“This is truly somewhat ‘in Ercles’ vein,’” continued the old gentleman, as he finished the Sonnet; “but I think you will agree with me that it is completely ‘out-heroded’ by Howel’s imitation of it; as, indeed, his Latinity is vastly inferior to Sannazario’s. I really cannot imagine, how some have supposed that Howel’s Latin verses were written by the Italian; but this grievous mistake has been made, in consequence, perhaps, of the words ‘ad instar,’—after the manner of,—being overlooked. The original poem you may read and criticise at your leisure, but his well-known English translation runs thus.
“‘When Neptune from his billows London spyde,
Brought proudly hither by a high spring-tyde;
As through a floating wood he steer’d along,
And dancing castles cluster’d in a throng;—
When he beheld a mighty Bridge give law
Unto his surges, and their fury awe;—
When such a shelf of cataracts did roar,
As if the Thames with Nile had changed her shore;—
When he such massy walls, such tow’rs did eye,
Such posts, such irons, upon his back to lye;—
When such vast arches he observed, that might
Nineteen Rialtos make, for depth and height;—
When the Cerulean God these things survay’d,
He shook his trident, and astonished said,
Let the whole Earth now all her wonders count,
This Bridge of wonders is the paramount!’
“I cannot imagine, Mr. Barbican, why the ‘Londinopolis,’ in which these verses are printed, should ever be quoted in preference to Stow’s ‘Survey,’ from which it is little more than a transcript, as Howel himself acknowledges in his Advertisement. I should mention, however, that it contains two fine prints, for which it is, perhaps, chiefly desirable: one consisting of a very spirited whole-length portrait of the author, resting against a tree, and executed in that singular style for which Claude Mellan was so famous; and the other an interesting half-sheet etching by Hollar, of London, before the Great Fire. With these embellishments, and its own popularity, the volume sells for about £1. 11s. 6d.; but a fine impression of the latter engraving alone will produce the sum of 10s. 6d. From this work, then, at page 22, we learn that the destruction occasioned by the ‘most raging dismal fire’ of 1633, was not wholly repaired at the time of its publication; for, after stating that it consumed a third part of the buildings on the Bridge, it is added, ‘by the commendable care of the City, there are other goodly structures rais’d up in some of their rooms, of a stronger, and more stately way of building; and pity it is, that the work were not compleated, there being no object,—after the Church of St. Paul,—that can conduce more to the glory and ornament of this renowned City.’ Yet, notwithstanding this Author’s praises of ‘the Bridge of the World,’ as he calls it, on page 20, he makes us acquainted with what may be considered as an ancient satire upon it; since he says, ‘If London Bridge had fewer eyes, it would see far better.’ The arches of this edifice, and the dangerous passage through them, have also given rise to another quaint saying, which is recorded in the Rev. J. Ray’s ‘Compleat Collection of English Proverbs,’ London, 1737, octavo, pages 13 and 251, and which is, ‘London Bridge was made for wise men to go over, and fools to go under.’
“On Tuesday, the 29th of May, 1660, King Charles the Second entered London in triumph, after having been magnificently entertained in St. George’s Fields. About three in the afternoon he arrived in Southwark, and thence proceeded over the Bridge into the City, attended by all the glory of London, and the military forces of the kingdom. Lord Clarendon, who makes this ‘fair return of banished Majesty’ the concluding scene of his noble History, gives us but little information as to the King’s reception at London Bridge, though we learn from him that ‘the crowd was so great, that the King rode in a crowd from the Bridge to Whitehall; all the Companies of the City standing in order on both sides, and giving loud thanks to God for his Majesty’s presence. ‘All the streets’—says White Kennet, Bishop of Peterborough, in his ‘Historical Register of English Affairs,’ London, 1744, folio, page 163,—‘were richly adorned with tapestry, from London Bridge to Whitehall;’ and beyond Temple-bar, were lined with the Trained bands, and a troop of the late King’s Officers, headed by the loyal Sir John Stawell. The procession, which was chiefly an equestrian one, was begun by Major-General Brown, and 300 Citizens in cloth of silver doublets; who were followed by 1200 more all in velvet, with footmen and liveries in purple. Alderman Robinson then led other parties habited in buff coats with sleeves of silver tissue, and green silk scarfs; some in blue liveries with silver lace; and footmen and trumpeters in sea-green, grey, and silver liveries. Eighty of the Sheriffs’ followers attended in red cloaks lined with silver, holding half-pikes; and 600 of the City Companies rode in black velvet coats and gold chains, with their respective servitors in cassocks and ribbands. Drums, trumpets, streamers, and the Life-guards, in satin, scarlet, and silver, followed; then came the City Marshal, with 8 footmen in French green, trimmed with crimson and white; whilst the City Waits and Officers, the Sheriffs, the Aldermen, and their attendants, blazed in red, and cloths of gold and silver in the next rank. Heralds and Maces, in their splendid habits, preceded Sir Thomas Allen, the Lord Mayor; who, to gratify the City, was permitted to carry the Sword of London immediately before the King, which had not been done in any former public entry, excepting when Charles I. returned from Scotland in 1641, and even then the Sword of State had the precedence.
“I have next to mention a very rare and curious pamphlet, never yet cited in the history of London Bridge, of a Vision seen upon that edifice in March, 1661. It is contained in Article 6, No. 867, of that invaluable collection of Tracts which the late King presented to the British Museum. Like most of the wonderful pamphlets of the seventeenth century, its title is truly astounding, but the book itself is only a small quarto of four leaves; of which, as all that now concerns us is contained in three pages, I shall give you the whole, and first for the magnificent Title-page.
“‘Strange News from the West, being a true and perfect account of several Miraculous Sights seen in the Air Westward, on Thursday last, being the 21 day of this present March, by divers persons of credit standing on London Bridge between 7 and 8 of the clock at night. Two great Armies marching forth of two clouds, and encountring each other; but, after a sharp dispute, they suddenly vanished. Also, some remarkable Sights that were seen to issue forth of a cloud that seemed like a mountain, in the shapes of a Bull, a Bear, a Lyon, and an Elephant with a Castle on his back, and the manner how they all vanished. London, Printed for J. Jones, 1661.’ Such is the entry into this exhibition of wonders; the tract itself commences thus.
“‘An exact relation of severall strange wonders, that were seen on Thursday last, by several persons then on London Bridge, appearing in the West of England.—Apparent hath been many signs and wonders made to us here in England, whereby the incredulous have been convinc’d of their obstinacy. It being a great question, and doubtfull now with the generality of people, whether those things lately published which appeared in foreign parts were feasible or no, they have since been verified by other credible persons from those parts, to the great satisfaction of some hundreds: therefore I shall forbear mentioning them, and give you an exact account of what hath lately been visible to divers persons now resident in the City of London, which was as followeth, viz.
“‘Upon the 21 day of March, about, or between 7 and 8 of the clock at night, divers persons living in the City—as they came over London Bridge,—discovered several clouds in strange shapes, at which they suddenly made a stand, to see what might be the event of so miraculous a change in the motion of the Heavens. The first cloud seemed to turn into the form or shape of a Cathedral, with a Tower advancing from the middle of it upwards, which continued for a small space and then vanished away. Another turned into a tree, spreading itself like an oak,—as near as could be judged,—which, in a short space, vanished. Between these two was, as it were, standing, a great mountain, which continued in the same form near a quarter of an hour; after which, the mountain still remaining, there appeared several strange shapes one after another, issuing out of the said mountain, about the middle of the right side thereof: the first seemed to be formed like a Crokedile, with his mouth wide open; this continued a very short space, and, by degrees, was transformed into the form of a furious Bull; and, not long after, it was changed into the form of a Lyon; but it continued so a short time, and was altered into a Bear, and, soon after, into a Hog, or Boar, as near as those could guess who were spectators. After all these shapes had appeared, the mountain seemed to be divided and altered into the form of two monstrous beasts, fastened together by the hinder parts, drawing one apart from the other: that which appeared on the left hand, resembled an Elephant with a castle upon his back; that upon the right hand, we could not so well determine, but it seemed to us like a Lyon or some such like beast.
“‘The Castle on the back of the Elephant vanished, the Elephant himself loosing his shape; and, where the Castle stood, there rose up a small number of men, as we judged, about some four or six: these were in continual motion. The other beast, which was beheld on the right hand, seemed to be altered into the form of an Horse, with a rider on his back, and, after a small proportion of time, the whole vanished, falling downward. Then arose another great cloud, and in small time it formed it selfe into the likenesse of the head of a great Whale, the mouth of which stood wide open. After this, at some distance on the right hand, appeared a cloud, which became like unto a head, or cap, with a horn, or ear, on each side thereof, which was of very considerable length. Between these two rose a few men, who moved up and down with a swift motion; and immediately after they all vanished except one man, who still continued moving up and down with much state and majesty. In the mean time arose near adjacent unto this head, or cap, another cloud, out of which cloud issued forth an Army, or great body of men; and upon the left hand, arose another Army, each of which marched one towards the other; about this time the single man vanished away,—and the two Armies seemed to approach very near each other, and encounter, maintaining a combat one against the other, and, after a short contest, all vanished. During all this time there seemed, to our best apprehension, a flame of fire along the Strand, towards the City of London.’ Such is the notice of these ‘strange sights,’ as they are truly called; but, though I do not cite them, the remaining two pages of the pamphlet are filled with an account of some much stranger seen in Hamburgh, in the preceding February: and now that I have finished, Mr. Barbican, pray what do you think of it?”
“What do I think of it?” returned I: “Why, as Captain Ironside says in the Play, ‘that it’s a lie, to be sure!’ You very well know, Mr. Postern, that a great part of the seventeenth century was quite an age for seeing wonders in the air: for they were continually being exhibited to all sorts and conditions of men; whilst, ever and anon, came forth a pamphlet full of marvel and trumpery, detailing the last revelation, occasionally ornamented ‘with a type of the vision curiously engraven on copper.’ You may remember how the Author of ‘The History of the Great Plague,’ tells you that he was in some danger from a crowd in St. Giles’s, because he could not discern an Angel in the air holding a drawn sword in his hand. Believe me, good Mr. Barnaby, such visions are extremely rare; and, when they do appear, they come not in the uncertain forms of that which you have now referred to. Minds of more weakness than piety gave a ready faith to them, and in convulsed or sorrowful times, were often hearing voices which spake not, and seeing signs which were never visible: willing to deceive, or be deceived, they saw, like Polonius, clouds ‘backed like an ousel,’ or, ‘very like a whale;’