The Works of Charles and Mary Lamb
Chapter 525 : Apology will scarcely be required for introducing a character, who at this season of t

Apology will scarcely be required for introducing a character, who at this season of the year comes forth in renovated honours, and may aptly be termed one of its _ever-blues_--not a peculiar of either Farringdons, nor him of Cripplegate, or St. Giles in the Fields, or of any ward or precinct within the bills: not this or that "good man"--but the _universal parish beadle_. "How Christmas and consolatory he looks! how redolent of good cheer is he! He is a cornucopia--an abundance. What pudding sleeves!--what a collar, red, and like a beef steak, is his! He is a walking refreshment! He looks like a whole parish, full, important--but untaxed. The children of charity gaze at him with a modest smile. The straggling boys look on him with confidence. They do not pocket their marbles. They do not fly from their familiar gutter.

This is a red letter day; and the cane is reserved for to-morrow."

For the pleasant verbal description we are indebted to an agreeable writer in the "London Magazine;"[57] his corporal lineaments are "borrowed" (with permission) from a new caricature,[58] if it may be given so low a name, wherein this figure stands out, the very gem and jewel, in a grouping of characters of all sorts and denominations a.s.sembled with "infinite fancy" and "fun," to ill.u.s.trate the designer's views of the age. It is a graphic satire of character rather than caricatura; mostly of cla.s.s-characters, not persons; wherein the ridicule bears heavily, but is broad and comprehensive enough to s.h.i.+ft from one neighbour to another.

[57] For Dec., 1822.

[58] The Progress of Cant; designed and etched by one of the authors of "Odes and Addresses to Great People;" and published by T.

Maclean, Haymarket, L. Relfe, Cornhill; and d.i.c.kenson, New Bond-Street.

VII.--THE MONTHS

(1826)

_For the Every-Day Book_

Rummaging over the contents of an old stall at a half _book_, half _old iron shop_, in an alley leading from Wardour-street to Soho-square yesterday, I lit upon a ragged duodecimo, which had been the strange delight of my infancy, and which I had lost sight of for more than forty years:--the "QUEEN-LIKE CLOSET, or RICH CABINET:" written by Hannah Woolly, and printed for R. C. & T. S. 1681; being an abstract of receipts in cookery, confectionary, cosmetics, needlework, morality, and all such branches of what were then considered as female accomplishments. The price demanded was sixpence, which the owner (a little squab duodecimo of a character himself) enforced with the a.s.surance that his "own mother should not have it for a farthing less."

On my demurring at this extraordinary a.s.sertion, the dirty little vendor reinforced his a.s.sertion with a sort of oath, which seemed more than the occasion demanded: "and now (said he) I have put my soul to it." Pressed by so solemn an a.s.severation, I could no longer resist a demand which seemed to set me, however unworthy, upon a level with his dearest relations; and depositing a tester, I bore away the tattered prize in triumph. I remembered a gorgeous description of the twelve months of the year, which I thought would be a fine subst.i.tute for those poetical descriptions of them which your _Every-Day Book_ had nearly exhausted out of Spenser. This will be a treat, thought I, for friend HONE. To memory they seemed no less fantastic and splendid than the other. But, what are the mistakes of childhood!--on reviewing them, they turned out to be only a set of common-place receipts for working the seasons, months, heathen G.o.ds and G.o.ddesses, &c. in _samplars_! Yet as an instance of the homely occupations of our great-grandmothers, they may be amusing to some readers: "I have seen," says the notable Hannah Woolly, "such Ridiculous things done in work, as it is an abomination to any Artist to behold. As for Example: You may find in some Pieces, _Abraham_ and _Sarah_, and many other Persons of Old time, Cloathed, as they go now a-daies, and truly sometimes worse; for they most resemble the Pictures on Ballads. Let all Ingenious Women have regard, that when they work any Image, to represent it aright. First, let it be Drawn well, and then observe the Directions which are given by Knowing Men. I do a.s.sure you, I never durst work any Scripture-Story without informing my self from the Ground of it: nor any other Story, or single Person, without informing my self both of the Visage and Habit; As followeth.

"If you work _Jupiter, the Imperial feigned G.o.d_, He must have long Black-Curled-hair, a Purple Garment trimmed with Gold, and sitting upon a Golden Throne, with bright yellow Clouds about him."

The Twelve Months of the Year

_March:_

Is drawn in Tawny, with a fierce aspect, a Helmet upon his head, and leaning on a Spade, and a Basket of Garden Seeds in his Left hand, and in his Right hand the Sign of _Aries_; And Winged.

_April._

A Young Man in Green, with a Garland of Mirtle, and Hawthorn-Buds; Winged; in one hand Primroses and Violets, in the other the Sign _Taurus_.

_May._

With a sweet and lovely Countenance, clad in a Robe of White and Green, embroidered with several Flowers, upon his Head a garland of all manner of Roses; on the one hand a Nightingale, in the other a Lute. His Sign must be _Gemini_.

_June._

In a Mantle of dark Gra.s.s-green, upon his Head a garland of Bents, Kings-Cups, and Maiden-hair; in his Left hand an Angle, with a box of Cantharides, in his Right, the Sign _Cancer_, and upon his arms a Basket of seasonable Fruits.

_July._

In a Jacket of light Yellow, eating Cherries; with his Face and Bosom Sun-burnt; on his Head a wreath of Centaury and wild Tyme; a Seith on his shoulder, and a Bottle at his girdle: carrying the Sign _Leo_.

_August._

A Young Man of fierce and Cholerick aspect, in a Flame-coloured Garment; upon his Head a garland of Wheat and Rye, upon his Arm a Basket of all manner of ripe Fruits, at his Belt a Sickle. His Sign _Virgo_.

_September._

A merry and cheerful Countenance, in a Purple Robe, upon his Head a Wreath of red and white Grapes, in his Left hand a handful of Oats, withal carrying a Horn of Plenty, full of all manner of ripe-Fruits, in his Right hand the Sign _Libra_.

_October._

In a Garment of Yellow and Carnation, upon his head a garland of Oak-leaves with Akorns, in his Right hand the Sign _Scorpio_, in his Left hand a Basket of Medlars, Services, and Chesnuts; and any other Fruits then in Season.

_November._

In a Garment of Changeable Green and Black upon his Head, a garland of Olives with the Fruit in his Left hand, Bunches of Parsnips and Turnips in his Right. His Sign _Sagittarius_.

_December._

A horrid and fearful aspect, clad in Irish-Rags, or coa.r.s.e Freez girt unto him, upon his Head three or four Night-Caps, and over them a Turkish Turbant; his Nose red, his Mouth and Beard clog'd with Isicles, at his back a bundle of Holly, Ivy or Misletoe, holding in fur'd Mittens the Sign of _Capricornus_.

_January._

Clad all in White, as the Earth looks with the Snow, blowing his Nails; in his Left Arm a Billet, the Sign _Aquarius_ standing by his side.

_February._

Cloathed in a dark Skie-colour, carrying in his Right hand the Sign _Pisces_.

The following receipt, "_To dress up a Chimney very fine for the Summer time, as I have done many, and they have been liked very well_" may not be unprofitable to the house-wives of this century.

"First, take a pack-thred, and fasten it even to the inner part of the Chimney, so high as that you can see no higher as you walk up and down the House; you must drive in several Nails to hold up all your work; then get good store of old green Moss from Trees, and melt an equal proportion of Bees-wax and Rosin together, and while it is hot, dip the wrong ends of the Moss in it, and presently clap it upon your pack-thred, and press it down hard with your hand; you must make hast, else it will cool before you can fasten it, and then it will fall down; do so all round where the pack-thred goes, and the next row you must joyn to that so that it may seem all in one; thus do till you have finished it down to the bottom: then take some other kind of Moss, of a whitish-colour and stiff, and of several sorts or kinds, and place that upon the other, here and there carelessly, and in some places put a good deal, and some a little; then any kind of fine Snail-sh.e.l.ls, in which the Snails are dead, and little Toad stools, which are very old, and look like Velvet, or _any other thing that is old and pretty_; place it here and there as your fancy serves, and fasten all with Wax and Rosin.

Then for the Hearth of your Chimney, you may lay some Orpan-Sprigs in order all over, and it will grow as it lies; and according to the Season, get what flowers you can, and stick in as if they grew, and a few sprigs of Sweet-Bryer: the Flowers you must renew every Week; but the Moss will last all the Summer, till it will be time to make a fire; and the Orpan will last near two Months. A Chimney thus done doth grace a Room exceedingly."

One phrase in the above should particularly recommend it to such of your female readers, as, in the nice language of the day, have done growing some time: "little toad stools, &c. and any thing that is _old and pretty_." Was ever antiquity so smoothed over? The culinary recipes have nothing remarkable in them, besides the costliness of them. Every thing (to the meanest meats) is sopped in claret, steeped in claret, basted with claret, as if claret were as cheap as ditch water. I remember Bacon recommends opening a turf or two in your garden-walks, and pouring into each a bottle of claret, to recreate the sense of smelling, being no less grateful than beneficial. We hope the chancellor of the exchequer will attend to this in his next reduction of French wines, that we may once more water our gardens with right Bordeaux. The medical recipes are as whimsical as they are cruel. Our ancestors were not at all effeminate on this head. Modern sentimentalists would shrink at a c.o.c.k plucked and bruised in a mortar alive, to make a cullis; or a live mole baked in an oven (_be sure it be alive_) to make a powder for consumption.--But the whimsicalest of all are the directions to servants--(for this little book is a compendium of all duties,)--the footman is seriously admonished not to stand lolling against his master's chair, while he waits at table; for "to lean on a Chair when they wait, is a particular favour shown to any superior Servant, as the Chief Gentleman, or the Waiting Woman when she rises from the Table." Also he must not "hold the Plates before his mouth to be defiled with his Breath, nor touch them on the right (inner) side." Surely Swift must have seen this little treatise.

C. L.

Hannah concludes with the following address, by which the self-estimate which she formed of her usefulness, may be calculated:--

_Ladies_, I hope you're pleas'd, and so shall I, If what I've Writ, you may be gainers by: If not; it is your fault, it is not mine, Your benefit in this I do design.

Much labour and much time it hath me cost, Therefore I beg, let none of it be lost.

The Mony you shall pay for this my Book, You'l not repent of, when in it you look.

No more at present to you I shall say, But wish you all the happiness I may.

H. W.

VIII.--REMINISCENCE OF SIR JEFFERY DUNSTAN

(1826)

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book_

To your account of sir Jeffery Dunstan in columns 829-30 (where, by an unfortunate Erratum the effigies of _two Sir Jefferys_ appear, when the uppermost figure is clearly meant for sir Harry Dimsdale) you may add, that the writer of this has frequently met him in his latter days, about 1790 or 1791, returning in an evening, after his long day's itinerancy, to his domicile--a wretched shed in the most beggarly purlieu of Bethnal Green, a little on this side the Mile-end Turnpike. The lower figure in that leaf most correctly describes his then appearance, except that no graphic art can convey an idea of the general squalor of it, and of his bag (his constant concomitant) in particular. Whether it contained "old wigs" at that time I know not, but it seemed a fitter repository for bones s.n.a.t.c.hed out of kennels, than for any part of a Gentleman's dress even at second hand.