Notes and Queries, Number 13, January 26, 1850

As to the identity of the book, Dr. Anster quoted several passages from contemporary authors to test their account of the contents of the "album" with those of the book he was describing. In the Harleian Miscellany, vol. vi. p.323., it is stated in Sir John Reresby's memoirs, that "out of his [Monmouth's] pocket were taken books, in his own handwriting, containing charms or spells to open the doors of a prison, to obviate the danger of being wounded in battle, together with songs and prayers." Barillon describes the book in what is nearly a translation of this—"Il y avoit des secrets de magie et d'enchantment, avec des chansons des recettes pour des maladies et des prieres." Again, in a note by Lord Dartmouth to the modern editions of Burnet's Own Times, we have the following statement:—

"My uncle Colonel William Legge, who went in the coach with him [Monmouth] to London as a guard, with orders to stab him if there were any disorders on the road, showed me several charms that were tied about him when he was taken, and his table-book, which was full of astrological figures that nobody could understand; but he told my uncle that they had been given to him some years before in Scotland, and he now found they were but foolish conceits."

The actual contents of the manuscript volume show a great resemblance to these descriptions. The most curious passages which it contains are the duke's memorandums of his journey on two visits to the Prince of Orange, in the year previous to his last rash adventure. His movements up to the 14th of March, 1684-85, are given. The entries do not seem to be of much moment; but they may accidentally confirm or disprove some disputed points of history. There is an entry without a date, describing the stages of a journey in England, commencing with London and Hampstead: it ends with Toddington. This forms a strong link in the chain of identity; for Toddington is a place remarkable in the history of the duke. Near it was the residence of Lady Henrietta Maria Wentworth, baroness (in her own right) of Nettlestead, only daughter and heir of Thomas Lord Wentworth, grandchild and heir of the Earl of Cleveland. Five years before the execution, her mother observed that, despite the duke being a married man, her daughter had, while at court, attracted his admiration, and she hurried her away to Toddington. In 1683, after the failure of the Rye-House Plot, Monmouth was banished from the royal presence, and it was to Toddington he retired. When, on retracting the confession he had made on the occasion, he was banished the kingdom, the companion of his exile was Lady Henrietta Wentworth.

"I dwell on this," said Dr. Anster, "because the accidental mention of Toddington seems to authenticate the book: the name of Lady Henrietta Wentworth does not occur in it, and the persons in whose hands the book has been since it was purchased in Paris do not seem to have noticed the name of Toddington, or to have known that it had any peculiar relation to the duke's history. It occurs twice in the book—once in the itinerary, and again in a trifling and unmetrical song, which is probably the duke's own composition; written probably on the eve of his flight with his romantic but guilty companion to Holland:—

"'With joy we leave thee,
False world, and do forgive
All thy false treachery.
For now we'll happy live.
We'll to our bowers,
And there spend our hours;
Happy there we'll be,
We no strifes can see;
No quarrelling for crowns,
Nor fear the great one's frowns;
Nor slavery of state,
Nor changes in our fate.
From plots this place is free,
There we'll ever be;
We'll sit and bless our stars
That from the noise of wars
Did this glorious place give
(Or did us Toddington give)
That thus we happy live.'"

In Macaulay's history we find that the latest act of the duke on the scaffold, before submitting to the stroke of the executioner, was to call his servant, and put into the man's hand a toothpick-case, the last token of ill-starred love. "Give it," he said, "to that person!" After the description of Monmouth's burial occurs the following affecting passage:—

"Yet a few months and the quiet village of Toddington, in Bedfordshire, witnessed a yet sadder funeral. Near that village stood an ancient and stately hall, the seat of the Wentworths. The transept of the parish church had long been their burial-place. To that burial-place, in the spring which followed the death of Monmouth, was borne the coffin of the young Baroness Wentworth of Nettlestead. Her family reared a sumptuous mausoleum over her remains; but a less costly memorial of her was long contemplated with far deeper interest: her name, carved by the hand of him she loved too well, was, a few years ago, still discernible on a tree in the adjoining park."

In further proof of identity, Dr. Anster pointed out several charms and recipes which the manuscript volume contains. The conjurations are in general for the purpose of learning the results of sickness in any particular case, and of determining whether friends will be in certain circumstances faithful. There are also incantations for the use of several maladies, and one to make gray hair grow black. No "charms against being wounded in battle," such are Sir John Reresby mentions, are to be found in the volume; but there are some prayers against violent death, which have the appearance of having been transcribed from some devotional book. There is evidently a mistake in supposing that this book contains any charm for breaking open prison doors, and it is likely that Sir John Reresby was misled in this way:—There is in p. 7. a charm in French to procure repose of body and mind, and deliverance from pains; and the word for "pains" is written in a contracted form; it might as well stand for prisons; but, examining the context, it is plainly the former word which is meant.

The rest of the entries consist of extracts from old recipe-books, mixed in the oddest way with abridgements of English history, and the most trifling memorandums, chiefly of a private and personal kind. Altogether, this commonplace work is highly indicative of the weakness, vanity, and superstition which stood forward so prominently in the character of the rash but unfortunate Duke of Monmouth.

QUERIES

CATHERINE PEGGE

Mr. Cunningham was mistaken in supposing that I had overlooked Catherine Pegge, for I was well aware that she could not have been Pepys's "pretty Lady." She must, in fact, have attained her fortieth year, and there is no record of her being on the stage; whereas Margaret Hughes had, when Pepys saluted her, recently joined the Theatre Royal, and she is expressly styled "Peg Hughes" by Tom Browne, in one of his "Letters from the Dead to the Living." Having disposed of this question, I am tempted to add that Morant does not confirm the statement that Catherine Pegge married Sir Edward Green, for he says that

"Sir Edward Greene, created a Baronet, 26 July, 1660, was seated at Little Sampford in Essex; he had 3 wives, the first was Jeronyma, daughter and coheir of William Everard, of Linsted, Esq., and by her he had 6 daughters; by Mary, daughter of – Tasborough, he had a son; and by the third lady –, daughter of – Simonds, he had a daughter. He was the last of the Greenes that enjoyed this estate, having lost it by gaming."—Morant's Essex, vol. ii. p. 525.

This account of the Greene family is stated in a note to have been taken from a fine pedigree on vellum, penes T. Wotton, Gent.

If Catherine Pegge was one the three ladies mentioned above, she must have changed her name previously to her marriage, in hopes of concealing her former history; but the circumstance of the baronetcy being conferred upon Sir Edward is very suspicious. Probably some of your correspondents can settle the question.

    BRAYBROOKE.

Audley End, Jan. 19. 1850.

WILLIAM BASSE, AND HIS POEMS

Can any of your readers inform me where a perfect or imperfect copy is to be found of a poem, of which I possess only a single half sheet, under the following title:—

"Great Brittaines Sunnes-set, bewailed with a Shower of Teares. By William Basse. At Oxford, Printed by Ioseph Barnes. 1613"?

It is one of the many poems published on the death of Prince Henry; and although I have been in search of it, or of a fragment of it, for more than twenty years, I have never been able to obtain tidings of more than of that small portion in my possession; nor am I aware of the mention of it in any bibliographical authority. I have not at hand Sir H. Nicolas's edition of Walton's Angler, in which Basse is spoken of, but I remember looking at that beautiful and costly work a long time ago, and, as far as I recollect, not finding in it anything to my purpose. I observe that a William Basse (or Bas, as the name is there spelt) printed in 1602, 4to., a tract called Sword and Buckler, or Serving Man's Defence; but I know no more of it than that it was sold in Steevens's sale; and among the MSS. of the late Mr. Heber was a volume of poems called Polyhymnia, apparently prepared for the press, and dedicated by William Basse to Lady Lindsey, which contained an "Elegie on a rare Singing Bull-finch," dated 19th June, 1648; so that he was still living nearly half a century after he had printed his earliest known performance.

The production that Izaac Walton refers to must be the ballad preserved in the Pepys Collection at Cambridge, under the heading "Maister Basse his Careere, or the new Hunting of the Hare. To a new Court tune;" and beginning—

"Long ere the morne expects the returne."

It was "Printed at London by E.A.," i.e. Edward Allde, without date; and it may have been duly noticed by the last editor of The Complete Angler. However, neither this nor Heber's MS. throw any new light upon the small tract (in 8vo., and of perhaps not more than two sheets) with the title of which I commenced, and regarding which I request information. It is a poem in eight-line stanzas, and it is dedicated, at the back of the title-page, "To his honourable Master, Sir Richard Wenman, Knight," without another word addressed to his patron.

My fragment of four leaves, or half an 8vo. sheet, contains stanzas (one on each page), numbered 5, 6, 7, 8. 13, 14.; and the earliest of them is this:—

"To you I therefore weepe: To you alone
I shew the image of your teares, in mine;
That mine (by shewing your teares) may be show'n
To be like yours, so faithfull so divine:
Such as more make the publique woe their owne,
Then their woe publique, such as not confine
Themselves to times, nor yet forms from examples borrow:
Where losse is infinit, there boundlesse is the sorrow."

I have preserved even the printer's punctuation, for the sake of more perfect identification, if any of your readers are acquainted with the existence of a copy of the production, or of any portion of it. The above stanza, being numbered "5," of course it was preceded by four others, of which I can give no account. Another stanza, from this literary and bibliographical rarity, may not be unacceptable; it is the eighth—

"Here then run forth thou River of my woes
In cease lesse currents of complaining verse:
Here weepe (young Muse) while elder pens compose
More solemne Rites unto his sacread Hearse.
And, as when happy earth did, here, enclose
His heavn'ly minde, his Fame then Heav'n did pierce.
Now He in Heav'n doth rest, now let his Fame earth fill;
So, both him then posses'd: so both possesse him still."

Therefore, although Basse had written his Sword and Buckler in 1602 (if it were the same man), he still called his Muse "young" in 1613. I cannot call to mind any precedent for the form of stanza adopted by him, consisting, as it does, of six ten- syllable lines, rhyming alternately, followed by a twelve-syllable couplet. None of the other stanzas contain personal matter; the grief of the author of Great Britain's Sun's-set seems as artificial as might be expected; and his tears were probably brought to the surface by the usual pecuniary force-pump.

I have some notion that William Basse was a musical composer, as well as a writer of verses; but here, again, I am at fault, and particularly request the aid of Dr. Rimbault, who has paid special attention to such matters, and who has just published a learned and valuable work on the music of the ballads in Percy's Reliques. If the volume were not so indisputably excellent in its kind, there are reasons, connected with its dedication, which might make me hesitate in giving it even a just tribute of praise.

    J. PAYNE COLLIER.

Kensington, Jan. 21. 1850.

MINOR QUERIES

Christmas Hymn.—Can any of your readers inform me who was the author of the well-known Christmas Hymn, "Hark the Herald Angels sing," which is so often found (of course without the slightest shadow of authority), at the end of our Prayer-Books? In the collection of poems entitled Christmas Tyde, published by Pickering, the initials "J.C.W." are appended to it; the same in Bickersteth's Hymn Book. In the last number of the Christian Remembrancer, it is incorrectly attributed to Doddridge, who was the author of the other Christmas Hymn, "High let us swell our tuneful notes," frequently appended to Tate and Brady; as well as of the Sacramental Hymn, "My God and is Thy table spread?" If the author of this hymn cannot be determined, it would be interesting to know its probable date, and the time when this and the other unauthorised additions were made to our Prayer-Book. The case of Doddridge's hymn is more remarkable, as being the composition of a dissenter.