Notes and Queries, Number 64, January 18, 1851

In Short

This single issue of an antiquarian journal functions as a open forum where scholars and enthusiastic readers post textual puzzles, historical inquiries, and corrective notes. Across its pages, contributors debate the divided authorship of Shakespearean plays, trace the origins of familiar idioms, clear up mistakes in recent books, and record vanishing local traditions. Its lasting appeal lies in its unvarnished portrait of a widespread literary community at work, using shared correspondence to catalog niche knowledge, settle historical facts, and build a collective memory long before the advent of digital archives.

The Story

The issue opens with analytical scholarship as contributor Samuel Hickson examines Henry VIII, putting forward specific stylistic evidence to argue that John Fletcher co-authored the play. He builds his argument by comparing distinct habits of phrasing, rhythm, and word choice against known plays by Fletcher, concluding that key soliloquies match Fletcher’s signature patterns rather than Shakespeare’s. Following this lead article, the focus shifts to poetic influences. Henry H. Breen writes from the West Indies to trace Thomas Gray’s famous opening line in his "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" back through Lord Byron and Dante’s Purgatorio all the way to the classical Roman poet Statius.

From detailed literary analysis, the publication moves into shorter notes that resolve smaller historical queries. Contributors discuss the printing habits of the poet George Wither—speculating whether he set his own type at a mobile press—and trace the source of Richard Baxter's familiar phrase regarding preaching "as a dying man to dying men." Attention then shifts to unanswered queries submitted by readers seeking help from the wider community. One contributor presents an anonymous 1627 sonnet on the Cambridge library bearing the initials "J.M.," asking if it could be an overlooked early work by John Milton. Other writers ask about regional burial customs, such as tombs built directly into outer church walls, the survival of historical artifacts like Sir Thomas Bullen's drinking horn, and the location of unpublished manuscripts by Oliver Cromwell's chaplain, Peter Sterry.

The issue then turns to answers submitted for queries published in earlier editions. A discussion on local dragon legends describes real preserved specimens hanging in European churches, including a stuffed reptile in Mantua and ancient bones at Cracow Cathedral. Another correspondent clears up the etymology of the surname Bacon, using heraldic records and old English terms for beech trees to show it originally meant "of the beechen tree." Additional replies resolve points of ecclesiastical history, clarify obscure archaic words like "aver," explain regional terms for hares, and confirm the actual authorship of Jeremy Taylor's Holy Living.

The issue concludes with publisher announcements and notices. The editor highlights new historical books, including Isaac D'Israeli's work on Charles I, while detailing subscription rates for distant readers. The final pages appeal to the public for funds to restore Geoffrey Chaucer’s decaying tomb in Westminster Abbey, closing out a broad snapshot of Victorian research, debate, and historical preservation.

How It Unfolds

The debate over authorship The opening pages present a detailed breakdown of Henry VIII, using parallel phrasing from Fletcher's known works to argue that Shakespeare did not write the play alone.

Tracing literary lineages A correspondent from the West Indies connects Gray’s "Elegy" to Italian and Latin precedents, highlighting how poetic imagery travels across centuries and languages.

Folk traditions and curiosities Short notes explore physical relics and local lore, examining stuffed reptiles in European cathedrals and investigating why certain medieval tombs were built directly into church walls.

Etymologies and origins Contributors trace everyday words and names to their historical roots, demonstrating that the family name Bacon originally derived from an old word for the beech tree rather than the animal.

Appeals for historical preservation The closing section shifts from textual research to physical heritage, listing recent book publications alongside an urgent committee request for funds to repair Geoffrey Chaucer's crumbling monument.

The People

Because this is a periodical publication composed of correspondence, its central figures are the contributing scholars, readers, and antiquarians who drive the dialogue forward through their questions and findings.

• Samuel Hickson seeks to prove that John Fletcher wrote substantial parts of Shakespeare's Henry VIII. He meticulously compares stylistic quirks, line endings, and characteristic phrases across multiple plays, ultimately finding satisfaction when his conclusions align with other contemporary critics.
• Henry H. Breen seeks to maintain an active role in global literary conversations despite his geographic isolation in St. Lucia. He submits comparative notes on poetic borrowings, facing the delays of international mail while expressing gratitude for a platform that connects distant researchers.
• The Editor and Correspondents seek to build an accurate, shared record of history, language, and literature. They challenge errors in current books, track down lost manuscripts, explain regional dialects, and solicit donations from the public to preserve historic physical monuments.

In Its Own Voice

"In that great maze of books I sighed and said,-- / It is a grave-yard, and each tome a tombe..."

A contributor shares an anonymous 1627 sonnet found in an old collection, raising the question of whether its gloomily phrased lines on the Cambridge library belong to a young John Milton.

"...having deeply suffered from the literary isolation consequent upon a residence of twenty-one years in this country, I shall gladly submit to any disadvantage which shall not involve a total exclusion..."

A subscriber writing from the West Indies describes the isolation of living far from Britain's intellectual centers and highlights the magazine's role in bridging long distances.

"The Tomb of Geoffrey Chaucer in Westminster Abbey is fast mouldering into irretrievable decay. A sum of One Hundred Pounds will effect a perfect repair."

A public appeal from an antiquarian committee warns readers that a major piece of literary heritage faces total destruction without immediate intervention.

What It's Really About

At its core, the text is about the collective nature of knowledge and historical preservation. It demonstrates that understanding the past requires dynamic, crowdsourced cooperation rather than isolated scholarship. The contributors treat minor details—such as an obscure line of verse, a regional dialect word, or an unsung burial custom—as essential pieces of a larger culture. Beneath its varied discussions lies a quiet argument for critical rigor: claims of authorship must be backed by structural evidence, printed errors must be corrected, and public monuments must be actively maintained by the generations that inherit them.

Why Read It Today

This issue offers a charming, unedited look into the nineteenth-century mind, revealing how educated readers pursued knowledge before digital search tools existed. Reading it feels like looking through an active literary workshop, where scholars test ideas out in the open, correct one another with polite precision, and share niche discoveries.

The primary hurdle for modern readers is the text's fragmented structure. Because it collects dozens of unrelated entries, it lacks a central narrative line, moving abruptly from complex textual criticism to obscure etymologies and editorial announcements. Some entries also assume a familiarity with classical literature, Latin phrases, and minor historical figures.

However, for anyone interested in historiography, literary detective work, or Victorian culture, the publication is deeply rewarding. It preserves the excitement of discovery—whether that means finding a forgotten parallel in a renaissance play, solving an old linguistic puzzle, or rallying support to save a poet's grave. What stays with you is the warmth of a community united by curiosity and a deep respect for the written word.