Towards the latter end of the seventeenth century, an entertainment was instituted, on the 22d of November, in commemoration of her, by many of the first rank in the kingdom; which was continued annually for a considerable time A splendid entertainment was provided at Stationers'-hall, which was constantly preceded by a performance of vocal and instrumental music, by the most capital performers. This feast is represented by Mr. Motteux, in 1691, as 66 one of the teelest in the world; there are no formalgenities nor gatherings like as at others, and the appearance there is splendid." The words, which were always an encomium on their patroness, were set by Purcell, Blow, and others of the greatest eminence; and it became the fashion for writers of all ranks to celebrate saint Cecilia. Besides the odes to her by Dryden, and Pope, Addison, and Yalden, employed their talents on this subject. We have also odes to saint Cecilia by Shadwell, D'Urfey, and some still more indifferent poets. It appears by Mr. Motteux, that there were in 1691" admirable concerts in Charles-street and York-buildings." On the anniversary of St. Cecilia, in 1697, a sermon was preached at St. Butler's Chronological Exercises. Bride's church by Dr. Brady, which he published under the title of “Church Music Vindicated." The last account discovered by Mr. Nichols, of any entertainment to her memory at Stationers'. hall, is in Mr. Hughes's ode in 1703. celebrated at Oxford, and to have been The festivity appears to have been also continued there longer. There are two odes Mr. Purcell, the other, in 1708, by Dr. to St. Cecilia; one, in 1707, composed by Blow, " both performed at St. Mary-hall, in Oxon, by Mr. Saunders and Mr. Court, assisted by the best voices and bands." Mr. Addison's ode was performed there date, on the same occasion.* in 1699; and he has "a song," without CECILIAN SOCIETY. To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.` The "Cecilian Society," established in 1785 by a few individuals, has continued, to the present day, to meet once a week for rehearsal, and once a fortnight for the public performance of vocal and instrumental music, chiefly sacred, by Handel, occasionally relieved by popular modern composition. This society has been the school of eminent composers and performers: such as Barthelomon, Everett, Purkis, Banner, Busby, Griffin, Russel, Miss Bolton, Jacobs, Miss Gray, and many others; among whom are the brothers, the Mr. Nightingales, so highly esteemed in the musical world for their professional talent, and irreproachable demeanour. The The venerable president, Mr. Z. Vincent, is one of the old school of harmonists, and a man of letters. His heart and soul are identified in Handel's oratorios, ard his judgment continues unimpaired. A Mr. Edwards is another instance of attachment to the society, he having been a member upwards of twenty years. great "unity" that has prevailed, and still prevails, in this society, is an example worthy of a niche in the Every-Day Book Their present performances are held at the "Albion Hall," Moorfields, and well attended by the issue of "tickets." In honour of this day, a grand miscellaneous concert is annually performed; many cele brated professionals attend, and the lovers of harmony never fail of having a high treat. Nichols's Sel. Coll, of Poems. Benjamin Mayo is believed to be the proper name of the "General," his other appellations he derived from having been the ringleader of the boys, from his youth to the present time, on all occasions for which they assemble together in the town of Nottingham. In order to secure the boundaries of the town, a certain number of respectable characters, annually appointed, form what is called the Middleton, Mickleton, or Leet Jury, and circumambulate them twice a year, with the coroner at their head; it is also the duty of this jury to break down all obstructions in old roads, to fine those persons who may have made such encroachments as do not immediately obstruct a public road, and to present all nuisances at the quarter sessions." 99# At the Easter and Michaelmas quarter sessions, the day for these duties is always appointed to be the Monday se'nnight following; and hence it is called Middleton Monday. The name of " Middleton is said to be retained from lord Middleton," who is steward of the Peveril Court, which has now no jurisdiction in Nottingham, it being a town-county. The origin of these matters, however, is of little consequence in an account of the "General;" they are only referred to as preparatory to the observation, that he is a conspicuous personage in the ceremonial of the day. On "Middleton Monday" all the school-boys in the town expect a holyday; it is the juvenile Saturnalia; and though the "General" is great on all occasions, he is especially so on "Middleton Monday;" for compared with him, the mayor, the coroner, and other municipal authorities, are subordinate officers in the estimation of the youthful tribes. Previous to the jury commencing their survey, away trots "General," with several hundreds of boys at his heels, to secure the sacred and inviolable right of a holyday. Two or three urchins, with shining, morning faces, lead the way to their own schoolmaster's, who, in violation of the "orders of the day," is seated amidst the few children whose parents have refused to grant a holyday, and therefore dare not " play travant." Some "devoted Decius" in miniature, ventures in, on the forlorn hope of procuring liberty for the rest. Down drop books, • Blackner's History of Nottingham. pens, pencils, to the increasing cry of Out, out, out." The commander-inchief arrives, amidst the cheers of his enthusiastic and devoted troops, takes up his position opposite to the door, and commands the onset. The advanced guard assail the portal with redoubled blows of their pocket-handkerchiefs, and old rope-ends, knotted into tommies, and the main body throw the missile mud. Ere long, a random stone breaks some window; this is speedily followed by a second and third crash; out sallies the master to seize the culprit, his sentinels are overpowered, the invaders rush in, the besieged are unmercifully belaboured till the capitulation is completed, but no sooner do they join the "liberating army," than a shout of triumph is raised, and the place is abandoned. The aide-decamps having reported to "the General," what other fortresses hold out, the nearest is attacked in the same way. It often appens, however, that a parley is de manded, and "the General" shamelessly receives a bribe to desist. one so devoted to the cause of liberty should be so easily corrupted-twopence will induce the commander-in-chief to withdraw, with his faithful followers, fickle principle, and leave the anxious gar rison to the uncontrolled power of its wily governor. Alas! that Upwards of twenty years ago, opposition to "the General" was rare, but about that period schoolmasters began to learn their strength. One individual successfully resisted during a three hours' siege; the house for years bore marks of the mud with which it was peited; but ever after he was triumphant, though frequently at the expense of an oaken staff, or an ash sapling, broken in repulsing the invaders. After repeated assaults, "the General" deemed this "hold" impregnable, and desisted from his attacks. So many of the disciples of learning being emancipated, or prisoners, as "the General" can liberate or capture, he sets forward with the "surveying council," escorted by his army, to commence the perambulation of the town. If a projecting scraper endanger the shins of the burgesses, it is recorded, and the Middleton jury pass on; but the juvenile admirers of summary and instantaneous justice are for the immediate removal of the offender. Perhaps the good old dame of the house "likes not these new regu lations," and takes up a strong position in its defence, armed with a mop and bucket of water. After a momentous pause, a hardy champion rushes forward to seize the offensive iron, and wrench it from its seat; he retires, overwhelmed and half drowned; hero after hero presses on, and is defeated; till some modern Ajax grapples with the mop, and making a diversion in favour of the assailants, the luckless scraper is borne off in triumph. View "the General" at eleven o'clock, with his forces drawn up in front of the Castle lodge, demanding admittance into the Castle yard-a summons always evaded by the distribution of a quantity of cakes and gingerbread. On "the General's" word of command the precious sweets are thrown, one by one, over the gate, and the confusion of a universal After the whole scramble ensues. is distributed, the popularity of "the General" rapidly wanes; hundreds are reduced to scores, and scores to ones-at noon he is Deserted in his utmost need By those his former bounty fed. In memory, however, of his departed greatness, he never deigns to work for the rest of the day. Before the approach of "Middleton Monday," fifty times a day the important question is put to the General, "When will be Middleton Monday?" Once he said, "I don't know yet, the mayor ha'n't ax'd me what day 'll suit me." On the following Saturday he answered, "The mayor sent his respects to know if I'd let it be Middleton Monday next week; and I sent my respects, and I'd come." Ben Mayo has ever been "null, void, and of no effect," except in his character of "General." He is a harmless idiot, who, during most of his life, has been an inmate of St. Peter's workhouse. He is now nearly fifty years of age. If erect, he would be under the middle size; his stature not being more than four feet nine inches. He is very round-shouldered. His eyes are dark grey, and rather lively; the lower part of his face is no way remarkable, but his forehead is very high, and singularly prominent in the middle; his head, which is thinly covered with hair cut very short, always projected before him in his shuffling gait, which is rather a run than a walk. His vestment generally consists of the "hodden grey" uniform of the parish; his shirt collar, like that of some other public characters, is usually unbuttoned, and displays his Like other military men, "General" is a favourite with the ladies, inasmuch as he is known equally to high and low, and makes promises to all indiscriminately (who please him) that he will marry them "next Sunday morning;" at the same time, he cautions the favoured fair not to be later than half past seven, "for fear somebody else should get him." The "General's" usual occupation is to sell the cheap commodities of the walking stationers, such as dreadful shipwrecks, horrid murders, calendars of the prisoners, last dying speeches and behaviours, or lists of the race horses. Sometimes, when the titles of these occur closely, he makes curious" varieties of literature." Not long since, he was calling "A right and true calendar of all the running horses confined in his majesty's gole, owners' names, horses' names, and colours of the riders, tried, cast, 'quit, and condemned before my lord judge this 'sizes, and how they came in every heat of the three days, with the sentences of the prisoners." About four years ago, at Lenton fair and wakes, which are always at Whitsuntide, and numerously attended from Nottingham, being only a mile distant, some wag set "General" to proclaim the Lenton fair. On this occasion he mounted an enormous cocked hat of straw, and had his wand in his hand. He jumbled together pigs, gingerbread, baa-lambs, cows, dolls, horses, ale, fiddling, sheep, &c. in a confused mass; whilst the latter part of the proclamation, though perfectly true, was very far from being "quite correct." Of the many anecdotes current of "General," one or two authentic ones will display the union of shrewdness and simplicity common to persons of his order of intelligence. On a certain occasion, when public attention was directed towards the commander-in-chief, one evening in the twilight Ben began, "Here's the grand and noble speech as the duke of York made yesterday." A person, who had heard nothing of such a speech, immediately purchased one, and on approaching a window found himself possessed of a piece of blank paper. "General," said he, "here's nothing on it." No, sir, the duke of York said nowt." Being set, at the workhouse, to turn a wheel, he did so properly enough for about half an hour, but becoming tired, he immediately began to turn backwards, nor could he be persuaded to the contrary. A blockhead once tried to make him quarrel with an idiot lad, as they were employed in sweeping the street together; "Oh," said he, he is a poor soft lad, and beneath my notice." There is another instance of his dislike of work : having been set to weed part of the garden, he performed the task by pulling up all the flowers and herbs, and leaving the weeds growing. He once found a sixpence, and ran up the street shouting, "Who's lost sixpence, who's lost sixpence?" "It's mine, General," said one. "But had your's a hole in it?" "Yes," said he-"But this hasn't," rejoined General, and away he ran. His mode of running is remarkable, inasmuch as one leg is considerably shorter than the other, which gives his body an up-and-down motion. One peculiarity is, that when he has any fresh papers to sell he will never stop to take money till quite out of breath, and arrived at the extremity of the town. where he was not known, he was apprehended as a vagrant, and consigned to the tread-mill for a fortnight. "Oft from apparent ills our blessings flow.' David, on his return to Nottingham, favoured us with "three varra coura poems of David Love's composing, ail about the trad wheel, where he carked for a fortnight-only a penny HIS numerous admirers purchased considerably. Besides the "General" and the “bard" now living, Nottingham has been the residence of several equally noted personages deceased; such as Tommy Rippon, Piping Charley, the ventriloquist, &c.; and we have yet amongst us Jacky Peet, and other memorable characters, whose fame, it is feared, may not find an honest chronicler. Nottingham, Oct. 23, 1826. To the Editor of the Every-Day Book. Sir,-In your last year's volume I see you have taken great notice of St. Clement, and the customs observed on his day; but I do not see any mention of a custom which was common in WorcesterI am entirely shire, where I was born. ignorant of its origin; yet in my youth I have often been at its celebration. The custom was as follows: On the afternoon of St. Clement's day. a number of boys collected together in a body, and went from house to house; and at the door of each house, one, or sometimes more, would recite, or chaunt, the following lines— Catherine and Clement, be here, be here; DAVID LOVE, of whom there is an account in the present volume of the Every-Day Book, p. 226, is still in Not-And tingham. In May he visited Hull, but while carolling his wild lays in a place God will send you a good night's rest ⚫ See vol. 1. col. 1497, |