University of Virginia Library

An expression of sailors to signify that a man has gone to sleep.

Mr. Quincy is I understand a famous prophet, the Richard Brothers of the Eastern States of America, and their oracle in the Congress of the United States. The speech to which Sir Bolus alludes is full of prophetic denunciations, uttered, as I am told, with all the fury of a sybil, but without her inspiration it would seem. Like the unhappy Cassandra, he appears to be for ever prophesying, without ever having the good fortune to be believed. Cassandra, however, was always revenged on the incredulity of mankind by the fulfillment of her predictions; whereas, it is I understand observed of this honourable gentleman, that he has neither the pleasure of being believed when he tells of futurity, nor the melancholy consolation of being justified by the event.

I remember he predicted the ruin of that country, if the bank of the United States was refused a renewal of its charter, and many of my friends on that event taking place, in great consternation wrote to America, to dispose of their public stock, supposing that an immediate dissolution of the confederacy would ensue. Indeed from a observation of his speeches for sometime past, it will appear that there was hardly any measure of a national nature, that did not loom before his prophetic vision, as the sad precursor of the ruin of the country. Yet it would seem that country, like an obstinante patient, whom some prophetic quack had foredoomed to death, still wickedly and indecorously survives, in spite of the Doctor's own potent endeavours to the contrary; a monument of his incapacity either to foretell, or to bring about his own predictions. For most assuredly it appears, from the view which we on this side the water are enabled to take of American affairs, that if the Union of the States is not speedily dissolved, it will not be owing to any want of exertion on the part of Mr. Quincy or his friends.

The proof here adduced by Sir Bolus of the existence of French influence is certainly one of the strongest that I have seen, and I really do not perceive how the American government can get over it. There can be no stronger proof of our regard for a friend, than that of naming our offspring after him, and certainly the naming of a town, is, if possible, a more striking proof of devotion. Being ignorant of the existence of these two places, Havre de Grace, and French town, I had hitherto supposed this charge of French influence against the American President, had no foundation. But I now without hesitation, coincide with Mr. Quincy, Lord Castlereagh, the Prince Regent, and other distinguished persons. So far should the President be from complaining, that I think he ought to be highly obliged to Sir Cockburn, for destroying such glaring proofs of his apostacy from the true interests of his country.

Sir Bolus is here jocular upon the letter of Sir Beresford, giving a pompous account of the walls of Lewistown, which at some future period will most likely be equally celebrated with these of ancient Troy, for having some Bully Hector, like the redoubted Knight, dragged by the heels round them. As the valour of the English seems altogether predicated of roast-beef, I think the Americans are in the right to keep them from procuring it, as much as possible; in which care they will in all probability be able to prevent their making any impression upon that country. The only satisfactory reason why an English sailor beats a Frenchman, is that the former eats roast-beef, when he can get it and the latter, soup, which is much more likely to make a man run away than fight.

There can be no greater proof of the truth of this theory, than the events which have taken place on the Ocean, since the commencement of the present contest with America. It is a singular fact, which has hitherto escaped the sages who have attempted to account for the unexpected results of our late Naval engagements, that they all took place on what is called Banyan Days; that is, those particular days of the week set apart for the special eating of soup. That this, and not any small superiority of force, or any physical superiority in the men, or any superior excitement on the part of the enemy, “nor any over anxiety on our part to come to close quarters,” was the true cause of our repeated disasters, on our “own element,” I think cannot be doubted. In order to avoid such repeated disgrace in future, it would be advisable, either to strike the Banyan days out of the nautical calendar, or else always to make a point of coming to action some other day in the week.

I cannot positively say that Childe Cockburn had a red nose, but there are several reasons to suppose so. Dugdale in his account of the illustrious families of the British peerage, affirms, that the Cockburns were anciently called Cock, from their being such fighting fellows; and that the burn was afterwards added on account of one of them having distinguished himself, by burning several cottages and haystacks in a border-foray. Others say, that this addition was expressly given in honour of the red nose, which was hereditary in this family, and that Bardolph himself was one of the Cockburns, who were, as Shakespeare says, celebrated for “carrying a lantern in the poop.” That Sir Cockburn, who inherits the hereditary taste for burning, should also have succeeded to the red nose, is extremely probable, and I have accordingly directed that he should hoist his lantern, without further ceremony.

In the dearth of Sirnames, which characterised those remote times, the colour of the nose often became of common use, to distinguish different individuals of the same name, different families, and different factious from each other. The most celebrated instance of this sort is the feud between the houses of York and Lancaster; and the most singular instance of historical blundering, I have ever known, is connected with this circumstance. All the historians I have met with, agree in saying that the badges of distinction between the two rival houses, were the red and the white rose; whereas, the late Lord Orford has, or at least could have demonstrated, that the true reading ought to be the red and the white nose. Under these two noses, all the people of England marshalled themselves; and the Cockburns, who were of course distinguished red-noseans, signalized themselves in various burning expeditions. Hence originated the different titles of Admiral of the red, and Admiral of the white, which were first need to distinguish the fleets of Lancaster and York from each other. The custom is still kept up, but the reasons, as usual, have been lost. Childe Cockburn, as may be inferred from his nose, is a distinguished admiral of the red.

Those who are in the least intimate with ancient history, must occasionally have been not a little amused with the origin of most of the sirnames of the distinguished personages of Grecian and Roman, as well as of the early European history. Passing over Pericles, the Ptolomies, and the host of Pharaohs, I will merely mention the kings of France and England. There was Philip the fair, Lewis the gross, and Charles the fat, of France; Edward the confessor, Edmund Ironside, and Edward Longshanks, of England, besides a thousand others.

It would be no unamusing speculation, to inquire what sirnames would suit some of the present notable race of monarchs, provided they were bestowed with a due regard to their distinguishing qualities of mind and body, or their peculiar habits and tastes—or lastly, their peculiar situations. Alexander might be called the Accoucheurer, or Deliverer—Napoleon, in addition to his sirname of Great, might have that of Sinner appended—Frederick might probably be called Lackland; Jerome, the Bigamist—Don Carlos, the Fiddler—Gustavus, the Double, because, as Joe Miller says, be is a man beside himself —and honest King George is fully entitled to the sirname of Well meaning. The rest, though they are such an obscure set of rogues, that I really dont recollect their names, yet doubtless have sufficient character to entitle them to a nickname at least. Having mentioned nicknames, it may not be amiss to observe that they probably had their origin in the waggery of mischievous boys; and because they were not sanctioned by any of the usual ceremonies of the church, were called Nick-names, in honour of Old-Nick, who was supposed to stand godfather on these occasions.

I have made an allusion to the phœnix, in order to introduce a little bit of secret history, which puts an end to all the race, past, present, and to come. I beg pardon of the poets, who like this bird better than any other, except perhaps a roasted turkey, for thus depriving them of one great source of their similies; but as my object is, if possible, to knock on the head all the thread-bare classical supersititions, I cannot let the phœnix live another hour, on any account.

According to the Abbe Mariti, who travelled into the Holy Land, the palm-tree is by way of eminence called, over all the east, the phœnix, because of its numerous uses, insomuch, that Palestine could hardly be inhabited without it. When the palm-tree grows old, it is cut down, and the stump burnt to ashes; from which ashes springs a young palm-tree; in other words, a young phœnix. Thus ends the history of that rare bird the phœnix, which though not admitted in the catalogue of ornithology, has made a great noise in the world, and given its name to a variety of institutions, such as the Phœnix Fire Office, the Phœnix Insurance Company, and others, who ought immediately to change the phœnix for the palm-tree.

The knight called out lustily for roast beef, at Lewistown; but to use a homely phrase, “got his belly full” of something else, and was fain to go eastward, where the pious puritans, who go beyond the scriptures in “loving their enemies” better than their friends, probably supplied him plentifully.