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tered. Of these wounds he died three or four days after, according to Sir Philip Warwick. . According to Clarendon, “three weeks after being shot into the shoulder with a brace of bullets, which broke the bone." The bone, however, was not found broken, and the “brace of bullets” is equally imaginary.

This account is from a newspaper cutting of The News, August 3, 1828.


The original of the following curiosity is in the Lansdowne MS. (114, No. 8), in the British Museum; and the fact of its being in Lord Burleigh's papers, shows that the occurrence mentioned in it took place between 1571 and 1598, the respective dates of his appointment as “l tresurer” and his death. The supposition that D. Julio was some obnoxious Frenchman, protected by the government, seems necessary to account for the “teachyng a dogg frenche,” in front of his door, constituting such a dire offence.



To proue that one William (sic) Paget, on the yth day of this present moneth,

being Fryday, betwixt viII and Ix of the clocke at nyght, went vp and down teachyng a dogg frenche.

1. Mris Karter, a jentilwoman borne, sayeth, that about the same tym, she did hear the said Paget, that he wold teache his dogg to speak frenche.

2. Mris Anne Coot, a jentilwoman, affirmeth the same.

3. One William Poyser, yeoman, sayeth, that he harde Paget saye that he wold make his dogg speake as good frenche as any of them.

4. James Hudson sayeth, that standing at his maister's doore he did hear Paget speake to his dogg in a straunge language, but what language he knew not.

5. Edward, a grosser, is to be deposed that he harde Paget say, I will teache my dogg to speake frenche, and was talking with his dogg in frenche,

To proue that the sayd Paget did say, Shortlye will come vnto the realme

frenche dogges, I hope I shall see thame all rootted out.

1. Mris Karter sayeth, she harde Paget say, Shortlie wil come vnto the realme frenche dogges, I hope I shall see thame all rootted out.

2. Mris Anne Coot affirmeth the same.

3. William Poyser sayeth, he harde Paget say, Within this week or two, there will come a great many frenche dogges.

4. Mris Eleonore Borgourneci vppon her othe affirmeth the same.

5. The 1 maior writteth in his lre to my l tresurer that Paget affirmeth before him that he wold the realme were ryd of all yll straungers, adding this qualification. [Qualification not given.]

To proue the great assembly that was with Paget, before D. Julio came home

to his howse.

1. John Polton saieth, when his maister came home there was about a hundreth persone of men, women, and chyldren, vp and downe there.

2. James Hudson sayeth, that he thinketh there was about IIII people assembled in the streett before this examināt his maister came home.

3. Richard Preston sayeth, that there was in his iudgement aboue a hundred people in the streett before this deponēts maister came home, and after his m" came home the nomber of the people were greater.

To proue that the sayd Paget did resiste to the constable when he came to

apprehend him,

1. William Poyser sayeth, when the constable came to apprehende the sayd Paget he kept the constable out with force, and sayd he should not enter on him.

2. James Hudson sayeth, Paget wold not suffer the constable to entere vnto his howse, but sayd if any man will entere ynto this howse, yf it were not fi felony or treason to apprehend him, he wold kill hym, yf he could, fr he sayd his howse was his castell.

3. Richard Preston sayeth, when the constable came to apprehend Paget, he hauing a bill or halberd in his hand, did keepe him out of his howse, and sayd, he should not enter except it were fr feloney or treason, or that he brought my 1 maior's warrant.


In the kindred Teutonic tongues the word runs through the various forms of vogt, fogat, phogat, voget, voogde, fogde, foged, fogeti, with the meaning of bailiff, steward, preses, watchman, guard or protector, tutor, overseer, judge, mayor, policeman; and doubtless fogie belongs to the same family, though it has lost its tail. Words frequently degenerate in meaning, falling from the noblest to the basest, from the purest to the most obscene. Is there then any thing improbable in supposing that a word once applied to the governor or chief keeper of a castle, came at last to be applied to all, even the meanest of his subordinates ? Dr. Jamieson asserts that the word fogde in the Su.-G. has actually had that fate. Dr. Jamieson, in his Scottish Dictionary, defines the word "foggie or fogie,” to be first, "an invalid, or garrison soldier," secondly, "a person advanced in life;" and derives it from “Su. G-fogde, formerly one who had the charge of a garrison.

It was a well-known name a century ago in Dublin, being applied to the old men in the Royal Hospital. In Edinburgh Castle, in the latter part of the last and beginning of the present centuries, there were a peculiar body of men called the Fogies. They were an invalid company, being old men, dressed in red coats with apple-green facings, and cocked hats. In a word, it would appear that the word “fogie, in its most general acceptation, means by itself, without the "old," an old soldier; and that "old fogie” is only a tautological form, arising from ignorance of its meaning


This sonnet first appeared in The Bijou, an annual published by Pickering in 1828.


A Sonnet : dedicated to S. T. Coleridge, Esq., by his sincere friend

Joseph Blanco White.

Mysterious night, when the first man but knew
Thee by report, unseen, and heard thy name,
Did he not tremble for this lovely frame,
This glorious canopy of light and blue ?

Yet ’neath a curtain of translucent dew,
Bathed in the rays of the great setting flame,
Hesperus, with the host of heaven, came,
And lo! creation widen'd on his view.

Who could have thought what darkness lay concealed
Within thy beams, 0 Sun? Or who could find,

Whilst fly, and leaf, and insect stood reveald,
That to such endless orbs thou mad'st us blind ?
Weak man! Why to shun death this anxious strife?
If light can thus deceive, wherefore not life?

In a letter from Coleridge to White, dated Nov. 28, 1827, he thus speaks of it:

I have now before me two fragments of letters begun, the one in acknowledgment of the finest and most graceful sonnet in our language (at least, it is only in Milton's and Wordsworth's sonnets that I recollect any rival, and this is not my judgment alone, but that of the man kar étoxiv pirókanov, John Hookham Frere), the second on the receipt of your “ Letter to Charles Butler," &c.

In a subsequent letter, without date, Coleridge thus again reverts to the circumstance of its having been published without his or White's sanction :

But first of your sonnet. On reading the sentences in your letter respecting it, I stood staring vacantly on the paper, in a state of feeling not unlike that which I have too often experienced in a dreain: when I have found myself in chains, or in rags, shunned, or passed by, with looks of horror blended with sadness, by friends and acquaintance; and convinced that, in some alienation of mind, I must have perpetrated some crime, which I strove in vain to recollect. I then ran down to Mrs. Gillman, to learn whether she or Mr. Gillman could throw any light on the subject. Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Gillman could account for it. I have repeated the sonnet often, but, to the best of my recollection, never either gave a copy to any one, or permitted any one to transcribe it; and as to publishing it without your consent, you must allow me to say the truth : I had felt myself so much flattered by your having addressed it to me, that I should have been half afraid that it would appear to be asking to have my vanity tickled, if I had thought of applying to you for permission to publish it. Where and when did it appear? If you will be so good as to inform me, I may perhaps trace it out: for it annoys me to imagine myself capable of such a breach of confidence and of delicacy.

In his Journal, October 16 [1838 ?], Blanco White says:

In copying out my “Sonnet on Night and Death" for a friend, I have made some corrections. It is now as follows:

Mysterious Night! when our first parent knew

Thee from report divine, and heard thy name,
Did he not tremble for this lovely frame,

This glorious canopy of light and blue ?
Yet 'neath a curtain of translucent dew,

Bathed in the rays of the great setting flame,
Hesperus with the host of heaven came,

And lo! creation widen'd in man's view.
Who could have thought such darkness lay conceal'a

Within thy beams, o Sun! or who could find,
Whilst fly, and leaf, and insect stood reveald,

That to such countless orbs thou mad'st us blind!
Why do we then shun death, with anxious strife?

If light can thus deceive, wherefore not life?


In the Odyssey, xvii. 54-57, we have, imitating the Hexameters, the following passage:

Thus Penelope spoke. Then quickly Telemachus sneez'd aloud,
Sounding around all the building ; his mother with smiles at her son, said,
Swiftly addressing her rapid and high-toned words to Eumæus,
“Go then directly, Eumæus, and call to my presence the strange guest.
See'st thou not that my son, ev'ry word I have spoken hath sneez'd at ?
Thus portentous, betok’ning the fate of my hateful suitors,
All whom death and destruction await by a doom irreversive."

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