Monument at Lucerne, designed by Thorwaldsen

Monument at Lucerne, designed by Thorwaldsen,
To the Memory of the Swiss Guards who were massacred at the Tuilleries, on the Tenth of August, 1792.

The [engraving] above is executed from a clay figure, modelled by a Swiss artist from the original. It was obligingly sent to the editor, for the present purpose, by the gentleman to whom it belongs. The model was presented to him by a friend, who, in answer to his inquiries on the subject, wrote him a letter, of which the following is an extract:—

“The Terra Incognita you mention comes from Lucerne, in Switzerland, and is the model of a colossal work, cut in the solid rock, close to that city, on the grounds of general Pfyffer. It is from a design furnished by Thorwaldsen, which is shown close by. The ‘L’envoi,’ as don Armado calls it, is as follows:—‘The Helvetian lion, even in death, protects the lilies of France.’ The monument was executed by the Swiss, in memory of their countrymen, who were massacred, on the 10th of August, at the Tuilleries, in defending Louis XVI. from the sans culottes. The names of those who perished are engraved beneath the lion.”

The particulars of the dreadful slaughter, wherein these helpless victims fell, while defending the palace and the person of the unfortunate monarch, are recorded in different works within the reach of every person who desires to be acquainted with the frightful details. About sixty who were not killed at the moment, were taken prisoners, and conducted to the town-hall of the commons of Paris, for summary trial: but the ferocious females who mingled in the mobs of those terrifying times, rushed in bodies to the place, with cries of vengeance, and the unhappy men were delivered up to their fury, and every individual was murdered on the spot.

Garrick Plays.
No. VI.

[From the “Chaste Maid in Cheapside,” a Comedy, by Thomas Middleton, 1620.]

Citizen to a Knight complimenting his Daughter.

Pish, stop your words, good Knight, ’twill make her blush else,
Which are wound too high for the Daughters of the Freedom;
Honour, and Faithful Servant! they are compliments
For the worthy Ladies of White Hall or Greenwich;
Ev’n plain, sufficient, subsidy words serve us, Sir.

Master Allwit (a Wittol) describes his contentment.

I am like a man
Finding a table furnish’d to his hand,
(As mine is still for me), prays for the Founder,
Bless the Right worshipful, the good Founder’s life:
I thank him, he[67] has maintain’d my house these ten years;
Not only keeps my Wife, but he keeps me.
He gets me all my children, and pays the nurse
Weekly or monthly, puts me to nothing,
Rent, nor Church dues, not so much as the Scavenger;
The happiest state that ever man was born to.
I walk out in a morning, come to breakfast,
Find excellent cheer, a good fire in winter;
Look in my coal-house, about Midsummer eve,
That’s full, five or six chaldron new laid up;
Look in my back yard, I shall find a steeple
Made up with Kentish faggots, which o’erlooks
The water-house and the windmills. I say nothing,
But smile, and pin the door. When she lies in,
(As now she’s even upon the point of grunting),
A Lady lies not in like her; there’s her imbossings,
Embroiderings, spanglings, and I know not what,
As if she lay with all the gaudy shops
In Gresham’s Burse about her; then her restoratives,
Able to set up a young ’Pothecary,
And richly store the Foreman of a Drug shop;
Her sugars by whole loaves, her wines by rundlets,
I see these things, but like a happy man
I pay for none at all, yet fools think it mine;
I have the name, and in his gold I shine:
And where some merchants would in soul kiss hell,
To buy a paradise for their wives, and dye
Their conscience in the blood of prodigal heirs,
To deck their Night-piece; yet, all this being done,
Eaten with jealousy to the inmost bone;
These torments stand I freed of. I am as clear
From jealousy of a wife, as from the charge.
O two miraculous blessings! ’tis the Knight,
Has ta’en that labour quite out of my hands.
I may sit still, and play; he’s jealous for me,
Watches her steps, sets spies. I live at ease.
He has both the cost and torment; when the string
Of his heart frets, I feed fat, laugh, or sing.

*******

I’ll go bid Gossips[68] presently myself,
That’s all the work I’ll do; nor need I stir,
But that it is my pleasure to walk forth
And air myself a little; I am tyed
To nothing in this business; what I do
Is merely recreation, not constraint.

Rescue from Bailiffs by the Watermen.

——I had been taken by eight Serjeants,
But for the honest Watermen, I am bound to ’em.
They are the most requiteful’st people living;
For, as they get their means by Gentlemen,
They’re still the forward’st to help Gentlemen.
You heard how one ’scaped out of the Blackfriars[69]
But a while since from two or three varlets,
Came into the house with all their rapiers drawn,
As if they’d dance the sword-dance on the stage,
With candles in their hands, like Chandlers’ Ghosts!
Whilst the poor Gentleman, so pursued and banded,
Was by an honest pair of oars safe landed.

[From “London Chanticleers,” a rude Sketch of a Play, printed 1659, but evidently much older.]

Song in praise of Ale.

1.

Submit, Bunch of Grapes,
To the strong Barley ear;
The weak Wine no longer
The laurel shall wear.

2.

Sack, and all drinks else,
Desist from the strife;
Ale’s the only Aqua Vitæ,
And liquor of life.

3.

Then come, my boon fellows,
Let’s drink it around;
It keeps us from grave,
Though it lays us on ground.

4.

Ale’s a Physician,
No Mountebank Bragger;
Can cure the chill Ague,
Though it be with the Stagger.

5.

Ale’s a strong Wrestler,
Flings all it hath met;
And makes the ground slippery,
Though it be not wet.

6.

Ale is both Ceres,
And good Neptune too;
Ale’s froth was the sea,
From which Venus grew.

7.

Ale is immortal;
And be there no stops
In bonny lads’ quaffing,
Can live without hops.[70]

8.

Then come, my boon fellows,
Let’s drink it around;
It keeps us from grave,
Though it lays us on ground.

C. L.

[67] A rich old Knight, who keeps Allwit’s Wife.

[68] To his Wife’s Lying-in.

[69] Alsatia, I presume.

[70] The original distinction of Beer from the old Drink of our Forefathers, which was made without that ingredient.