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SINGULAR ANECDOTES.

During the extreme distresses to which Louis Duke of Anjou was reduced, in his unfortunate expedition against Naples, he dispatched the Signeur de Craon into France, to procure a supply of money; but this Nobleman after having raised a considerable sum, instead of carrying it to his master, squandered it at Venice, in entertainments and courtezans. On his return to Paris, the Duke of Berry accused him as the author of his brother's death; and having afterwards committed assassination in the streets, he was obliged to take shelter in the Bretagne, where the Duke received and protected him. Charles (the Sixth King of France) instigated by his Ministers, demanded the criminal; and on the Duke's refusal, prepared to seize him by force. He set out in person, at the head of a considerable army. As he con tinued his march through a forest, between Mans and La Blecke, in the day-time, a tall man, black, and hideous, came from among the trees, and seizing his horse's bridle, cried out, "Arrete Roi! ou vas tue? Tu es trahi,"-then disappeared. The King, however, pursued his journey, in defiance of this denunciation; when a second accident, purely casual, produced on him effects the most violent and unhappy. It was in the month of August, and the heats were insupportable. A page, who carried the King's lance, being fallen asleep on his horse, let it fall upon a helmet which another bore before him; the noise which this caused, the sight of the lance, and the words of the phantom returning all at once to the King's imagination, he thought they were going to deliver him to his enemies, and this apprehension working strongly on his senses, produced an instant fit of madness. He drew his sword, and striking furiously at all those about him, killed and wounded several, before any one had force or address enough to save him; they effected it at last. The King, spent with his efforts, fell into a sort of lethargic swoon, and in this condition they carried him, tied down in a cart, to the City of Mans.-The story of the man in the wood, appears, at first sight, so apparently fictitious, that one should certainly be induced to treat as such, if superadded to the universal testimony of the cotemporary writers, some of them did not give us reason to believe that the Duke of Burgundy set on foot this engine. He was the strict ally of the Duke of Bretagne; he had strongly opposed the King's march; he was become un

necessary and powerless. Charles had only just recovered from a fever at Amiens, in which he had given some symptoms of a disordered understanding, which the phantom and fright were extremely calculated, in that superstitious and barbarous age, to frighten into frenzy.

This miserable Princess (Charles the Fifth's mother) finished her life before the Emperor's abdication. She survived: her husband Arch Duke Philip, forty-nine years, and was above seventy at her own disease. Her attachment to him, and his untimely death, chiefly contributed to deprive her of her intellects. She was shut up in the Castle of Torde,, sillas, almost abandoned, sleeping upon straw, which she sometimes wanted. Her only recreation was.to fight with cats, and to crawl upon the tapestry with which her apartments were hung. Such was the lamentable destiny of Ferdinand and Isabella's daughter; of the mother of two Emperors and four Queens.

"TO THE ARTIFICIAL ROSE,"

Respectfully inscribed to Miss Harriet B

BY T. W.

Let others love, and worship paltry gold

1

The source from whence man's greatest evils flows,

While I with joy thy crimson hue's behold

And all enraptur'd love my blushing Rose..

The Amusing Chronicle is published at No. 6, Gilbert's Passage, Portugal, Street, and served at the houses of the subscribers, in the same manner as newspapers and magazines.

G. Stobbs, Printer, Catherine Street,Strand.

AMUSING CHRONICLE,

A Weekly Repository for MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE.

No. XVIII.) January 18, 1817.

(Vol. II.

Price only Four Pence.

SHROVE TUESDAY; or a PANCAKE DAY in LONDON,

AN ANCIENT CUSTOM,

And when Bow-Bell became the signal of its Celebration,
BY THOMAS NICHOLLS, P.M.

Stifle not honest rapture in the birth,
Life is lengthen'd by the aid of mirth.

To Matthew Wood, Esq. twice Lord Mayor of London.

WHILE fools and sycophants to fortune rise,
By means disgusting to the good and wise,
The sage, to whom I dedicate my song,
Disdains their crimes, and all the servile throng;
Prudence and honour still direct his ways,
And love of Country wins his Country's praise.
If bright examples strengthen virtue's plan,
Here one presents, honest WooD's the man,
Twice Lord of London, by the Liv'ry's choice,
And ten times twice enthron'd by ev'ry voice.

Rais'd by your merits from an humble state,
The greatest honour 'mongst the gifts of fate,
My vivid pencil all thy merits drew,
And here I consecrate the draught to you :
If from your duties free, and trading care,
And calmly seated in your elbow chair,
No upstart coxcomb by, to give offence
With idle prattle, or impertinence;

Printed by T. Kaygill, 36, Frith-Street, Soho.

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Unfold my pages, and awhile attend,
The moral measures of an early friend,
Who (thro' the lapse of time perhaps forgot)
At distance views, and glories in your lot.

Of Simon Eyre I sing, how he began,
'Till like yourself, a worthy Alderman;
Of Shrovetide fare I sing, (a rich repast)
And how the custom came so long to last,
Of more beside, but (brevity to choose)
Observe the sequel, and respect the Muse;
So shall thine aldermanic friends admire,
And fill the Civic chair with all thy fire,
Upheld by Justice, mount on Mercy's wings,
And serve like Wood, the People and the King.

SHROVE TUESDAY;

Or, Pancake-Day in London.

YE lads of London, by indenture bound,
To serve your master's lawfully and true;
'Till seven long years have roll'd their orbits round,
And freedom holds her easy cap for you.

Attend a while a fellow 'prentice sings,

Not in high strains like tuneful Pope or Prior
Too great for him, the ways of Courts and Kings,
His theme is Pancakes, which you all admire.

;

And who shall dare to scorn his sav'ry lays?

A greater bard could once of puddings sing;

He who long wore Apollo's verdant bays,

That friend to pies and pancakes*, DOCTOR KING.

Hail glorious fare! I've seen the stripling stand,
Expectant, as his dame the pancake fries;

Noting the motions of her skilful hand,

Dew on his lips, and rapture in his eyes.

* William King, LL.D. of Christ Church College, Oxon :— Art of making Puddings.

See his

Who their efficient qualities can doubt ?

Speak you who've felt them glowing in the breast;
With all their charms to swell the stomach out,
And soothe the craving appetite to rest.

Hail Shrove-tide! which lads of London know,
Methinks my fellows, come and hark! they say;
"Dost thou not hear the +Pancake Bell at Bow?
Leave, leave thy labours Tom, and come away."
Blest may he be who bade the custom rise,

Not like the vain from motives low and rude ;
But from the source that virtue's self supplies,
From worth, too seldom found, from GRATITUDE!
The tale's worth hearing, you may learn from hence,
Come give attention while the truth I tell;
A moral waits for you, ye men of sense,

Then learn the story of the Pancake-Bell.

In days of yore, 'ere London's mighty town

Could boast ten thousand aqueducts of health;
When Bourns and Conduits + rolled their treasures down,
And water-bearers turn'd their streams to wealth.

This custom reign'd among the sons of trade,
Augusta's Chronicle the same will tell;
Each morn their master's tankards they convey'd,
To fill with water at the nearest well.

To Crowder's Conduit, (may it ever flow)!
Its healing current once gave health to me;
Of old, it made the crippled limb to go,

Renerv'd the arm, and taught the blind to see.

To Crowder's Conduit many a 'prentice came,
More than at other Wells were ever known;
Because the waters bore so high a name,
That other Wards preferr'd it to their own.

Among the rest an humble lad unskill'd,

One Simon Eyre, a poor Cordwainer's boy;
One Shrove-tide morn, when all their cans were fill'd,
Went to eat Pancakes, and give loose to joy.

At the first sound of the Bow-Bell on Shrove Tuesday, the London Apprentices claim the ancient custom of quitting their Employment to feast on Pancakes, as will presently appear.

Before the London Bridge Water Works were invented, many industrious persons maintained their families by supplying the Public from Bourns and Conduits with that element, &c.

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