The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 20, No. 576, November 17, 1832

W.G.C.

POOR LAWS

Before the Reformation there were no Poor Rates; the charitable dole given at the Religious Houses, and church-ale in every parish did the business. In every parish there was a church house, to which belonged spits, pots, crocks, &c. for dressing provision. Here the housekeepers met and were merry, and gave their charity. The young people met there too, and had dancing and bowling, shooting at butts, &c. A. Wood says there were few or no alms-houses before Henry VIII. In every church and large inn was a poor man's box.—From Aubrey's MSS. Collections.

It should be recollected that the present mode of assessment for the relief of the poor in England, was not adopted till every other mode had been tried. Before the dissolution of the religious houses, temp. Henry VIII., paupers were licensed to beg within certain limits (22nd. Henry VIII., chap. 12.) and magistrates were authorized to receive and support them, coming to the places of their birth, by voluntary and charitable alms, and a method was prescribed for collecting those alms. In the reign of Edward VI., laws were passed for enforcing charitable voluntary contributions (5th and 6th Edw. VI., chap. 2.) Persons refusing to give according to their means were to be admonished; first by the minister, and then by the bishop. These provisions were found insufficient, and it was enacted early in the reign of Elizabeth, that if the parties were insensible to the clerical and episcopal admonitions, they should be bound over by the minister or bishop to the quarter sessions; where they were again to be admonished; and if they remained refractory, the justices and churchwardens were to assess them according to their discretion. (5th Eliz. chap. 3.) In the 14th year of her reign the act was passed and provision made for regular assessments, and the appointment of overseers provided for; which the subsequent acts of the 18th, 39th, and 43rd of the same reign completed, and which has still remained.

ERNLE CRASHAW.

Near Weymouth.

THE NATURALIST

ANIMAL INSTINCT: ANECDOTE OF A TAME SNAKE

(To the Editor.)

The following remarkable circumstance clearly proves how foreign to children, is the fear or even the idea of danger; and, at the same time, it presents to the contemplative mind a striking instance of the wisdom which the Almighty has displayed in the works of the creation! In what a wonderful manner has he endowed all his creatures with sensibility, regulated their habits, and provided for their wants; and so ingeniously are the animal and vegetable kingdoms arranged, that the former is, in a great measure, dependent on the latter for nourishment and support.

From the study of Nature may be deduced a most valuable lesson: namely, to think nothing that exists on the face of the globe unworthy of our attention and notice: and were we to confine ourselves to the practice of this excellent maxim, we should not rest satisfied, until we had obtained a complete insight into the economy and habits of such curious objects.

A labouring man residing near the White Cross, (about a mile westward of the city of Hereford,) and occupying a cottage belonging to Thomas Webb, Esq. of that place, in the month of May last, repeatedly observed one of his children (a little girl not eighteen months old,) reserving at meal-time a part of her allowance of food, and carrying it invariably to one particular corner of the house. Curiosity induced the father to watch more minutely the proceedings of the child, and great was his astonishment, when on the girl as usual repairing to the spot, and making a noise something similar to the chirping of a bird, a snake appeared out of a hole in the wall, and fearlessly partook of the repast provided for it by its infantine attendant.

Such a circumstance is very uncommon, though not unprecedented; for that indefatigable naturalist, Gilbert White, mentions a tame snake in his meritorious Natural History of Selborne. The greater degree of surprise must be attributed to the case itself, that a child so young should have the courage to approach an animal of the reptile order; but it serves only to corroborate the statement previously made:—children are destitute of fear, and consequently have no dread of danger.

In a former number (549) of The Mirror, appeared a paper headed "The Habits of the Common Snake," purported to be extracted from the Magazine of Natural History. The doctrine enforced by the writer of this article, as regards the impracticability of domesticating a snake, has been proved entirely erroneous by the fact recited; and were there no positive instance adduced to the contrary, it does not follow that, because his effort, were ineffectual, such a thing is utterly impossible; indeed, I think, the failure of his project may be dated from the means to which he resorted for its accomplishment. The snake we know is naturally very timid, and shuns even the society of its fellow-creatures; and consequently, must have a great dread of the presence of human beings. Then why, in the name of sense, did he suffer it to be handled by children; and what vessel could he have found worse adapted to his purpose than one composed of glass, in which the movements of its inmate were subjected to the continual gaze of bystanders? He may, perhaps, consider his plan a good one, and bring the case I have mentioned to support his argument, as the snake was tamed by the same means he himself had partially adopted; but it is totally different. Much more may be effected by the agency of one little child, than by the assistance of a number of older and consequently more unmanageable beings. One would suppose, by his attempting to "charm it" with music, that he put unlimited belief in the fables of old; but, alas! the poor creature had heard enough of nursery strains to render it deaf to the beauties of softer melody. The language with which he concludes his remarks is as unjust as it is uncalled for, and such as none but an illiberal and narrow-minded observer would, choose to apply to so beautiful a creature.⁴ Even the cat⁵ (the most ravenous domestic animal we have,) has been known, when confined, to permit mice to pass unmolested through the cage in which it was imprisoned; then why should he expect that an animal which (as he asserts) can live upwards of thirty days without food, would put itself so far out of its way as to gratify an idle spectator, by devouring in his presence, frogs, mice, and other such "delicacies of the season," when neither inclination, nor the wants of nature, stimulated it to the task.

PHILAETHES.

Hereford.

THE BUSTARD

 
The Bustard, huge Rasor, with gular pouch long,
With legs formed for running, and beak that is strong,
Whose presence this island regards now as rare.
 

Jennings's Ornithologia.

This bird is of the same order as the Dodo (the gallinaceous, cock or pheasant), figured and described at page 311. There are seventeen species, which form the genus Otis of Linnaeus. They are natives of Europe, Asia, and Africa. Their characteristics are—bill strong, a little incurvated; toes, three before, none behind; legs long, and naked above the knees. The specimen here figured is the Great Bustard, or Tarda, said to be the largest of British birds, sometimes weighing as much as thirty pounds. It is found in some parts of this country, and inhabits also the open plains of Europe, Asia, and Africa. Its colour is wave-spotted with black, and rufous; beneath, white; length, four feet; female not so large, weighing about twelve pounds: she has also different shades of colour. The male has a long pouch, (see the Cut), beginning under the tongue, and reaching to the breast, capable of holding several quarts of water—supposed to be for supplying the hen while sitting on the young. The cheek-feathers are elongated, so as to form on each side a sort of mustachio. It subsists on grains and herbs; it also feeds on worms and insects, and according to late observations, on rats and field-mice;⁶ is solitary, shy, and timid; flies heavily, but runs swiftly; is quick of sight and hearing; lays two, pale, olive-brown eggs, with darker spots, in a hole scraped in the ground. In autumn Bustards are gregarious, when they leave the open downs for more sheltered situations. The eggs are eagerly sought after, for the purpose of hatching under hens: they have been reared thus in Wiltshire. As they are very valuable birds, and eagerly sought after, they are scarce. Mr. Jennings doubts whether they still exist in Wiltshire; but, from a paper lately read before the Linnaean Society, by Messrs. Sheppard and Whitear, it appears that Bustards now breed in the open parts of Suffolk and Norfolk: they have, too, been domesticated by Mr. Hardy, of Norwich.⁷ Mr. Jennings, in a note to the lines above quoted, observes, "There were formerly great flocks of Bustards in this country, upon the wastes and in woods, where they were hunted by greyhounds, and easily taken. They have been latterly recommended to be bred as domestic fowls; and, to those who desire novelty, the Bustard seems to be peculiarly an object for propagation. The flesh is delicious; and it is supposed that good feeding and domestication might stimulate them to lay more eggs." We were aware that the Bustard was formerly eaten, and remember their mention among the delicacies of chivalric feasts, and in the bills of fare at civic banquets: probably, they are on the Guildhall table at the moment we are writing—on Lord Mayor's Day.

The Great Bustard.

Among the other species of Bustards are the Little, or Field, and the thick-kneed, Stone-curlew, or Norfolk Plover. There are also some fine species in India, where they are generally in pairs, but sometimes in families of four and five: as they do not fly high, they are sometimes pursued on horseback, and fired at with pistols. A young hen makes a particularly fine dish at table: the flesh of the breast is full of triangular cavities.⁸ The Bustard accordingly bears a high price in the Indian markets: in some districts it is called the florikan.

The Bustard is stated to have been known to descend suddenly from its flight, and from some unknown caprice, to attack a horse and its rider with great violence; and with such blind fury as to suffer itself to be seized by the traveller rather than attempt an escape. Two instances of this kind are recorded in the Gentleman's Magazine of about the year 1807.