquisite fineness is here! and yet, this is nothing when compared with the web of a small spider, or even with the silk that issued from the mouth of this very worm, when but newly hatched from the egg."

Under the article Silk, in Rees's Cyclopaedia, the writer says, "that those who have examined it attentively, think they speak within compass, when they affirm that each ball contains silk enough to reach the length of six English miles."

Baker tells us, "not to neglect the skins these animals cast off three times before they begin to spin; for the eyes, mouth, teeth, ornaments of the head, and many other parts may be discovered better in the cast-off skins than in the real animal."

P.T.W

CUCKOO

Mr. Jerdan, editor of the Literary Gazette, in a letter to Mr. Loudon, says, "about fifteen years ago I obtained a cuckoo from the nest of (I think) a hedge sparrow, at Old Brompton, where I then resided. It was rather curious, as being within ten yards of my house, Cromwell Cottage, and in a narrow and much frequented lane, leading from near Gloucester Lodge to Kensington. This bird I reared and kept alive till late in January; when it fell suddenly from its perch, while feeding on a rather large dew worm. It was buried: but I had, long afterwards, strange misgivings, that my poor feathered favourite was only choked by his food, or in a fit of some kind—his apparent death was so extremely unexpected from his health and liveliness at the time. I assure you that I regretted my loss much, my bird being in full plumage and a very handsome creature. He was quite tame, for in autumn I used to set him on a branch of a tree in the garden, while I dug worms for him to dine upon, and he never attempted more than a short friendly flight. During the coldest weather, and it was rather a sharp winter, my only precaution was, nearly to cover his cage with flannel; and when I used to take it off, more or less, on coming into my breakfast room in the morning, I was recognised by him with certainly not all the cry "unpleasant to a married ear," but with its full half "Cuck! Cuck!"—the only sounds or notes I ever heard from my bird. Though trifling, these facts may be so far curious as illustrating the natural history of a remarkable genus, and I have great pleasure in offering them for your excellent Journal." Mag. Nat. Hist.

MUSICAL SNAILS

As I was sitting in my room, on the first floor, about nine P.M. (4th of October last), I was surprised with what I supposed to be the notes of a bird, under or upon the sill of a window. My impression was, that they somewhat resembled the notes of a wild duck in its nocturnal flight, and, at times, the twitter of a redbreast, in quick succession. To be satisfied on the subject, I carefully removed the shutter, and, to my surprise, found it was a garden snail, which, in drawing itself along the glass, had produced sounds similar to those elicited from the musical glasses.—Ibid.

BEWICK

In the museum at Newcastle are many of the identical specimens from which the illustrious townsman Bewick drew his figures for the wood-cuts which embellish his unique and celebrated work. This truly amiable man, and, beyond all comparison, greatest genius Newcastle has ever produced, died on the 8th of November last, in the 76th year of his age. He continued to the last in the enjoyment of all his faculties; his single-heartedness and enthusiasm not a jot abated, and his wonder-working pencil still engaged in tracing, with his wonted felicity and fidelity, those objects which had all his life afforded him such delight, and which have charmed, and must continue to charm, all those who have any relish for the pure and simple beauties of nature.—Ibid.