Notes and Queries, Number 215, December 10, 1853: A Medium of Inter-communication for Literary Men, Artists, Antiquaries, Genealogists, etc

In Short

This issue of the Victorian periodical Notes and Queries functions as an open intellectual forum, gathering short essays, reader inquiries, and scholarly replies across history, literature, folklore, and emerging sciences like photography. Correspondents explore topics ranging from 17th-century street spectacles to classic Latin parallelisms, the origins of local colloquialisms, and military terminology. The issue has lasted because it provides a vivid, unvarnished portrait of mid-19th-century antiquarian culture—capturing the collaborative process of knowledge-building alongside contemporary commercial advertisements that reveal the texture of everyday Victorian life.

The Story

The issue opens with historical documents and literary investigations. William Winthrop presents transmittals regarding royal letters to the Grand Masters of Malta, setting an antiquarian tone. Contributor A. Grayan follows with an examination of "penny sights" from the reign of James I, drawing upon a 1611 verse to list popular Jacobean amusements, such as mandrakes in Fleet Street, London monuments, exotic animals, and famous weapons, while asking readers to identify the fate of Sir Francis Drake’s ship. Rev. John Booker then offers a series of parallel passages comparing Biblical verses with classical Roman poets like Horace, Ovid, and Seneca, alongside a note comparing Ben Jonson's Volpone to Horace's satires.

As the text proceeds into the "Minor Notes" and "Queries" sections, the collaborative nature of the journal comes forward. Short entries document historical curiosities, such as the fact that the first Turkish and Russian grammars published in England originated at Oxford in the late 17th century. Readers write in to request information on diverse subjects, including the genealogy of the McDowall family, the origins of the phrase "a gale of rent," the exact birth and death dates of the Jacobite Pretenders, and the heraldic arms of Sir Richard de Loges.

The "Replies" section provides answers to queries raised in previous issues. A debate unfolds around Sampson Arnold Mackey, a self-educated shoemaker from Norwich who published radical theories on mythology and astronomical cycles. Correspondents detail his life, his work The Mythological Astronomy of the Ancients, and his eventual death in an almshouse. Etymological discussions address the Latin roots of words like sincere and simple, while other contributors share rhyming tavern signs collected across Kent and Middlesex. Military historian W. R. Wilde clarifies the origins of the phrase "forlorn hope," pointing out that it derives from the Dutch or German haupt or hope (referring to the head of an advancing guard) rather than emotional despair.

In its final pages, the issue turns toward technical developments and practical matters. A dedicated section on "Photographic Correspondence" examines chemical techniques, including Dr. Diamond's calotype process and the use of albumenized paper. Minor replies address local legends, such as the subterranean passage and "Potter Thompson" myth at Richmond Castle, as well as the origins of Sir Charles Napier’s famous one-word pun "Peccavi" ("I have Scinde"). The issue concludes with a commercial back-matter featuring advertisements for life insurance policies, photographic cameras, stereoscopic views, books, and household goods.

How It Unfolds

The inquiry opens William Winthrop presents original royal letters sent to the Grand Masters of Malta, while A. Grayan extracts a 1611 poem enumerating cheap Jacobean exhibitions and asks readers for details on Drake's ship.

Classical and biblical echoes Rev. John Booker details parallel expressions found in the New Testament and classical Roman authors, demonstrating how ancient phrases share moral and philosophical imagery.

Questions from the reading public Correspondents submit short queries regarding obscure historical figures, regional sayings like "kicker-eating," the derivation of the title "Clarence," and precise dates for the Stuart Pretenders.

Unraveling regional and biographical mysteries Contributors supply answers to past queries, reconstructing the life of Sampson Arnold Mackey—a self-taught cobbler astronomer—and tracing the true military origins of the phrase "forlorn hope."

Technical developments and daily trade The issue finishes with discussions on early calotype photography, brief notes on local folklore, and pages of period advertisements ranging from optics to insurance.

The People

Sampson Arnold Mackey A self-educated shoemaker from Norwich who seeks scientific recognition by developing complex astronomical, geological, and mythological theories. Despite founding a local debating society and publishing The Mythological Astronomy of the Ancients, he struggles against neglect and ends his life in a Norwich almshouse.

Tom Coryate A Jacobean traveler whose 1611 book Crudities serves as the source for A. Grayan’s note on penny sights. Coryate famously walked 900 miles on a single pair of shoe soles, which he later hung as a memorial in Odcombe Church.

Potter Thompson The central figure of a Richmond folklore legend recounted by M. Aislabie Denham. Directed into a subterranean passage under Richmond Castle, he finds a hall of sleeping warriors but fails to draw the sword or blow the horn required to break their spell.

Dr. Diamond An early photography pioneer whose calotype process and methods for albumenized paper are actively debated and questioned by correspondents in the journal's technical pages.

In Its Own Voice

"Why doe the rude vulgar so hastily post in a madnesse / To gaze at trifles, and toyes not worthy the viewing?"

A anonymous Jacobean verse recorded by A. Grayan mocks the public's appetite for cheap street exhibitions and curiosities in the early seventeenth century.

"Every corps marching in any enemy's country had a small body of men at the head (haupt or hope) of the advanced guard; and which was termed the forlorne hope..."

W. R. Wilde corrects a common misunderstanding, explaining that the military term comes from a structural name for an advance guard rather than a poetic expression of despair.

"...he put it back into the sheath: when instantly a voice exclaimed, 'Potter! Potter Thompson! If thou had either drawn The sword, or blown the horn, Thou had been the luckiest man that ever was born.'"

M. Aislabie Denham transcribes a regional myth from Richmond, Yorkshire, describing a chance encounter with sleeping knights under the castle.

What It's Really About

Notes and Queries is ultimately about the democratization of scholarship and the collaborative recovery of forgotten knowledge. The issue demonstrates how historical facts, linguistic roots, and regional traditions are preserved not through grand single-author narratives, but through the joint efforts of dispersed, curious readers. Underneath the varied topics lies a deep concern with precision—rescuing terms like "forlorn hope" from popular misconception, recording the lives of marginal thinkers like Sampson Arnold Mackey, and documenting oral folklore before it vanishes. It reflects a Victorian instinct to collect, categorize, and cross-reference every fragment of human culture.

Why Read It Today

This issue appeals to historians, etymologists, and lovers of Victorian culture who enjoy seeing how knowledge was assembled before the digital age. Reading it feels like sitting in an armchair inside a private 19th-century library while scholars, hobbyists, and eccentric collectors trade discoveries across the room. The prose is clear, direct, and unpretentious, driven by genuine intellectual curiosity rather than academic jargon.

The primary difficulty for modern readers lies in its fragmented, highly specific nature. Because it is a miscellany of short notes, Latin transcriptions, and ongoing debates, there is no single narrative arc to follow. Some entries presuppose a familiarity with classical Latin or obscure genealogical ties. However, this fragmented structure is also its charm; one can dip into any page to discover how Victorian readers understood the world around them, framed by authentic period advertisements for calotype cameras, stereoscopes, and life assurance policies.