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Notes and Queries, Number 221, January 21, 1854

Queries.

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BUONAPARTE'S ABDICATION.

A gentleman living in the neighbourhood of London bought a table five or six years ago at Wilkinson's, an old established upholsterer on Ludgate Hill.

In a concealed part of the leg of the table he found a brass plate, on which was the following inscription:

"Le Cinq d'Avril, dix-huit cent quatorze, Napoléon Buonaparte signa son abdication sur cette table dans le cabinet de travail du Roi, le 2me après la chambre à coucher, à Fontainebleau."

The people at Wilkinson's could give no account of the table: they said it had been a long time in the shop; they did not remember of whom it had been bought, and were surprised when the brass plate was pointed out to them.

The table is a round one, and rather pretty looking, about two feet and a half in diameter, and supported on one leg. It does not look like a table used for writing, but rather resembles a lady's work-table. The wood with which it is veneered has something the appearance of beef wood.

Wilkinson's shop does not now exist: he used to deal in curiosities, and was employed as an auctioneer.

The gentleman who bought this table is desirous of ascertaining at what time the table still shown at Fontainebleau, as that on which the abdication was signed, was first exhibited: whether immediately after the restoration of the Bourbons, or later, in consequence of a demand for shows of that sort? Whether it is a fact that the Bourbons turned out the imperial furniture from Fontainebleau and other palaces after their return?

The date, "cinq d'Avril," is wrong; the abdication was signed on the 4th. This error, however, leads one to suspect that the table is genuine: as any one preparing a sham table should have been careful in referring to printed documents. From the tenor of the inscription, we may infer that it is the work of a Royalist.

The Marshals present with Napoleon when he signed his abdication were Ney, Oudinot, and Lefevre; and perhaps Caulincourt.

A Cantab.

University Club.

DEATH WARNINGS IN ANCIENT FAMILIES.

I marvel much that none of your contributors in this line have touched upon a very interesting branch of legendary family folk lore, namely, the supernatural appearances, and other circumstances of a ghostly nature, that are said to invariably precede a death in many time-honoured families of the united kingdoms.

We have all heard of the mysterious "White Ladye," that heralds the approach of death, or dire calamity, to the royal house of Hohenzollern. In like manner, the apparition of two gigantic owls upon the battlements of Wardour is said to give sad warning to the noble race of Arundel. The ancient Catholic family of Middleton have the same fatal announcement made to them by the spectral visitation of a Benedictine nun; while a Cheshire house of note, I believe, that of Brereton, are prepared for the last sad hour by the appearance of large trunks of trees floating in a lake in the immediate vicinity of their family mansion. To two families of venerable antiquity, and both, if I remember right, of the county of Lancashire, the approaching death of a relative is made known in one case by loud and continued knockings at the hall door at the solemn hour of midnight; and in the other, by strains of wild and unearthly music floating in the air.

The "Banshee," well known in Ireland, and in the highlands of Scotland, is, I believe, attached exclusively to families of Celtic origin, and is never heard of below the Grampian range; although the ancient border house of Kirkpatrick of Closeburn (of Celtic blood by the way) is said to be attended by a familiar of this kind.

Again, many old manor-houses are known to have been haunted by a friendly, good-natured sprite, ycelpt a "Brownie," whose constant care it was to save the household domestics as much trouble as possible, by doing all their drudgery for them during the silent hours of repose. Who has not heard, for instance, of the "Boy of Hilton?" Of this kindly race, I have no doubt, many interesting anecdotes might be rescued from the dust of time and oblivion, and preserved for us in the pages of "N. & Q."

I hope that the hints I have ventured to throw out may induce some of your talented contributors to follow up the subject.

John o' the Ford.

Malta.

THE SCARLET REGIMENTALS OF THE ENGLISH ARMY.

When was the English soldier first dressed in red? It has been said the yeomen of the guard (vulgo Beef-eaters) were the company which originally wore that coloured uniform; but, seventy years before they were established, viz. temp. Henry V., it appears the military uniform of his army was red:

"Rex vestit suos rubro, et parat transire in Normaniam."—Archæolog. Soc. Antiquar., Lond., vol. xxi. p. 292.

William III. not only preferred that colour, but he thought it degrading to the dignity of his soldiers that the colour should be adopted for the dress of any inferior class of persons; and there is an order now extant, signed by Henry, sixths Duke of Norfolk, as Earl Marshal, dated Dec. 20, 1698,

"Forbidding any persons to use for their liveries scarlet or red cloth, or stuff; except his Majesty's servants and guards, and those belonging to the royal family or foreign Misters."

William IV., who had as much of true old English feeling as any monarch who ever swayed the English sceptre, ordered scarlet to be the universal colour of our Light Dragoons; but two or three years afterwards he was prevailed upon, from some fancy of those about him, to return to the blue again. Still, it is well known that dressing our Light Dragoons in the colour prevailing with other nations has led to serious mistakes in time of action.

A.

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