Notes and Queries, Number 67, February 8, 1851

    Nocab.

Blunder.—What is the origin of this word? In Woolston's First Discourse on Miracles (Lond. 1729), at p 28., I find this passage:—

"In another place he intimates what are meant by oxen and sheep, viz., the literal sense of the Scriptures. And if the literal sense be irrational and nonsensical, the metaphor we must allow to be proper, inasmuch as nowadays dull and foolish and absurd stuff we call Bulls, Fatlings, and Blunders."

This would seem to imply that in Woolston's days blunder was the name of some animal; but in no dictionary have I been able to find such a signification attributed to it. The Germans use the words bock and pudel in the same sense as our word blunder.

    C. W. G.

Prince of Wales' Feathers.—The establishment of "De Navorscher" is a matter of great importance to all students of our early history, and the liberal mention of its projectors, to bring under the notice of their countrymen all Queries likely to be answered by them, is one calculated to clear up many obscure points in our early history. Sir H. Nicolas concludes his valuable papers on the Badge and Mottoes of the Prince of Wales (Archæologia, vol. xxxi. p. 372.) by expressing his belief that both the former, namely, the Feathers, and the mottoes, "Ich Dien" and "Houmout," were derived from the House of Hainault, possibly from the Comté of Ostrevant, which formed the appanage of the eldest sons of the Counts of that province. Perhaps I may be allowed, through your columns, to invite the attention of the correspondents of "De Navorscher" to this point.

    Effessa.

Portrait of Ben Jonson.—Ritson, the well-known antiquary, possessed an original painting of Ben Jonson. It was afterwards purchased by W. Fillingham, Esq., of the Inner Temple, a gentleman well known for his love of the early drama; and whilst in his possession it was engraved by Ridley in 8vo. What has become of the painting? Can any of your readers point out its locality at the present time?

    Edward F. Rimbault.

Robert Burton, otherwise Democritus Junior, the author of that glorious book The Anatomy of Melancholy, is stated by Wood to have been born at Lindley, in Leicestershire. Plot, however, in his Natural History of Staffordshire, 1686, p.276., gives the place of his birth, Fald, in the latter county; and, furthermore, says he was shown the very house of his nativity. Can any of your correspondents throw any light upon this subject?

    Edward F. Rimbault.

Blowen, Origin of the Name.—You have fallen into a very general error in spelling my name (pp. 71. 76.) with the terminal r, "Blower," instead of "Blowen." Perhaps some one of your genealogical readers can inform me of the origin and descendants of the family with this scarce name, thus spelt, "Blowen." Are we a branch of the Blowers (as you appear to think we must be), that useful family of alarmists, whose services in early times were so necessary? or are we the descendants of the Flanders "Boleyns," Anglicanized "Bloyen?"

Query, Did Anna Boleyn, wife of Henry VIII., ever spell her name so? I need not to be reminded that some lexicographers define "Blowen" to be a rude woman. Query, origin of that appellation, so used?

We have been citizens and liverymen of London from Richard Blowen, who married, at the close of the seventeenth century, the sister of Dr. Hugh Boulter (who became chaplain to George I., and afterwards Lord Archbishop of Armagh).

    Blowen.

Replies

TOUCHSTONE'S DIAL

(Vol. ii., p. 405.; vol. iii., p. 52.)

How is it that Mr. Knight, who so well and so judiciously exposes the absurdness of attempting to measure out a poet's imaginings by rule-and-compass probability, should himself endeavour to embody and identify Touchstone's dial—an ideal image—a mere peg on which to hang the fool's sapient moralizing.

Surely, whether it was a real moving animated pocket watch, that was present to the poet's mind, or a thumb ring dial, is an inquiry quite as bootless as the geographical existence of a sea-coast in Bohemia, or of lions and serpents in the forest of Ardennes.

When Thaliard engages to take away the life of Pericles if he can get him within his "pistol's length," are we seriously to inquire whether the weapon was an Italian dagger or an English firearm? or are we to debate which of the interpretations would be the lesser anachronism?

But your correspondents (Vol. ii., p. 405. and vol. iii., p. 52.) approve of, and confirm Mr. Knight's suggestion of a ring dial, as though it were so self-evident as to admit of no denial. Nevertheless, neither he nor they have shown any good reason for its adoption: even its superior antiquity over the portable time-piece is mere surmise on their parts, unaccompanied as yet by any direct proof. In point of fact, the sole argument advanced by Mr. Knight why Touchstone's dial should be a ring dial is, that "it was not likely that the fool would have a pocket watch." Well, but it might belong to Celia, carried away with the "jewels and wealth" she speaks of, and, on account of the unwieldy size of watches in those days, intrusted to the porterage of the able-bodied fool.

When Touchstone said, so very wisely, "It is ten o'clock," he used a phrase which, according to Orlando in the same play, could only properly apply to a mechanical time-piece. Rosalind asks Orlando, "I pray you what is it a clock?" to which he replies, "You should ask me what time o' day; there's no clock in the forest." Again, when Jacques declares that he did laugh "an hour by his dial," do we not immediately recall Falstaff's similar phrase, "an hour by Shrewsbury clock?"

If it shall be said that the word "dial" is more used in reference to a natural than to a mechanical indicator of time, I should point, in reply, to Hotspur's allusion:

"Tho' life did ride upon a dial's point
Still ending with the arrival of an hour"

The "dial's point," so referred to, must be in motion, and is therefore the hand or pointer of a mechanical clock.

A further confirmation that the Shakspearian "dial" was a piece of mechanism may be seen in Lafeu's reply to Bertram, when he exclaims,

"Then my dial goes not true,"

using it as a metaphor to imply that his judgment must have been deceived.

These are some of the considerations that would induce me to reject Mr. Knight's interpretation, and, were it necessary to realize the scene between Jacques and Touchstone at all, I should prefer doing so by imagining some old turnip-faced atrocity in clock-making presented to the fool's lack-lustre eye, than the nice astronomical observation supposed by Mr. Knight.

The ring-dial, as described by him, and by your correspondents, is likewise described in most of the encyclopædias. It is available for the latitude of construction only, and was no doubt common enough a hundred years ago; but it is scarcely an object as yet for deposit in the British Museum.

    A. E. B.

Leeds, Jan. 28. 1851.

The Ring Dial, perhaps the most elegant in principle of all the forms of sun dial, has not, I think, fallen into greater disuse than have sun dials of other constructions. To describe, in this place, a modern ring dial, and the method of using it, would be useless: because it is an instrument which may be so readily inspected in the shops of most of the London opticians. Messrs. Troughton and Simms, of Fleet Street, make ring dials to a pattern of about six inches in diameter, costing, in a case, 2l. 5s. They are, in truth, elegant and instructive astronomical toys, to say the least of them; and indicate the solar time to the accuracy of about two minutes, when the sun is pretty high.

Formerly, ring dials were made of a larger diameter, with much costly graduation bestowed upon them; too heavy to be portable, and too expensive for the occasion. For example, at the apartments of the Royal Astronomical Society, at Somerset House, a ring dial, eighteen inches in diameter, may be seen, constructed by Abraham Sharp, contemporary and correspondent of Newton and Flamstead; one similar to which, hazarding a guess, I should say, could not be made under 100l. At the same place also may be seen, belonging to Mr. Williams, the assistant-secretary of the society, a very handsome oriental astrolabe, about four inches in diameter, richly chased with Arabic characters and symbols; to which instrument, as well as to modern ring dials, the ring dials described in "Notes and Queries" (Vol. iii., p. 52.) seem to bear relation. If I recollect right, in one of the tales of the Arabian Nights, the barber goes out, leaving his customer half shaved, to take an observation with his astrolabe, to ascertain if he were operating in a lucky hour. By his astrolabe, therefore, the barber could find the time of day; this, however, I confess I could not pretend to find with the astrolabe in question. Ring dials, as I am informed, are in demand to go out to India, where they are in use among surveyors and military men; and, no doubt, such instruments as the astrolabe above-mentioned, which, though pretty old, does not pretend to be an antique, are in use among the educated of the natives all over the East.

    Robert Snow.

I send you the particulars of two brass ring dials, seeing they are claiming some notice from your learned correspondents, and having recently bought them of a dealer in old metals.

7-16ths of an inch wide, 1 and 7-16ths over,

3-8ths wide, and 1½ over,

    J. Clarke.

Easton, Jan. 27. 1851.

WINIFREDA

(Vol. ii., p. 519. Vol. iii., p. 27.)

Subjoined is a brief notice of the various printed forms in which the old song called "Winifreda" has, from time to time, been brought before the public. I am indebted for these particulars to a kind friend in the British Museum, but we have hitherto failed in discovering the author.

1. The song first occurs as a translation from the ancient British language in D. Lewis's Collection of Miscellaneous Poems, 8vo. 1726, vol. i., p. 53., pointed out by your correspondent, Mr. Hickson. (Vol. ii., p. 519.)

2ndly. In Watts' Musical Miscellany, vol. vi., p. 198. Lond. 1731; it is with the tune, "Eveillez vous ma belle Endormie," and is called "Winifreda, from the ancient language."

3dly. As an engraved song entitled "Colin's Address;" the words by the Earl of Chesterfield, set by W. Yates, 1752. The air begins "Away, &c."

4thly. In 1755, 8vo., appeared Letters concerning Taste, anonymously, but by John Gilbert Cooper; in Letter XIV. pp. 95, 96, he says,—

"It was not in my power then to amuse you with any poetry of my own composition, I shall now take the liberty to send you, without any apology, an old song wrote above a hundred years ago by the happy bridegroom himself."