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ORIGIN OF THE WORD BRITANNIA

(To the Editor.)

I discovered the following curious information in a Classical Dictionary appended to a very old Latin Thesaurus, written by Cooper, Bishop of Norwich, in the early part of the reign of Elizabeth; which, as its authenticity may be relied on, affords an easy solution to a difficulty that has puzzled many. I speak of the origin of the name Britannia.

“About 30 yeres sence, it hapned in Wilshire, at Juy Church, aboute two myles from Sarisbury, as men digged to make a foundation, they founde an holow stone couered with another stone, wherin they founde a booke, hauevinge in it little above xx leaves (as they saide) of very thicke vellume, wherin was some things written. But when it was shewed to priests and chanons, whiche were there, they could not reade it. Wherfore after they had tossed it from one to another (by the meanes wherof it was torne) they did neglecte and caste it aside. Long after a peece therof happened to come to my handes: whiche notwithstandynge it was all to rente defaced, I shewed to Maister Richard Pace, than chiefe secretary to the kynges moste royal majestie, wherof he exceedingly rejoysed. But because it was partely rente, partely defaced and blourred with meate (or weate) whiche had fallen on it, he could not finde any one sentence perfect. Notwithstandynge after longe beholdynge, he shewed me, it seemed that the said booke conteined some auncient monument of this yle, and that he perceived this woorde Prytania, to be put for Brytannia. But at that tyme he sayde no more to me. Afterwarde, I gevyng much study and diligence to the readynge of hystories, consyderynge wherof this woorde Britannia first came, fyndynge that all the yles in this parte in the occean, were called Brittaniæ, after conjecture of Albion, remebringe (remembering) the sayde wrytynge, and by chaunce fyndyng in Suidas, that Prytania in Greeke, with a circumflexed aspiratio (aspiration,) doeth signifie metalles, fayres and markettes, also revenues belongyng to the commune treasure: I then conceyved this opinion, that the Greekes flourishynge in wisdome, prowesse, and experience, of saylynge, beynge entred into the occean sea, founde in the yles greate plenty of tyn, leade, yron, brasse, and in divers places golde and sylver in great quantitie, they called all those yles (isles) by this generall name Prytania, &c.”

I have, with few exceptions, preserved the spelling.

Your constant reader and admirer,

AN ANTIQUARY.

POLAND

(For the Mirror.)

The following account of Poland, may be acceptable at the present time, when this heroic people are making a noble effort to throw off the yoke of Russian despotism.

As a kingdom, Poland is swept from the map of nations; but when geographically considered, is of no small importance: it lies between forty-six and fifty-seven degrees of north latitude, and between sixteen and thirty-four degrees east longitude; and is bounded north by Russia, south by Hungary and Turkey in Europe, east by Russia, west by Prussia and Germany. Poland is in general a very level country, (if we except the Carpathian mountains,) fertile in corn, having long furnished Sweden and Holland; its horses are some of the finest in Europe, and its salt-works are very productive; the towns collectively are built of wood; the appearance of the villages very mean.

This was the country of the ancient Vandals; it was made a duchy about the end of the seventh century; in the tenth, Christianity was introduced, and Boleslaus erected it into a monarchy in 999. The form of government was here very singular: it was the only elective monarchy in Europe, and the Poles, in the choice of a king, did not always confine themselves to a countryman; at one time all nations were eligible. The king was elected by the whole body of the nobility and gentry in the plains of Warsaw, and before this choice they obliged him to sign whatever conditions they thought proper. The Polish armies were not paid by the king; every nobleman or gentleman gave his attendance in time of war, at the head of his vassals, and retired from the fatigues of the campaign when it suited his own inclination. In the year 1779, a singularly bold partition of this country was effected by Russia, Prussia, and Austria; Russia laid claim to part of Lithuania, Polesia, Podolia, Volhinia, and part of the Ukraine. This immense tract of country, containing 8,000,000 souls, is become part and parcel of the Russian territory. Prussia claimed Great Poland, the other part of Lithuania, and Polish Russia. The only part of Poland retained by Prussia, is the Grand Duchy of Posen, containing 538 geographical square miles, and 1,051,137 inhabitants. Its chief towns are Bromberg and Posen. Austria seized on Little Poland and Red Russia, leaving to the King of Poland only Samogitia, Mascovia, and Polachia; even this small territory was wrested from him, and in 1795, he was obliged to resign his crown. That part of Poland which is subject to Austria, bears the designation of the kingdom of Galicia and Lodomiria. Its population amounts to 4,370,000 souls. The present kingdom of Poland is hereditary in the person of the Russian autocrat and his successors, and comprises a superfices of 6,340 square leagues, having a population of 3,850,000 souls. It is divided into eight waiwodeships, namely, Warsaw, Landomir, Kalish, Lublin, Plotzk, Mascovia, Podolachia, and Augustowo. Its rivers are the Vistula, Warte, Bug, Dnieper, Niemen, and Dwina. The national revenues amounted (prior to the present contest) to £2,280,000. sterling, about the seventh part of which was assigned to the civil list. Its military force during the despotic government of the Grand Duke Constantine, was 30,000 infantry, and 20,000 cavalry; at present it is estimated at 70,000 infantry, 20,000 cavalry, and 50,000 men armed with scythes. Warsaw, with 126,433 inhabitants, is its capital, and next stand in succession Landomir, 50,000 inhabitants; Lublin, 12,000; and Kalies, 8,500. The Catholic religion predominates, but the number of Jews and Socinians is great. There are more than 2,000,000 Jews dispersed through Poland, independent of those resident as merchants in the principal towns. Socinius resided many years at Cracow, and married the daughter of a Polish nobleman. According to a distinguished Polish historian, M. Chodzko, the population of the different provinces of Ancient Poland amounted, in 1824, to about 19,000,000 of inhabitants.

W.G.C.

FINE ARTS

MR. HAYDON’S PICTURE OF NAPOLEON MUSING AT ST. HELENA

This picture has, we understand, been painted for Sir Robert Peel, whose taste and munificence in patronizing the fine arts cannot be too highly praised. It is throughout a masterly performance, and one of which the English school of art has just cause to be proud. We intend to let Mr. Haydon describe it in his own vivid style:—

“Napoleon was peculiarly alive to poetical association as produced by scenery or sound; village bells with their echoing ding, dong, dang, now bursting full on the ear, now dying in the wind, affected him as they affect every body alive to natural impressions, and in the eve of all his great battles, you find him stealing away in the dead of the night, between the two hosts, and indulging in every species of poetical reverie.

“It was impossible to think of such a genius in captivity, without mysterious associations of the sky, the sea, the rock, and the solitude with which he was enveloped, I never imagined him but as if musing at dawn, or melancholy at sun-set, listening at midnight to the beating and roaring of the Atlantic, or meditating as the stars gazed and the moon shone on him: in short Napoleon never appeared to me but at those moments of silence and twilight, when nature seems to sympathize with the fallen and when if there be moments fit, in this turbulent earth, for celestial intercourse, one must imagine these would be the moments immortal spirits might select to descend within the sphere of mortality, to soothe and comfort, to inspire and support the afflicted.

“Under such impressions the present picture was produced,—I imagined him standing on the brow of an impending cliff and musing on his past fortunes,—imagined sea birds screaming at his feet,—the sun just down,—the sails of his guard ship glittering on the horizon, and the Atlantic, calm, silent, awfully deep, and endlessly extensive.

“I tried it in a small sketch, and it was instantly purchased,—I published a print and the demand is now and has been incessant; a commission for a picture the full size of life, from one well known as the friend of artists and patron of art followed, and thus I have ventured to think a conception so unexpectedly popular might, on this enlarged scale, not be uninteresting to the public.

“No trouble has been spared to render the picture a resemblance, its height is Napoleon’s exact height, according to Constant, his valet, viz. five feet two inches and three quarters, French, or five feet five inches and a half, English; the uniform is that of one of the regiments of Chasseurs, every detail has been dictated by an old officer of the regiment; and his celebrated hat has been faithfully copied from one of Napoleon’s own hats now in England.

“The best description I ever saw of Napoleon’s appearance was in the letter of an Irish gentleman, named North, published in the Dublin Evening Post, and as it is so very characteristic, it may amuse the visiter. He saw him at Elba in 1814, and thus paints him:—

“He but little resembles the notion I had of him, or any other man I ever saw. He is the squarest figure I think I ever remember to have seen, and exceedingly corpulent. His face is a perfect square, from the effects of fat, and, as he has no whiskers, his jaw is thrown more into relief; this description, joined to his odd little three-cornered cocked hat, and very plain clothes, would certainly give him the appearance of a vulgar person, if the impression was not counteracted by his evil soldierly carriage, and the peculiar manner of his walking, which is confident, theatrical and a little ruffian like, for he stamps the ground at every step, and at the same time twists his body a little. He was dressed that day in a green coat, turned up with a dirty white, &c. &c. &c. His neck is short, his shoulders very broad, and his chest open * * * *

“His features are remarkably masculine, regular and well formed. His skin is coarse, unwrinkled and weather-beaten, his eyes possess a natural and unaffected fierceness, the most extraordinary I ever beheld: they are full, bright, and of a brassy colour. He looked directly at me, and his stare is by far the most intense I ever beheld. This time, however, curiosity made me a match, for I vanquished him. It is when he regards you, that you mark the singular expression of his eyes—no frown—no ill-humour—no affectation of appearing terrible; but the genuine expression of an iron, inexorable temper.”

We have only to remark that the picture appears to us exceedingly well drawn, and equally coloured. Objection has been made to the large size of the epaulettes, and the colouring of the sea. To the first opinion we may subscribe, but doubt whether the objection ought to extend to the latter, especially if we remember the great height of the cliff on which Napoleon stands, and the usual sombre appearance of the ocean towards the last minute of sunset. The lower part of the figure, particularly the left leg, half advanced, is admirably drawn.

The effect of the picture, on the spectator entering the room, is one of the most extraordinary character. Its general outline—Napoleon standing on the crest of a tremendous cliff, with his back nearly turned to the spectator, the vast Atlantic, and the parting glow of the sun—the figure too, the size of life—will, in some measure, prepare him for this effect, which we confess ourselves at a loss to describe. Its very grandeur impresses us with awe, and our afterthought becomes tinged with melancholy from associating the fate of the illustrious original with the towering cliff,—the vasty sea,—the dying splendour of the sun, and the specky sail of the guard ship fluttering in its last light. Yet how delightful is it to reflect that such effects are within the span of a few square yards of canvass, and how ennobling is the recollection that genius, (ill-fostered as it has been in the case of the painter before us) enables one man to produce such sublime and agreeable impressions on his fellows. To step from the busy pavé of New Bond-street and its busy whirl of fashion to this placid meer of reflection is a contrast almost too severe for some of the puling votaries of London gaiety: yet the scene teems with deep-souled poetry. Some such feelings as those so touchingly expressed in Lord Byron’s Ode to Napoleon, on his first exile, flit through the memory:—