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court of pie-poudre, curia pedis pulverizati, from the dusty feet of the suitors; or, as sir Edward Coke says, because justice is there done as speedily as dust can fall from the feet: but Blackstone, who says thus much of this court, inclines to the opinion of Daines Barrington, who, derives it from pied puldreaux, (a pedlar, in old French,) and says, it signifies, therefore, the court of such petty chapmen as resort to fairs or markets.

Courts similar to pie-powder courts were usual both with Greeks and Romans, who introduced fairs into Germany and

the north.*

that is, a variety of fancies fardelled or packed together in a bundle or burthen. "Fancies" was a name for pleasant ballads, or poetical effusions ;—and hence, because Orlando "hangs odes upon hawthorns, and elegies on brambles, all, forsooth, deifying the name of Rosalind," she calls him a “fancy monger.

The Porter.

It is to be noted too, that a poiter is clearly described by Holme. "He beareth vert, a porter carrying of a pack, argent, corked, sable; cloathed in tawney, cap and shoes sable. This is the badge and cognizance of all porters and carriers of burthens;" but that there may be no mistake, he adds, "they have ever a leather girdle about them, with a strong rope of two or three fouldings hanging thereat, which they have in readiness to bind the burdens to their backs whensoever called thereunto."

The Pedlar.

This is his figure from Randle Holme, who describes him thus:-"He beareth argent, a crate carrier, with a crate upon his back, or; cloathed in russed, with a staffe in his left hand; hat and shoes sable." He observes, that "this is also termed a pedlar and his pack," and he carefully notes that the difference between a porter and a pedlar consists in this, that "the porter's pack reacheth over his head and so answerable below; but the pedlar's is a small truss, bundle, or fardel, not exceeding the middle of his head as in this figure." Every reader of Shakspeare knows the word "fardel:"

"Who would fardels bear To groan and sweat under a weary life," &c.

Fardel means a burden, or bundle, or pack, and so Holme has called the pedlar's pack. The word is well known in that sense to those acquainted with our earlier language. An Act of common council of the first of August, 1554, against "Abuses offered to Pauls," recites, that the inhabitants of London, and others, were accustomed to make their common carriage of "fardels of stuffe, and other grosse wares and things thorow the cathedrall church of Saint Pauls," and prohibits the abuse. There is an old book entitled, "a Fardel of Fancies;"

* Fosbroke Dict. Antiq.

did not exist in Randle Holme's time The Porter's Knot, now used, This subsequent invention consists of a strong fillet to encircle the head, attached of the shoulders, whereon it rests, and is to a curiously stuffed cushion of the width of height sufficient to bear thereon a box, or heavy load of any kind, which, by and shoulders; the weight thereof being means of this knot, is carried on the head borne equally by the various powers of the body capable of sustaining pressure, no muscles are distressed, but the whole are brought to the porter's service in his labour of carrying.

tract printed in 1641, under that title "Bartholomew Faire," a rare quarto states, that "Bartholomew Faire begins on the twenty-fourth day of August, and is tained in no lesse than four several pathen of so vast an extent, that it is conrishes, namely, Christ Church, Great and Little St. Bartholomewes, and St. Sepul chres. Hither resort people of all sorts and conditions. Christ Church cloisters markable and worth your observation to are now hung full of pictures. It is rebeholde and heare the strange sights and confused noise in the Faire. Here, a knave in a foole's coate, with a trumpet

sounding, or on a drumme beating, invites you to see his puppets: there, a rogue like a wild woodman, or in an antick shape like an Incubus, desires your company to view his motion: on the other side, Hocus Pocus, with three yards of tape, or ribbin, in's hand, shewing his art of legerdemaine, to the admiration and astonishment of a company of cockoloaches. Amongst these, you shall see a gray Goose-cap, (as wise as the rest,) with a what do ye lacke in his mouth, stand in his boothe, shaking a rattle, or scraping on a fiddle, with which children are so taken, that they presentlie cry out for these fopperies and all these together make such a distracted noise, that you would thinck Babell were not comparable to it. Here there are also your gamesters in action: some turning of a whimsey, others throwing for pewter, who can quickly dissolve a round shilling into a three halfepeny saucer. Long-lane at this time looks very faire, and puts out her best cloaths, with the wrong side outward, so turn'd for their better turning off: and Cloth Faire is now in great request: well fare the ale-houses therein, yet better may a man fare, (but at a dearer rate,) in the pig-market, alias PastyNooke, or Pye-Corner, where pigges are al houres of the day on the stalls piping hot, and would cry, (if they could speak,)

come eate me.""

Pye Corner.

This is the place wherein Ben Jonson's Littlewit, the proctor, willed that his wife Win-the-fight should not eat Bartholomew pig:"Long to eat of a pig, sweet Win, i'the Fair; do you see? i' the heart o' the Fair; not at, Pye-corner."

Pye-corner was so called" says Dr. (James) Howel, "of such a sign, sometimes a fair Inne, for receipt of travellers, but now devided into tenements." It was at Pye-corner as observed before, that the Fire of London ended: the houses that escaped were taken down in October, 1809, and upon their site other dwelling-houses have been erected, together with an engine-house, belonging to the Hope Fire Assurance company, where it stands at present (in 1825). It was estimated in the year 1732, that "the number of sucking pigs then annually consumed in this city, (of London) amounted to fifty-two thousand †.”

Smith's Anc. Top. of London, † Maitland.

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ELIA, author of the incomparable volume of " Essays," published "under that name," by Messrs. Taylor and Hessey, indulges in a "Dissertation upon Roast Pig." He cites a Chinese MS. to establish its origin, when flesh was eaten uncooked, and affirms that “the period is not obscurely hinted at by the great Confucius, in the second chapter of his Mundane Mutations,' where he designates a kind of golden age by the term Chofang, literally the cooks' holiday." He premises "broiling to be the elder brother of roasting," and relates on the authority of the aforesaid MS. that "roast pig" "was accidentally discovered in the manner following"-viz.

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"The swine-herd, Ho-ti, having gone out into the woods one morning, as his manner was, to collect mast for his hogs, left his cottage in the care of his eldest son Bo-bo, a great lubberly boy, who, being fond of playing with fire, as younkers of his age commonly are, let some sparks escape into a bundle of straw, which, kindling quickly, spread the conflagration over every part of their poor mansion, till it was reduced to ashes. Together with the cottage (a sorry antediluvian makeshift of a building, you may think it), what was of much more importance, a fine litter of new-farrowed pigs, no less than nine in number, perished. China pigs have been esteemed a luxury all over the east from the remotest periods that we read of. Bo-bo was in the utmost consternation, as you may think, not so much for the sake of the tenement, which his father and he could easily build up again with a few dry branches, and the labour of an hour or two, at any time, as for the loss of the pigs. While he was thinking what he should say to his father, and wringing his hands over the smoking remnants of one of those untimely sufferers, an odour assailed his nostrils, unlike any scent which he had before experienced. What could it proceed from ?— not from the burnt cottage-he had smelt that smell before-indeed this was by no

means the first accident of the kind which had occurred through the negligence of Much this unlucky young fire-brand. less did it resemble that of any known herb, weed, or flower. A premonitory moistening at the same time overflowed his nether lip. He knew not what to

think. He next stooped down to feel the pig, if there were any signs of life in it. He burnt his fingers, and to cool them he applied them in his booby fashion to his mouth. Some of the crums of the scorched skin had come away with his fingers, and for the first time in his life (in the world's life indeed, for before him no man had known it), he tasted-crackling! Again he felt and fumbled at the pig. It did not burn him so much now, still he licked his fingers from a sort of habit. The truth at length broke into his slow understanding, that it was the pig that smelt so, and the pig that tasted so delicious; and, surrendering himself up to the newborn pleasure, he fell to tearing up whole handfuls of the scorched skin with the flesh next it, and was cramming it down his throat in his beastly fashion, when his sire entered amid the smoking rafters, armed with a retributory cudgel, and finding how affairs stood, began to rain blows upon the young rogue's shoulders as thick as hailstones, which Bo-bo heeded not any more than if they had been flies. The tickling pleasure, which he experienced in his lower regions, had rendered him quite callous to any inconveniences he might feel in those remote quarters. His father might lay on, but he could not beat him from his pig."

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Bo-bo in the afternoon, regardless of his father's wrath, and with his "scent wonderfully sharpened since morning, soon raked out another pig, and fairly rending it asunder, thrust the lesser half by main force into the fists of Ho-ti, still shouting out, Eat, eat, eat, the burnt pig, father; only taste-O Lord!'-with such like barbarous ejaculations, cramming all the while as if he would choke." The narrative relates, that "Ho-ti trembled every joint while he grasped the abominable thing, wavering whether he should not put his son to death for an unnatural young monster, when the crackling scorching his fingers, as it had done his son's, and applying the same remedy to them, he in his turn tasted some of its flavour, which, make what sour mouths he would for a pretence, proved not altogether displeasing to him. In conclusion, (for the manuscript here is a little tedious,) both father and son fairly set down to the mess, and never left off till they had despatched all that remained of the little.

"Bo-bo was strictly enjoined not to let the secret escape, for the neighbours would certainly have stoned them for a

couple of abominable wretches, who could think of improving upon the good meat which God had sent them. Nevertheless, strange stories got about. It was ob served that Ho-ti's cottage was burnt down now more frequently than ever. Nothing but fires from this time forward. Some would break out in broad day, others in the night-time. As often as the sow farrowed, so sure was the house of Ho-ti to be in a blaze; aud Ho-ti himself, which was the more remarkable, instead of chastising his son, seemed to grow more indulgent to him than ever. At length they were watched, the terrible mystery discovered, and father and son summoned to take their trial at Pekin, then an inconsiderable assize town. Evidence was given, the obnoxious food itself produced in court, and verdict about to be pronounced, when the foreman of the jury begged that some of the burnt pig, of which the culprits stood accused, might be handed into the box. He handled it, and they all handled it, and burning their fingers, as Bo-bo and his father had done before them, and nature prompting to each of them the same remedy, against the face of all the facts, and the clearest charge which judge had ever given,-to the surprise of the whole court, townsfolk, strangers, reporters, and all present-without leaving the box, or any manner of consultation whatever, they brought in a simultaneous verdict of Not Guilty.

"The judge, who was a shrewd fellow, winked at the manifest iniquity of the decision; and, when the court was dismissed, went privily, and bought up all the pigs that could be had for love or money. In a few days his lordship's town house was observed to be on fire. The thing took wing, and now there was nothing to be seen but fires in every direc tion. Fuel and pigs grew enormously dear all over the district. The insurance offices one and all shut up shop. People built slighter and slighter every day, until it was feared that the very science of architecture would in no long time be lost to the world. Thus this custom of firing houses continued, till in process of time, says my manuscript, a sage arose, like our Locke, who made a discovery, that the flesh of swine, or indeed of any other animal, might be cooked (burnt, as they called it,) without the necessity of consuming a whole house to dress it. They first began the rude form of a grid

iron. Roasting by the string, or spit, came in a century or two later, I forget in whose dynasty. By such slow degrees, concludes the manuscript, do the most useful, and seemingly the most obvious arts, make their way among mankind.”

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ELIA maintains, that of all the delicacies in the whole eatable world," roast pig" is the most delicate.-" I speak,” he says, “not of your grown porkers things between pig and pork-those hobbydehoys—but a young and tender suckling-under a moon old-guiltless as yet of the sty," with "his voice as yet not broken, but something between a childish treble and a grumble-the mild forerunner, or præludium, of a grunt.

“He must be roasted. I am not ignorant that our ancestors ate them seethed, or boiled—but what a sacrifice of the exterior tegument!

his memory is odoriferous - no clown curseth, while his stomach half rejecteth, the rank bacon-no coalheaver bolteth him in reeking sausages-he hath a fair sepulchre in the grateful stomach of the judicious epicure-and for such a tomb might be content to die."

ELIA further allegeth of "pig," that "the strong man may batten on him, and the weakling refuseth not his mild juices. He is good throughout. No part of him is better or worse than another. helpeth, as far as his little means extend, all around. He is the least envious of banquets. He is all neighbours' fare."

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"I am one of those," continueth ELIA, "who freely and ungrudgingly impart a share of the good things of this life which fall to their lot (few as mine are in this kind) to a friend. I protest, I take as great an interest in my friend's pleasures, his relishes, and proper satisfactions, as in mine own. Presents,' I often say,

endear absents.' Hares, pheasants, partridges, suipes, barn-door chickens (those tame villatic fowl'), capons, plovers, brawn, barrels of oysters, I dispense as freely as I receive them. I love to taste them, as it were, upon the tongue of my friend. But a stop must be put somewhere. One would not, like Lear, give every thing.' I make my stand upon pig.

"There is no flavour comparable, I will contend, to that of the crisp, tawny, wellwatched, not over-roasted crackling, as it is well called-the very teeth are invited to their share of the pleasure at this banquet in overcoming the coy, brittle resistance with the adhesive oleaginous-O call it not fat-but an indefinable sweetness growing up to it-the tender blossoming of fat-fat cropped in the bud-taken in the shoot-in the first innocence-the cream and quintessence of the child-pig's yet pure food-the lean, no lean, but a kind of animal manna-or, rather fat and lean (if it must be so) so blended and running into each other, that both toge-Whether, supposing that the flavour of ther make but one ambrosial result, or common substance.

"Behold him while he is doing-it seemeth rather a refreshing warmth, than a scorching heat, that he is so passive to. How equally he twirleth round the string! -Now he is just done. To see the extreme sensibility of that tender age, he hath wept out his pretty eyes-radiant jellies shooting stars.

“See him in the dish, his second cradle, how meek he lieth!-wouldst thou have had this innocent grow up to the grossness and indocility which too often accompany maturer swinehood? Ten to one he would have proved a glutton, a sloven, an obstinate, disagreeable animal-wallowing in all manner of filthy conversation — from these sins he is happily snatched away

Ere sin could blight, or sorrow fade,
Death came with timely care→

"I remember an hypothesis, argued upon by the young students, when I was at St. Omer's, and maintained with much learning and pleasantry on both sides,

a pig who obtained his death by whipping (per flagellationem extremam) superadded a pleasure upon the palate of a man more intense than any possible suffering we can conceive in the animal, is man justified in using that method of putting the animal to death? I forget the decision.

"His sauce should be considered. Decidedly, a few bread crums, done up with his liver and brains, and a dash of mild sage. But banish, dear Mrs. Cook, I beseech you, the whole onion tribe. Barbecue your whole hogs to your palate, steep them in shalots, stuff them out with plantations of the rank and guilty garlic; you cannot poison them, or make them stronger than they are—but consider, he is a weakling—a flower.”

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Part of Bartholomew Fair, 1721.

The two engravings whereon the reader now looks, are from a very curious scenic print of this Fair, as represented on an old fan, recently published by

Mr. Setchel, of King-street, Covent-garden. The letter-press account subjoined to Mr. Setchel's print says, that "about the year 1721, when the present interest.

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