DR. PARTRIDGE, ASTROLOGER, PHYSICIAN TO HIS MAJESTY, ETC.
In the same age lived another noteworthy man, whose connection with the gentle craft was much more intimate, and, indeed, of almost life-long duration. This man was an astrologer, and blended with his study of the subtle influences of the stars over human affairs the study of medicine. What relation there is between these two things it were hard to tell; but certain it is, that for many years men who were not otherwise fools and knaves believed in this relation; and, combining the two “professions,” found very often that success in the one gave them a certain prestige in the other. A lucky hit in “casting the nativity” of a notable person, brought the “astrologer and physician” endless patients and no small fortune. Probably an appointment as physician to the king was due to no better cause; and, with such an appointment, of course the practitioner’s position was secure for life. This seems to have been pretty much the case with John Partridge, who is spoken of as a shoemaker in Covent Garden in 1680, and in 1682 is styled physician to His Majesty Charles II. Here is a case, then, of a cobbler who ventured ultra crepidam to some purpose, and who might very well have taken James Lackington’s motto for his own.[120] Partridge, it must be allowed, was a scholar of no mean attainments, whatever he may have been as a physician, and his scholarship was self-acquired. During his apprenticeship to a shoemaker he began the study of Latin with a copy of Lilye’s Grammar, Gouldman’s Dictionary, Ovid’s Metamorphoses, and a Latin Bible. Having got a sufficient knowledge of Latin to read astrological works, he betook himself to the study of Greek and Hebrew. Then came physic, with the grand result of royal patronage. Partridge was a considerable author or editor, and the list of his works shows the strong bent of his mind toward the occult science. He published a “Hebrew Calendar” for 1678; “Vade Mecum,” 1679; “Ecclesilegia, an Almanac,” 1679; the same for 1680; “The King of France’s Nativity;“ ”A Discourse of Two Moons;“ ”Mercurius Cœlestis,” being an almanac for 1681; “Prodomus, a Discourse on the Conjunction of Saturn and Mars;“ ”The Black Life of John Gadbury,” in which a brother astrologer is roundly abused; and shown to be, as a matter of course, a rogue and impostor; and a “Translation of Hadrianus a Mynsicht’s Treasury of Physic,” 1682.
The inscription over Partridge’s tomb is in Latin, as becomes the memorial of so learned a man and so eminent a physician! The visitor to the churchyard of Mortlake in Surrey may still learn—if the great destroyer has dealt gently with the record—how
Johannes Partridge, Astrologus
et Medicinæ Doctor,
was born at East Sheen, in Surrey, on the 18th January, 1644, and died in London, 24th June, 1715; how he made medicine for two kings and one queen, Carolo scilicet Secundo, Willielmo Tertio, Reginæque Mariæ; and how the Dutch University of Leyden conferred on him the diploma Medicinæ Doctor.
Partridge seems to have given his ms. of the “Conjunction of Saturn and Mars” to Elias Ashmole, who presented it in 1682, with other curiosities, to the University of Oxford, where it may still be seen in the Ashmolean Museum.[121]
Partridge is alluded to in Pope’s “Rape of the Lock,” where the poet speaks of Belinda’s “wavy curl,” which has been stolen and placed among the stars—
“This Partridge soon shall view in cloudless skies,
When next he looks through Galileo’s eyes;
And hence the egregious wizard shall foredoom
The fate of Louis and the fall of Rome.”
“What sacrifices,” says the author of “The Book of Days,” “would many a sage or poet have made to be connected through all time with Pope and the charming Belinda! Yet here, in this case, we find the almanac-making shoemaker enjoying a companionship and a celebrity for qualities which, morally, have no virtue or endurance in them, but quite the reverse.” Swift, whose satire stung many an abuse to death, made endless fun of Partridge and his absurd prophecies based on astrology. In 1708 Swift published a burlesque almanac containing “predictions for the year,” etc., etc., the first of which was about Partridge himself. Fancy the astrologer’s feelings when he read the following awful announcement:—“I have consulted the star of his nativity by my own rules, and find he will infallibly die on the 29th of March next of a raging fever; therefore I advise him to consider it and settle his affairs in time!”
After the 29th of March was past, Partridge positively took the trouble to inform the public that he was not dead! This he did in his almanac for 1709. Whereupon the cruel Dean took the matter up again and tried to show Partridge his error. He was dead, argues Swift, if he did but know it; but then there is no accounting for some men’s ignorance! He says, “I have in another place and in a paper by itself sufficiently convinced this man that he is dead; and if he has any shame, I don’t doubt but that by this time he owns it to all his acquaintance.”[122] Not content with this, Swift wrote an “Elegy on the supposed Death of Partridge, the Almanac-maker,” and wound up the painful business by writing his epitaph too.
THE EPITAPH.
“Here, five foot deep, lies, on his back,
A cobbler, starmonger, and quack,
Who to the stars, in pure good-will,
Does to his best look upward still.
Weep, all ye customers, that use
His pills, or almanacs, or shoes;
And you that did your fortunes seek,
Step to his grave but once a week.
This earth, which bears his body’s print,
You’ll find has so much virtue in’t,
That I durst pawn my ear ’twill tell
Whate’er concerns you full as well,
In physic, stolen goods, or love,
As he himself could when above.”