280 



NOTES AND QUERIES. 



[No. 48. 



SIB GAMMEE VANS. 



In reply to C.'s inquiry (Vol. ii., p. 89.) as to a 

 comic story about one Si?^ Gammer Vans, I liave 

 pleasure in communicating what little information 

 I have on the subject. Some years ago, when I 

 was quite a boy, the story was told me by an Irish 

 clergyman, since deceased. He spoke of it as an 

 old Irish tradition, but did not give his authority 

 for saying so. The story, as he gave it, contained 

 no allusion to an " aunt" or " mother." I do not 

 know whether it will be worthy of publication : 

 but here it is, and you can make what use of it 

 you like : — 



" Last Sunday morning at six o'clock in the evening, 

 as I was sailing over the tops of the mountains in my 

 little boat, I met two men on horseback riding on one 

 mare : so I asked them ' Could they tell me whether 

 the little old woman was dead yet, who was hanged 

 last Saturday week for drowning herself in a shower of 

 feathers?' They said they could not positively inform 

 me, but if I went to Sir Gammar Vans he could tell 

 me all about it. ' But how am I to know the house ?' 

 s:iid I. ' Ho, 'tis easy enough,' said they, ' for it's a 

 brick house, built entirely of flints, standing alone by 

 itself in the middle of sixty or seventy others just like 

 it.' ' Oh, nothing in the world is easier,' said I. 

 ' Nothing can be easier,' said they : so I went on my 

 way. Now this Sir G. Vans was a giant, and bottle- 

 maker. And as all giants, who are bottlemakers, 

 usually pop out of a little thumb bottle from behind 

 the door, so did Sir G. Vans. ' How d'ye do ?' says he. 

 ' Very well, I thank you,' says I. ' Have some break- 

 fast with me?' ' With all my heart,' says I. So he 

 gave me a slice of beer, and a cup of cold veal; and 

 there was a little dos under the table that picked up 

 all the crumbs. ' Hang him,' says I. ' No, don't 

 hang him,' says he ; ' for he killed a hare yesterday. 

 And if you don't believe me, I'll show you the hare 

 alive in a basket.' So he took me into his garden to 

 show me the curiosities. In one corner there was a 

 fox hatching eagle's eggs ; in another there was an iron 

 apple tree, entirely covered with pears and lead ; in 

 the third there was the hare which the dog killed 

 yesterday alive in the basket; and in the fourth there 

 were twenty-four hipper sivitches threshing tobacco, 

 and at the sight of me they threshed so hard that they 

 drove the plug through the wall, and through a little 

 dog that was passing by on the other side. I, hearing 

 the dog howl, jumped over the wall ; and turned it is 

 neatly inside out as possible, when it ran away as if it 

 had not an hour to live. Then he took me into the 

 park to show me his deer : and I remembered that I 

 had a warrant in my pocket to shoot venison for his 

 majesty's dinner. So I set fire to my bow. poised my 

 arrow, and shot amongst them. I broke seventeen 

 ribs on one side, and twenty-one and a half on the 

 other; but my arrow passed clean through without 

 ever touching it, and the worst was I lost my arrow : 

 however, I found it again in the hollow of a tree. I 

 felt it; it felt clammy. I smelt it; it smelt honey. ' Oh, 

 ho!' said I, 'here's a bee's nest,' when out sprung a 

 covey of ])anridges. I shot at them; some say I killed 



eighteen; but lam strre I killed thirty-six, besides a 

 dead salmon which was flying over the bridge, of which 

 I made the best apple pie I ever tasted." 



Such is tlie story •: I can answer for its general 

 accuracy. I am quite at sea as to the meaning 

 and orthography of " hipper switches," — having 

 heard, not seen, the story. S. G. 



Corpus Christi College, Cambridge. 



THE COLLAR OT SS. 



(Vol. ii., pp.89. 194. 248.) 



The Collar of SS. " is to tliis day a mystery to 

 the most learned and indefatigable antiquaries," 

 according to ]Mr. Planche, in his valuable little 

 work on The History of British Costume : what 

 has appeared in " Notes and Queries " certainly 

 has not cleared away the obscurity. Armiger 

 tells us (Vol.ii., p. 195.): "As to the derivation of 

 the name of the collar from Sovei-uyne; from St. 

 Simpiicius ; from the martyrs of Soissons (viz. St. 

 Crespin and St. Crespinian, upon whose anniver- 

 sary the battle of Agincourt was fought) ; from 

 the Countess of Salisbury ; from the word Sou- 

 veuez; and, lastly, from Seneschallus or Steward, 

 (which latter is Mr. Nichols' notion) — they may 

 be regarded as mere monkish (?) or heraldic gos- 

 sip." If the monastic writers had spoken anything 

 on the matter, a doubt never would have existed : 

 but none of them has even hinted at it. Never 

 having seen the articles in the Gentlemari s Maga- 

 zine, I do not know Mr. Nichols' reasons for sup- 

 posing " Seneschallus or Steward " could have 

 furnished an origin of the SS. ; but I am at a loss 

 to tliink of any grounds upon which such a guess 

 could rest. From the searches I have made upon 

 this question, it seems to lue that these SS. are 

 taken as a short way of expressing the " Sanctcs, 

 Sanctus, Sanctus" of tlie Salisbury liturgy and 

 ritual. I hope soon to be able to lay before 

 the public the docvmients out of which I draw 

 this opinion, in a note to the third and forth- 

 coming volume of The Church of our Fathers. 



D. Rock. 



Collar of SS. — To your list of persons now 

 privileged to wear these collars, I beg to add her 

 Majesty's Serjeant trumpeter, Thomas Lister 

 Parker, Esq., to whom a silver collar of SS. lias 

 been granted. It is always worn by him or his 

 deputy on state occasions. Thomas Lewis, 



Acting Serjeant Trumpeter. 



34. Mount Street. 



JOACHIN, THE FRENCH AMBASSADOR. 



(Vol. ii., p. 229.) 

 Your correspondent Amicus will I fear find 

 very little information about this mysterious per- 

 son in the writers of French hislory of the time. 



