This is the merry Month of May,
When as the Fields are fresh and gay;
And in each Place where 'ere you go
Are people walking to and fro.
On every Place you cast your Eye,
Hundreds of people you may Spy,
The Fields bestrewed all about,
Some pacing home, some passing out;
Some woo their Lovers in the Shadows,
Some stragling to and fro the Meadows.
Some of this Chat, some of that Talk,
Some Coacht, some horst, some afoot Walk.
Some by Thames Bank their Pleasure taking,
Some Silabubs 'mong Milkmaids making;
With Musick some on Waters rowing;
Some to the adjoining Towns are going.
To Hogsdon, Islington, Tottenham Court,
For Cakes and Cream is great Resort, &c.
Also each month has its appropriate prose.
'Observations on January. Now a good Fire, and a Glass of brisk Canary is as Comfortable as the thing called Matrimony. Cold Weather makes hungry Stomachs, so that now a piece of powder'd Beef lin'd with Brews,[526] vociferating Veal, and a Neat's Tongue, that never told a Lye, is excellent good food; but to feed on hope, is but a poor Dish of Meat to dine and sup with after a two Days Fast. If thou art minded to go a Wooing this Cold Weather, do it with Discretion, for he that doth make a Goddess of a Puppet, merits no Recompense but mere Contempt.'
Besides these, there was plenty of proverbial philosophy, interspersed with divers merry tales, and eccentric receipts, the whole going to form a compilation perfectly unique for its time.
PARTRIDGE AND BICKERSTAFF.
Perhaps the chief among the serious astrological, and predicting, almanacs was 'Merlinus Liberatus, by John Partridge, Student in Physick and Astrology, at the Blue Ball in Salisbury Street, in the Strand, London.' Not, perhaps, that he would have lived in story, much more than his fellows, had it not been for the fun that Swift, Steele, and Addison made of him. Swift set the ball rolling, in his sham 'Predictions for the year 1708, by Isaac Bickerstaff' (his pseudonym), in which he says: 'My first prediction is but a trifle, and yet I will mention it to show how ignorant those sottish pretenders to astronomy are in their own concerns. It relates to Partridge the Almanack maker. I have consulted the star of his nativity by my own rules, and find he will infallibly die on the 29th of March next, about eleven at night, of a raging fever; therefore, I advise him to consider of it, and settle his affairs in time.' This was a happy thought, born of the fact that Partridge had prophesied the downfall and death of Louis XIV. Early in April 1708 Swift published 'The accomplishment of the first part of Mr. Bickerstaff's predictions, being an account of the death of Mr. Partridge, the Almanac maker, on the 29th of March, 1708, in a letter to a person of honour.'
From that moment Partridge was dead. It was no use his publicly stating that he was alive. The wits had decreed his fate, and dead he was. His elegy and epitaph were printed, in the grisly manner common to those productions. They are too long for reproduction, but are too good not to quote from.
Well, 'tis as Bickerstaff has guest,
Tho' we all took it for a Jest;
Patrige is Dead, nay more, he dy'd
E'er he could prove the good Squire ly'd.
Strange, an Astrologer should Die,
Without one Wonder in the Sky;
Not one of all his Crony Stars,
To pay their Duty at his Hearse!
No Meteor, no Eclipse appear'd!
No Comet with a flaming Beard!
The Sun has rose, and gone to Bed,
Just as if Patrige were not Dead;
Not hid himself behind the Moon,
To make a dreadful Night at Noon:
He at fit Periods walks through Aries,
Howe'er our Earthly Motion varies,
And twice a Year he'll cut th' Æquator,
As if there had been no such Matter.
Some Wits have wondered what Analogy
There is 'twixt Cobling and Astrology;
How Patrige made his Opticks rise
From a Shoe Sole to reach the Skies;
.......
Besides, that slow pac'd Sign Bootes
As 'tis miscall'd, we know not who 'tis;
But Patrige ended all Disputes,
He knew his Trade, and call'd it Boots.
The Horned Moon which heretofore
Upon their Shoes the Romans wore,
Whose wideness kept their Toes from Corns
And whence we claim our Shoeing Horns,
Shews how the Art of Cobling bears
A near Resemblance to the Spheres, &c.
The Epitaph.