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19 KiB
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227 lines
19 KiB
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<title> R. Pockrich</title>
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<h3>R. Pockrich</h3>
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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Richard Pockrich (c.1690-1759) (also spelled Pockeridge, Pockridge, Pokeridge, and Puckeridge) was born at his family's estate about 1690. Although of English descent on his father's side, his family had long been settled in north Ireland-at Derrylusk, Co. Monaghan, where they had their estate and extensive property. His father had raised and commanded an independent company during the Williamite wars (for the Irish throne), fought through "the late happy revolution," and was dangerously wounded at the siege of Athlone in 1690.<a href="#tthFtNtAAB" name="tthFrefAAB"><sup>1</sup></a>
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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His son Richard inherited an estate from him, worth £1000 per year according to Newburgh<a href="#tthFtNtAAC" name="tthFrefAAC"><sup>2</sup></a>, and £4000 per year according to Pilkington<a href="#tthFtNtAAD" name="tthFrefAAD"><sup>3</sup></a>. Either way, Pockrich-or 'Captain Pockrich' as he preferred to be called-seems to have entirely dissipated his inheritance on a long list of schemes:
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<ul>
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<li> In 1715 he settled in Dublin and established a brewery and distillery at Islandbridge, but the venture failed. When, later in life, he competed for the Royal Dublin Society's premium for the best barrel of ale, and lost, his contemporaries said that he "consoled himself by philosophically and courageously drinking his own brew."<a href="#tthFtNtAAE" name="tthFrefAAE"><sup>4</sup></a>
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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</li>
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<li> He sought to reclaim the bogs of Ireland by draining them and planting vineyards. Pockrich wrote pamplets in support of his theories, and tried to interest Parliament and the public in them without success.<a href="#tthFtNtAAF" name="tthFrefAAF"><sup>5</sup></a>
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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</li>
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<li> He spent a large sum of money raising geese on several thousand acres of barren mountainous land, and declared that if properly encouraged he could supply the whole of the markets of Ireland, Great Britain and France.<a href="#tthFtNtAAG" name="tthFrefAAG"><sup>6</sup></a>
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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</li>
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<li> He was something of an astrologer, and talked of building an observatory on one of the Wicklow hills for astrological purposes.<a href="#tthFtNtAAH" name="tthFrefAAH"><sup>7</sup></a>s
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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</li>
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<li> He thought the drum had vast musical possibilities, and planned an orchestra of drums, twenty in number, varying in size and tone, which were to placed in a circle, and to be played by one person standing in the center and striking the drums as required.<a href="#tthFtNtAAI" name="tthFrefAAI"><sup>8</sup></a>
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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</li>
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<li> He proposed to build unsinkable ships of metal for the maritime powers, and to supply each man-of-war with 500 tin boats which, he said, would float under any or all circumstances, and would prove invaluable in cases of shipwreck or collision. (Ships of his day were of course of entirely wooden construction. Metal hulled ships didn't appear until the 1870's.)
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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</li>
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<li> He planned to provide everyone with a pair of wings for flying. He held that the day would come-and soon, if he obtained the necessary capital-when men and women would never dream of walking; when, as Newburgh says "it might be as common for men to call for their wings as now for their boots."<a href="#tthFtNtAAJ" name="tthFrefAAJ"><sup>9</sup></a>
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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</li>
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<li> He ran for Parliament-twice-and failed. (1745 and 1749).<a href="#tthFtNtABA" name="tthFrefABA"><sup>10</sup></a>
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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</li>
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<li> The project which excited Pockrich the most was his plans for blood transfusions. He declared that he could-by connecting a sick or old person with a healthy or young one (such as "strong healthy cook maid, or a kitchen wench"<a href="#tthFtNtABB" name="tthFrefABB"><sup>11</sup></a>) by a pipe or tube-to revive the former by improving their blood to the degree that death would be virtually unknown.<a href="#tthFtNtABC" name="tthFrefABC"><sup>12</sup></a>
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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</li>
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<li> He also had a plan for rejuvenating wrinkled skin:
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<blockquote>
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Take common brown paper, steep it in vinegar, then apply it to the forehead, the skin about the eyes, or any other winkled part; let it lie on some time, every half hour renewing the application. The wrinkles not only disappear, but the cheeks glow with a vermeil that excels the power of paint.<a href="#tthFtNtABD" name="tthFrefABD"><sup>13</sup></a>
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</blockquote>
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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</li>
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</ul>
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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Pockrich married Margaret White<a href="#tthFtNtABE" name="tthFrefABE"><sup>14</sup></a> in 1745-each believing the other had money, and both were wrong. In 1748 his wife ran away with Theophilus Cibber, the theatrical celebrity, but the boat which carried them to Scotland was shipwrecked, and the elopers were lost with everyone else on board.<a href="#tthFtNtABF" name="tthFrefABF"><sup>15</sup></a>
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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Pockrich himself was to pass away a year later. He was on one of his musical tours through England, and happened to be lodging at Hamlin's Coffee House, Sweeting's Alley, near the Royal Exchange, London, when a disastrous fire broke out (some say it originated in Pockrich's room), destroying several houses and Pockrich as well.<a href="#tthFtNtABG" name="tthFrefABG"><sup>16</sup></a>
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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One of Pockrich's 'schemes' actually succeeded after all-the musical glasses. Grattan<a href="#tthFtNtABH" name="tthFrefABH"><sup>17</sup></a> says that he invented them in 1741.
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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Apparently Pockrich's musical glasses came to his aid when bailiffs arrived at his brewery to arrest him (perhaps for debtor's prison)?:
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<blockquote>Mr. Pockrich, in his brewery near Island-bridge, happening one day to be seized by bailiffs, thus addressed them: 'Gentlemen, I am your prisoner but before I do myself the honour to attend you, give me leave as an humble performer of musick, to entertain you with a tune.' 'Sir,' replies one of the bailiffs, 'we come here to execute our warrant, not to hear tunes.' 'Gentlemen,' says the Captain, 'I submit to your authority, but in the interim, while you are only taking a dram, ... Here Jack' calling to his servant, 'bring a bottle of the Ros Solis I lately distilled: I say Gentlemen, before you take a dram I shall dispatch my tune.' In the meantime he flourishes a prelude on the glasses, and afterwards displays his skill through all the pleasing turns and variations of the 'Black Joke'. The monsters, charmed with the magick of his sounds, for some time stand at gaze. At length, recovering [sic] their trance, thus accost the Captain: 'Sir, upon your parole of honour to keep the secret, we give you your liberty.' 'Tis well, playing upon the glasses is not more common: if it were, I believe our trade would find little employment.<a href="#tthFtNtABI" name="tthFrefABI"><sup>18</sup></a>
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</blockquote>
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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John Carteret Pilkington<a href="#tthFtNtABJ" name="tthFrefABJ"><sup>19</sup></a> briefly collaborated with Pockrich and gives us a detailed description of the adventure in his autobiography. After a terrible sea voyage, and broke, he meets Pockrich while sitting in a pub <a href="#tthFtNtACA" name="tthFrefACA"><sup>20</sup></a>:
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<blockquote>I then called for some warm punch, and before I had drank two glasses, a tall middle-aged gentleman entered, with a big wig and a sword on. .... In the course of some general chat, I mentioned my singing at the concert in Cork; upon this he eagerly said, why, can you sing? I told him I believed I could: he begged I would just hum a tune to give him an idea of my voice and manner; when I did, he cry'd, bravo! Bravo! By G-d, I'll make your fortune...
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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You must know, sir, that I am a gentleman who has run thro' a plentiful estate in schemes, for the publick good; ... In the more gay and happy hours of my life, I studied musick as an amusement, and am, perhaps, the best master of harmony in the known world; of this I will give you an immediate demonstration: saying so, he pulled from his sleeve sixteen large pins, and from his pocket a small hammer; with this he drove the pins into a deal table, all ranged one above the other, and some almost in as far as the heads: he then took from his side pocket two pieces of brass wire, and demanded what tune I would have: I told him the Black Joke: then lay your ear to the table, says he, hear and admire: I did so, and to my infinite amazement, he played it with all its variations, so as to sound somewhat like a dulcimer.
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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Encouraged by the applauses I gave to this uncommon instrument, he took a parcel of drinking glasses, and tuned them, by putting different quantities of water in each: upon these he layed a number of the newest tunes in the most elegant taste, giving me delight and satisfaction. <20> said he, I have at home glasses as large as bells of my own invention, that have a sound as loud as an organ, but more delicate and pleasing to the ear: now, Sir, as we are both gentlemen, and both possessed of excellence in the science of musick, if we unite together, we must make a fortune...
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</blockquote>
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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Pockrich called his instrument the <i>Angelic Organ</i>.<a href="#tthFtNtACB" name="tthFrefACB"><sup>21</sup></a> They proceed to Pockrich's house; on the strength of their 'future earnings' Pockrich 'borrows' from Pilkington the fare for the coach. Pockrich goes on to explain that his current lodgings are the only ones he could find where his extensive musical activities wouldn't disturb the neighbors; then Pockrich strikes a light ...
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<blockquote>... which revealed to my eyes the most litter'd dirty hole I had ever yet seen: the furniture consisted of an old taudry bed, one rush bottom chair, a frame with a number of large glasses ranged on it, and the case of a violincello. I believe the Captain observed the dismay in my looks, and in order to comfort me, said, that he had made the people take all superfluous things out of the room, and that he never suffered a servant to clean it, lest their damn'd mops and brushes would break his glasses.
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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He then set down and played Handel's water musick<a href="#tthFtNtACC" name="tthFrefACC"><sup>22</sup></a>, and several other pieces, on the glasses, that indeed made some amends for the wretched appearance of every thing about him.<a href="#tthFtNtACD" name="tthFrefACD"><sup>23</sup></a>
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</blockquote>
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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With no other options, Pilkington decides to continue with Pockrich's plan. They rehearse and plan their program, and finally the big day arrives:
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<blockquote>The songs I was to sing at my first appearance were fixed upon, and every thing got in readiness for the important event; when I hoped my patience and long suffering would meet some reward, for by this time two months had sneaked away: at length the hour arrived. The Taylors hall was finely illuminated, the newspapers filled with encomiums on the angelick organ, every publick corner was covered with large bills, and tickets dispersed amongst the nobility. About three hours before the concert was to begin, the Captain went to arrange and tune his glasses, when unfortunately stepping out for some water, a large unmannerly sow entered, and, oh! Guess the rest!-threw down the whole machine, and covered the ground with glittering fragments; destroying not only the hopes of the publick, but ours of a present and future subsistence. When the Captain returned, and found his lofty castle in the air reduced to an heap of rubbish, he looked just like Mark Anthony, when he beholds the body of Julius Caesar on the earth, and says:
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<blockquote>
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Oh! Might Caesar, dost thou lie so low?
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</blockquote>
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He, however, supported the catastrophe with a dignity and heroism peculiar to great minds; and without staying for the company, desired the door-keepers would inform the world of the melancholy event, returning himself once more to his gloomy abode.<a href="#tthFtNtACE" name="tthFrefACE"><sup>24</sup></a>
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</blockquote>
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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After this Pilkington and Pockrich part company. They have a few chance encounters in the future, but no further collaborations.
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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At the time of this narrative Pockrich is still playing his glasses by striking them with sticks:
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<blockquote>Colonel Newburgh ... was endeavoring to give Baron Dawson, a gentleman of true wit and humour, an idea of Pockridge's instrument, by telling he runs two sticks along the glasses, and by that means played distinct tunes; but, says the Colonel, except you were to see and hear it, you can have but little concept of its excellence; oh! But I have, said the Baron, 'tis like a blackguard boy, trailing a stick along iron rails.<a href="#tthFtNtACF" name="tthFrefACF"><sup>25</sup></a>
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</blockquote>
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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Pockrich did switch to the 'wet-finger-around-the-wine-glass' at some point<a href="#tthFtNtACG" name="tthFrefACG"><sup>26</sup></a>, although it is unclear when that occurred.
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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We leave the good Captain with Newburgh's poetic elegy:
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<blockquote>Mourn him, ye bogs, in tears discharge your tides,<br />
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No more shall Pockrich tap your spongy hides;<br />
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Ye geese, ye ganders, cackle doleful lays,<br />
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No more his mountain tops your flocks shall graze;<br />
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Be silent, dumb, ye late harmonious glasses-<br />
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Free from surprise, serenely sleep, ye lasses.<br />
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Let drums, unbraced, in hollow murmurs tell<br />
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How he that waked their thunders silent fell.<br />
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Let tempests swell the surge, no more his boat,<br />
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Secure from wreck, shall on the billows float;<br />
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No more, ye sons of Nappy, shall his beer<br />
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Or nut-brown ale your dropping spirits cheer,<br />
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To his own castles, built sublime in air,<br />
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Quitting his geese and bogs and glassy care,<br />
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With blood infused, and, like a meteor bright,<br />
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On his own pinions, Pock has winged his flight.<a href="#tthFtNtACH" name="tthFrefACH"><sup>27</sup></a>
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</blockquote>
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<hr align=left size=1 width="33%" />
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtAAB"></a><a href="#tthFrefAAB"><sup>1</sup></a>O'Donahue (1899), 13-14
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtAAC"></a><a href="#tthFrefAAC"><sup>2</sup></a>Newburgh (1759)???
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtAAD"></a><a href="#tthFrefAAD"><sup>3</sup></a>Pilkington (1760/1762)???
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtAAE"></a><a href="#tthFrefAAE"><sup>4</sup></a>O'Donahue (1899), 14
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtAAF"></a><a href="#tthFrefAAF"><sup>5</sup></a>O'Donahue (1899), 14
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtAAG"></a><a href="#tthFrefAAG"><sup>6</sup></a>O'Donahue (1899), 15
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtAAH"></a><a href="#tthFrefAAH"><sup>7</sup></a>O'Donahue (1899), 15
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtAAI"></a><a href="#tthFrefAAI"><sup>8</sup></a>O'Donahue (1899), 16
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtAAJ"></a><a href="#tthFrefAAJ"><sup>9</sup></a>???, quoted in O'Donahue (1899), 17
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtABA"></a><a href="#tthFrefABA"><sup>10</sup></a>O'Donahue (1899), 17
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtABB"></a><a href="#tthFrefABB"><sup>11</sup></a>Pilkington (1760/1762), 63
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtABC"></a><a href="#tthFrefABC"><sup>12</sup></a>O'Donahue (1899), 20
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtABD"></a><a href="#tthFrefABD"><sup>13</sup></a>O'Donahue (1899), 22
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtABE"></a><a href="#tthFrefABE"><sup>14</sup></a>widow of Francis White, Esq.
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtABF"></a><a href="#tthFrefABF"><sup>15</sup></a>O'Donahue (1899), 18
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtABG"></a><a href="#tthFrefABG"><sup>16</sup></a>O'Donahue (1899), 23
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtABH"></a><a href="#tthFrefABH"><sup>17</sup></a>Grattan (1914), ???
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtABI"></a><a href="#tthFrefABI"><sup>18</sup></a>Newburgh (1759), ???
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtABJ"></a><a href="#tthFrefABJ"><sup>19</sup></a>???check Oxford Dictionary of National Biography
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtACA"></a><a href="#tthFrefACA"><sup>20</sup></a>Pilkington (1760/1762), 57ff
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtACB"></a><a href="#tthFrefACB"><sup>21</sup></a>Pilkington (1760/1762), 59
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtACC"></a><a href="#tthFrefACC"><sup>22</sup></a>premiered in 1717, so this narrative must take place after that date
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtACD"></a><a href="#tthFrefACD"><sup>23</sup></a>Pilkington (1760/1762), 60
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtACE"></a><a href="#tthFrefACE"><sup>24</sup></a>Pilkington (1760/1762), 66ff
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtACF"></a><a href="#tthFrefACF"><sup>25</sup></a>Pilkington (1760/1762), 65
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtACG"></a><a href="#tthFrefACG"><sup>26</sup></a>according to Benjamin Franklin. See his letter to Beccaria, July 1762[???]
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<div class="p"><!----></div>
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<a name="tthFtNtACH"></a><a href="#tthFrefACH"><sup>27</sup></a>???Essays, quoted from O'Donahue (1899), 24
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version 3.74.<br />On 04 Nov 2006, 18:09.</small>
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