If they travelled at home, they set off to note down prodigies. Dr. Plott, in a magnificent project of journeying through England, for the advantage of “Learning and Trade,” and the discovery of “Antiquities and other Curiosities,” for which he solicited the royal aid which Leland enjoyed, among other notable designs, discriminates a class thus: “Next I shall inquire of animals; and first of strange people.”—“Strange accidents that attend corporations or families, as that the deans of Rochester ever since the foundation by turns have died deans and bishops; the bird with a white breast that haunts the family of Oxenham near Exeter just before the death of any of that family; the bodies of trees that are seen to swim in a pool near Brereton in Cheshire, a certain warning to the heir of that honourable family to prepare for the next world.” And such remarkables as “Number of children, such as the Lady Temple, who before she died saw seven hundred descended from her.”[203] This fellow of the Royal Society, who lived nearly to 1700, was requested to give an edition of Pliny: we have lost the benefit of a most copious commentary! Bishop Hall went to “the Spa.” The wood about that place was haunted not only by “freebooters, but by wolves and witches; although these last are ofttimes but one.” They were called loups-garoux; and the Greeks, it seems, knew them by the name of λυκάνθρωποι, men-wolves: witches that have put on the shapes of those cruel beasts. “We sawe a boy there, whose half-face was devoured by one of them near the village; yet so, as that the eare was rather cut than bitten off.” Rumour had spread that the boy had had half his face devoured; when it was examined, it turned out that his ear had only been scratched! However, there can be no doubt of the existence of “witch-wolves;” for Hall saw at Limburgh “one of those miscreants executed, who confessed on the wheel to have devoured two-and-forty children in that form.” They would probably have found it difficult to have summoned the mothers who had lost the children. But observe our philosopher’s reasoning: “It would aske a large volume to scan this problem of lycanthropy.” He had laboriously collected all the evidence, and had added his arguments: the result offers a curious instance of acute reasoning on a wrong principle.[204]
Men of science and art then passed their days in a bustle of the marvellous. I will furnish a specimen of philosophical correspondence in a letter to old John Aubrey. The writer betrays the versatility of his curiosity by very opposite discoveries. “My hands are so full of work that I have no time to transcribe for Dr. Henry More an account of the Barnstable apparition—Lord Keeper North would take it kindly from you—give a sight of this letter from Barnstable to Dr. Whitchcot.” He had lately heard of a Scotchman who had been carried by fairies into France; but the purpose of his present letter is to communicate other sort of apparitions than the ghost of Barnstable. He had gone to Glastonbury, “to pick up a few berries from the holy thorn which flowered every Christmas day.”[205] The original thorn had been cut down by a military saint in the civil wars; but the trade of the place was not damaged, for they had contrived not to have a single holy thorn, but several, “by grafting and inoculation.”[206] He promises to send these “berries;” but requests Aubrey to inform “that person of quality who had rather have a bush, that it was impossible to get one for him. I am told,” he adds, “that there is a person about Glastonbury who hath a nursery of them, which he sells for a crown a piece,” but they are supposed not to be “of the right kind.”
The main object of this letter is the writer’s “suspicion of gold in this country;” for which he offers three reasons. Tacitus says there was gold in England, and that Agrippa came to a spot where he had a prospect of Ireland—from which place he writes; secondly, that “an honest man” had in this spot found stones from which he had extracted good gold, and that he himself “had seen in the broken stones a clear appearance of gold;” and thirdly, “there is a story which goes by tradition in that part of the country, that in the hill alluded to there was a door into a hole, that when any wanted money they used to go and knock there, that a woman used to appear, and give to such as came.[207] At a time one by greediness or otherwise gave her offence, she flung to the door, and delivered this old saying, still remembered in the country:
| ‘When all the Daws be gone and dead, Then.... Hill shall shine gold red.’ |
My fancy is, that this relates to an ancient family of this name, of which there is now but one man left, and he not likely to have any issue.” These are his three reasons; and some mines have perhaps been opened with no better ones! But let us not imagine that this great naturalist was credulous; for he tells Aubrey that “he thought it was but a monkish tale forged in the abbey so famous in former time; but as I have learned not to despise our forefathers, I question whether this may not refer to some rich mine in the hill, formerly in use, but now lost. I shall shortly request you to discourse with my lord about it, to have advice, &c. In the mean time it will be best to keep all private for his majesty’s service, his lordship’s, and perhaps some private person’s benefit.” But he has also positive evidence: “A mason not long ago coming to the renter of the abbey for a freestone, and sawing it, out came divers pieces of gold of £3 10s. value apiece, of ancient coins. The stone belonged to some chimney-work; the gold was hidden in it, perhaps, when the Dissolution was near.” This last incident of finding coins in a chimney-piece, which he had accounted for very rationally, serves only to confirm his dream, that they were coined out of the gold of the mine in the hill; and he becomes more urgent for “a private search into these mines, which I have, I think, a way to.” In the postscript he adds an account of a well, which by washing, wrought a cure on a person deep in the king’s evil. “I hope you don’t forget your promise to communicate whatever thing you have relating to your Idea.”
This promised Idea of Aubrey may be found in his MSS., under the title of “The Idea of Universal Education.” However whimsical, one would like to see it. Aubrey’s life might furnish a volume of these philosophical dreams: he was a person who from his incessant bustle and insatiable curiosity was called “The Carrier of Conceptions of the Royal Society.” Many pleasant nights were “privately” enjoyed by Aubrey and his correspondent about the “Mine in the Hill;” Ashmole’s manuscripts at Oxford contain a collection of many secrets of the Rosicrucians; one of the completest inventions is “a Recipe how to walk invisible.” Such were the fancies which rocked the children of science in their cradles! and so feeble were the steps of our curious infancy!—But I start in my dreams! dreading the reader may also have fallen asleep!
“Measure is most excellent,” says one of the oracles; “to which also we being in like manner persuaded, O most friendly and pious Asclepiades, here finish”—the dreams at the dawn of philosophy!
[197] Godwin’s amusing Lives of the Necromancers abound in marvellous stories of the supernatural feats of these old students.