Chapter XXII…

Chapter XXII

........“Mark! He who would cut the knot that does entwine And link two loving hearts in unison, May have man's form; but at his birth, be sure on't, Some devil thrust sweet nature's hand aside Ere she had pour'd her balm within his breast, To warm his gross and earthly mould with pity.

.......I know what 'tis When worldly knaves step in with silver beards, To poison bliss, and pluck young souls asunder.”

TOM and his Cousin were surprised the next morning by a visit from Mr. Mortimer and his friend Merrywell, whose dismal features and long visages plainly indicated some unpleasant disaster, and Tom began to fear blame would be attached to them for leaving his party at Darkhouse Lane.

“Pray,” said Merrywell, “can you tell me where to find your friend Sparkle?”

“Indeed,” replied Dashall, a little relieved by this question, “I am not Sparkle's keeper; but pray be seated--what is the matter, is it a duel, do you want a second?--I know he is a good shot.”

“This levity, Sir,” said Mortimer, “is not to be borne. The honour of a respectable family is at stake, and must be satisfied. No doubt you, as his very oldest friend, know where he is; and I desire you will immediately inform me, or------”

“Sir,” said Dashall, who was as averse as unused to be desired by any person--“do you know whom you address, and that I am in my own house? if you do, you have certainly discarded all propriety of conduct and language before you cross'd the threshold.”

“Gentlemen,” said Merrywell, “perhaps some explanation is really necessary here. My friend Mortimer speaks under agonized feelings, for which, I am sure, your good sense will make every allowance. Miss Mortimer------”

“Miss Mortimer,” exclaimed Dashall, rising from his ~352~~ seat, “you interest me strongly, say, what of Miss Mortimer?”

“Alas,” said Mortimer, evidently endeavouring to suppress emotions which appeared to agitate his whole frame, and absorb every mental faculty, “we are unable to account for her absence, and strongly suspect she is in company with your friend Sparkle--can you give us any information relative to either of them?”

Dashall assured them he knew nothing of the fugitives, but that he would certainly make every inquiry in his power, if possible to find out Sparkle. Upon which they departed, though not without hinting they expected Tom had the power of making a search more effectually than either Mortimer or Merrywell.

“Egad!” said Tom to Tallyho, “this absence of Sparkle means something more than I can at present conceive; and it appears that we must now venture forth in search of our guide. I hope he has taken a good direction himself.”

“Mortimer appears hurt,” continued Bob, “and I can scarcely wonder at it.”

“It is a trifle in high life now-a-days,” replied Dashall, “and my life for it we shall obtain some clue to his mode of operation before the day is out. Love is a species of madness, and oftentimes induces extraordinary movements. I have discovered its existence in his breast for some time past, and if he is really with the lady, I wonder myself that he has not given some sort of intimation; though I know he is very cautious in laying his plans, and very tenacious of admitting too many persons to know his intentions, for fear of some indiscreet friend unintentionally frustrating his designs.”

“I apprehend we shall have a wild-goose chase of it,” rejoined Bob.

“It serves however,” continued Tom, “to diversify our peregrinations; and if it is his pleasure to be in love, we will endeavour to chase pleasure in pursuit of the Lover, and if guided by honourable motives, which I cannot doubt, we will wish him all the success he can wish himself, only regretting that we are deprived of his agreeable company.

“Still free as air the active mind will rove, And search out proper objects for its love; But that once fix'd, 'tis past the pow'r of art To chase the dear idea from the heart. 'Tis liberty of choice that sweetens life, Makes the glad husband and the happy wife.”

~353~~ “But come, let us forth and see how the land lies; many persons obtain all their notoriety from an elopement; it makes a noise in the world, and even though frequently announced in our newspapers under fictitious titles, the parties soon become known and are recollected ever after; and some even acquire fame by the insertion of a paragraph announcing an elopement, in which they insinuate that themselves are parties; so that an elopement in high life may be considered as one of the sure roads to popularity.”

“But not always a safe one,” replied Bob.

“Life is full of casualties,” rejoined Dashall, “and you are by this time fully aware that it requires something almost beyond human foresight to continue in the line of safety, while you are in pursuit of Real Life in London. Though it may fairly be said, 'That all the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely passengers,' still they have their inside and their outside places, and each man in his time meets with strange adventures. It may also very properly be termed a Camera Obscura, reflecting not merely trees, sign-posts, houses, &c. but the human heart in all its folds, its feelings, its passions, and its motives. In it you may perceive conceit flirting its fan--arrogance adjusting its cravat--pedantry perverting its dictionary--vacuity humming a tune--vanity humming his neighbour--cunning shutting his eyes while listening to a pedagogue--and credulity opening his eyes and ears, willing and anxious to be deceived and duped.”

“It is a strange world, indeed,” said Tallyho; “and of all that I have ever heard or seen, this London of your's is the most extraordinary part.”

“Yes,--

“This world is a well-cover'd table, Where guests are promiscuously set; We all eat as long as we're able, And scramble for what we can get--”

answered his Cousin; “in fact, it is like every thing, and at the same time like nothing--~354~~

“The world is all nonsense and noise, Fantoccini, or Ombres Chinoises, Mere pantomime mummery Puppet-show flummery; A magical lantern, confounding the sight;

Like players or puppets, we move On the wires of ambition and love; Poets write wittily, Maidens look prettily, 'Till death drops the curtain --all's over--good night!”

By this time they were at Long's, where, upon inquiry, all trace of Sparkle had been lost for two days. All was mystery and surprise, not so much that he should be absent, as that his servant could give no account of him, which was rather extraordinary. Tom ascertained, however, that no suspicion appeared to have been excited as to Miss Mortimer, and, with commendable discretion, avoided expressing a word which could create such an idea, merely observing, that most likely he had taken an unexpected trip into the country, and would be heard of before the day was out.

On leaving Long's however they were met again by Mortimer in breathless anxiety, evidently labouring under some new calamity.

“I am glad I have found you,” said he, addressing himself to Dashall; “for I am left in this d------d wilderness of a place without a friend to speak to.”

“How,” inquired Ton, “what the d------l is the matter with you?”

“Why, you must know that Merry well is gone--”

“Gone--where to?”

“To--to--zounds, I've forgot the name of the people; but two genteel looking fellows just now very genteely told him he was wanted, and must come.”

“Indeed!”

“Yes, and he told me to find you out, and let you know that he must become a bencher; and, without more todo, walked away with his new friends, leaving me forlorn enough. My Sister run away, my Uncle run after her--Sparkle absent, and Merrywell--”

“In the hands of the Nab-men--I see it all clear enough; and you have given a very concise, but comprehensive picture of your own situation; but don't despair, man, you will yet find all right, be assured; put yourself under my guidance, let the world wag as it will; it is useless to torment yourself with things you cannot prevent or cure.

“The right end of life is to live and be jolly.”

~355~~ Mortimer scarcely knew how to relish this advice, and seemed to doubt within himself whether it was meant satirically or feelingly, till Dashall whispered in his ear a caution not to betray the circumstances that had transpired, for his Sister's sake. “But,” continued he, “I never suffer these things, which are by no means uncommon in London, to interfere with my pursuits, though we are all somewhat at a loss. However, as the post is in by this time, some news may be expected, and we will call at home before we proceed any further.--Where do you think the Colonel is gone to?”

“Heaven only knows,” replied Mortimer; “the whole family is in an uproar of surmise and alarm,--what may be the end of it I know not.”

“A pretty breeze Master Sparkle has kick'd up, indeed,” continued Tom; “but I have for some time noticed an alteration in him. He always was a gay trump, and whenever I find him seriously inclined, I suspect some mischief brewing; for rapid transitions always wear portentous appearances, and your serious files are generally sly dogs. My life for it they have stolen a march upon your Uncle, queered some country Parson, and are by this time snugly stowed away in the harbour of matrimony. As for Merrywell, I dare be sworn his friends will take care of him.”

Expectation was on tiptoe as Dashall broke the seal of a letter that was handed to him on arrival at home. Mortimer was on the fidget, and Tallyho straining his neck upon the full stretch of anxiety to hear the news, when Dashall burst into a laugh, but in which neither of the others could join in consequence of not knowing the cause of it. In a few minutes however the mystery was in some degree explained.

“Here,” said Tom, “is news--extraordinary news--an official dispatch from head-quarters, but without any information as to where the tents are pitched. It is but a short epistle.” He then read aloud,

“Dear Dashall,

“Please inform the Mortimer family and friends that all's well.

Your's truly,

C. Sparkle.”

Then handing the laconic epistle to Mortimer--“I trust,” said he, “you will now be a little more at ease.”

~356~~ Mortimer eagerly examined the letter for the postmark, but was not able to make out from whence it came.

“I confess,” said he, “I am better satisfied than I was, but am yet at a loss to judge of the motives which have induced them to pursue so strange a course.”

“The motive,” cried Tom, “that may be easily explained; and I doubt not but you will find, although it may at present appear a little mysterious, Sparkle will be fully able to shew cause and produce effect. He is however a man of honour and of property, and most likely we may by this time congratulate you upon the change of your Sister's name. What a blaze it will make, and she will now most certainly become a sparkling subject. Hang it, man, don't look so dull upon a bright occasion.

“To prove pleasure but pain, some have hit on a project, We're duller the merrier we grow, Exactly the same unaccountable logic That talks of cold fire and warm snow.

For me, born by nature For humour and satire, I sing and I roar and I quaff; Each muscle I twist it, I cannot resist it, A finger held up makes me laugh.

For since pleasure's joy's parent, and joy begets mirth, Should the subtlest casuist or sophist on earth Contradict me, I'd call him an ass and a calf, And boldly insist once for all, That the only criterion of pleasure's to laugh, And sing tol de rol, loi de rol lol.”

This mirth of Dash all's did not seem to be in consonance with the feelings of Mortimer, who hastily took his departure.

“Come,” said Tom to his Cousin, “having gained some information respecting one friend, we will now take a stroll through Temple Bar, and have a peep at Merrywell; he may perhaps want assistance in his present situation, though I will answer for it he is in a place of perfect security.”

“How,” said Bob--“what do you mean?”

“Mean, why the traps have nibbled him. He is arrested, and gone to a lock-up shop, a place of mere accommodation for gentlemen to take up their abode, for the purpose of ~357~~ arranging their affairs, and where they can uninterruptedly make up their minds whether to give bail, put in appearance and defend the suit, or take a trip to Abbott's Priory; become a three months' student in the college of art, and undergo the fashionable ceremony of white-washing.”

“I begin to understand you now,” said Bob, “and the only difference between our two friends is, that one has willingly put on a chain for life--”

“And the other may in all probability (continued Tom,) have to chaff his time away with a chum--perhaps not quite so agreeable, though it really is possible to be very comfortable, if a man can reconcile himself to the loss of liberty, even in “durance vile.”

By this time they were walking leisurely along Piccadilly,

“And marching without any cumbersome load, They mark'd every singular sight on the road.”

“Who is that meagre looking man and waddling woman, who just passed us?” inquired Tallyho.

“An old Bencher,” was the reply; “there you see all that is left of a man of haut ton, one who has moved in the highest circles; but alas! bad company and bad play have reduced him to what he now is. He has cut up and turn'd down very well among the usurers and attornies; but it is impossible to say of him, as of his sirloin of a wife (for she cannot be called a rib, or at all events a spare rib) that there is any thing like cut and come again. The poor worn-out Exquisite tack'd himself to his Lady, to enable him to wipe out a long score, and she determined on taking him for better for worse, after a little rural felicity in a walk to have her fortune told by a gipsy at Norwood. He is now crippled in pocket and person, and wholly dependent upon bounty for the chance of prolonging a miserable existence. His game is up. But what is life but a game, at which every one is willing to play? one wins and another loses: why there have been as many moves among titled persons, Kings, Queens, Bishops, Lords and Knights, within the last century, as there are in a game at chess. Pawns have been taken and restored in all classes, from the Sovereign, who pawns or loses his crown, to the Lady whose reputation is in pawn, and becomes at last not worth half a crown. Shuffling, cutting, dealing out and ~358~~ dealing in, double dealing and double faces, have long been the order of the day. Some men's cards are all trumps, whilst others have carte blanche; some honours count, whilst others stand for nothing. For instance, did not the little man who cast up his final accounts a short time back at St. Helena, like a Corsican conjurer, shuffle and cut about among kings and queens, knaves and asses, (aces I mean) dealing out honours when he liked, and taking trumps as he thought fit?--did he not deal and take up again almost as he pleased, having generally an honour in his sleeve to be played at command, or un roi dans le marche; by which cheating, it was scarcely possible for any one to get fair play with him, till, flushed by success, and not knowing how to bear his prosperity, he played too desperately and too long? The tables were turned upon him, and his enemies cheated him, first of his liberty, and ultimately of his life.”

At this moment Tallyho, who was listening in close attention to his Cousin, struck his foot against a brown paper parcel which rolled before him.--“Hallo!” exclaimed he, “what have we here?--somebody has dropped a prize.”

“It is mine, Sir,” said an old woman, dropping them a curtsey with a smile which shone through her features, though thickly begrimed with snuff.

“A bite,” said Tom.

“I dropp'd it from my pocket, Sir, just now.”

“And pray,” inquired Tom, “what does it contain?” picking it up.

“Snuff, Sir,” was the reply; “a kind, good-hearted Gentleman gave it to me--God bless him, and bless your Honour too!” with an additional smile, and a still lower curtsey.

Upon examining the paper, which had been broken by the kick, Tom perceived, that by some magic or other, the old woman's snuff had become sugar.

“Zounds!” said he, “they have played some trick upon you, and given you brimstone instead of snuff, or else you are throwing dust in our eyes.”

The parcel, which contained a sample of sugar, was carefully rolled up again and tied, then dropped to be found by any body else who chose to stoop for it.

“This,” said Dashall, “does not turn out to be what I first expected; for the practices of ring and money ~359~~ dropping{1} have, at various times, been carried on with great success, and to the serious injury of the unsuspecting. The persons who generally apply themselves to this species of cheating are no other than gamblers who ingeniously contrive, by dropping a purse or a ring, to draw in some customer with a view to induce him to play; and notwithstanding their arts have frequently been exposed, we every now and then hear of some flat being done by these sharps, and indeed there are constantly customers in London to be had one way or another.”

“Then you had an idea that that parcel was a bait of this kind,” rejoined Bob.

“I did,” replied his Cousin; “but it appears to be a legitimate letter from some industrious mechanic to his friend, and is a curious specimen of epistolary correspondence; and you perceive there was a person ready to claim it, which conspired rather to confirm my suspicions, being a little in the style of the gentry I have alluded to. They vary their mode of proceeding according to situation and circumstance. Your money-dropper contrives to find his own property, as if by chance. He picks up the purse with an exclamation of 'Hallo! what have we here?--Zounds! if here is not a prize--I'm in rare luck to-day--Ha, ha, ha, let's have a peep at it--it feels heavy, and no doubt is worth having.' While he is examining its contents, up comes his confederate, who claims a share on account of having been present at the finding. 'Nay, nay,' replies the finder, 'you are not in it. This Gentleman is the only person that was near me--was not you, Sir? 'By this means the novice is induced to assent, or perhaps assert his prior claim. The finder declares,

1 The practice of ring-dropping is not wholly confined to London, as the following paragraph from the Glasgow Courier, a very short time ago, will sufficiently prove:--'On Monday afternoon, when three Highland women, who had been employed at a distance from home in the harvest, were returning to their habitations, they were accosted by a fellow who had walked out a short way with them, 'till he picked up a pair of ear-rings and a key for a watch. The fellow politely informed the females that they should have half the value of the articles, as they were in his company when they were found. While they were examining them, another fellow came up, who declared at once they were gold, and worth at least thirty shillings. After some conversation, the women were induced to give fifteen shillings for the articles, and came and offered them to a watch-maker for sale, when they learned to their mortification that they were not worth eighteen pence!'

~360~~ that sooner than have any dispute about it, he will divide the contents in three parts; recommends an adjournment to a public-house in the neighbourhood, to wet the business and drink over their good luck. This being consented to, the leading points are accomplished. The purse of course is found to contain counterfeit money--Flash-screens or Fleet-notes,{1} and the division cannot well be made without change can be procured. Now comes the touch-stone. The Countryman, for such they generally contrive to inveigle, is perhaps in cash, having sold his hay, or his cattle, tells them he can give change; which being understood, the draught-board, cards, or la bagatelle, are introduced, and as the job is a good one, they can afford to sport some of their newly-acquired wealth in this way. They drink and play, and fill their grog again. The Countryman bets; if he loses, he is called upon to pay; if he wins, 'tis added to what is coming to him out of the purse.

“If, after an experiment or two, they find he has but little money, or fight shy, they bolt, that is, brush off in quick time, leaving him to answer for the reckoning. But if he is what they term well-breeched, and full of cash, they stick to him until he is cleaned out,{2} make him drunk, and, if he turns restive, they mill him. If he should be an easy cove,{3} he perhaps give them change for their flash notes, or counterfeit coin, and they leave him as soon as possible, highly pleased with his fancied success, while they laugh in their sleeves at the dupe of their artifice.”

“And is it possible?” inquired Tallyho--

“Can such things be, and overcome us Like a summer's cloud?”

“Not without our special wonder,” continued Dashall; “but such things have been practised. Then again, your ring-droppers, or practisers of the fawney rig, are more cunning in their manoeuvres to turn their wares into the ready blunt.{4} The pretending to find a ring being one of the meanest and least profitable exercises of their ingenuity, it forms a part of their art to find articles of much more

1 Flash-screens or Fleet-notes--Forged notes.

2 Cleaned out--Having lost all your money.

3 Easy cove--One whom there is no difficulty in gulling.

4 Ready blunt--Cash in hand.

~361~~ value, such as rich jewelry, broaches, ear-rings, necklaces set with diamonds, pearls, &c. sometimes made into a paper parcel, at others in a small neat red morocco case, in which is stuck a bill of parcels, giving a high-flown description of the articles, and with an extravagant price. Proceeding nearly in the same way as the money-droppers with the dupe, the finder proposes, as he is rather short of steeven,{1} to swap{2}his share for a comparatively small part of the value stated in the bill of parcels: and if he succeeds in obtaining one-tenth of that amount in hard cash, his triumph is complete; for, upon examination, the diamonds turn out to be nothing but paste--the pearls, fishes' eyes--and the gold is merely polished brass gilt, and altogether of no value. But this cannot be discovered beforehand, because the bilk{3} is in a hurry, can't spare time to go to a shop to have the articles valued, but assures his intended victim, that, as they found together, he should like to smack the bit,{4 }without blowing the gap,{5} and so help him G--d, the thing wants no buttering up,{6} because he is willing to give his share for such a trifle.”

1 Steeven--A flash term for money.

2 Swap--To make an exchange, to barter one article for another.

3 A swindler or cheat.

4 Smack the bit--To share the booty.

5 Blowing the gap--Making any thing known.

6 Buttering up--Praising or flattering.

This conversation was suddenly interrupted by a violent crash just behind them, as they passed Drury Lane Theatre in their way through Bussel Court; and Bob, upon turning to ascertain from whence such portentous sounds proceeded, discovered that he had brought all the Potentates of the Holy Alliance to his feet. The Alexanders, the Caesars, the Buonapartes, Shakespeares, Addisons and Popes, lay strewed upon the pavement, in one undistinguished heap, while a poor Italian lad with tears in his eyes gazed with indescribable anxiety on the shapeless ruin--' Vat shall me do?--dat man knock him down--all brokt--you pay--Oh! mine Godt, vat shall do! ' This appeal was made to Dashall and Tallyho, the latter of whom the poor Italian seemed to fix upon as the author of his misfortune in upsetting his board of plaster images; and although he was perfectly unconscious of the accident, the appeal of the vender of great personages had its desired effect upon them both; and ~362~~ finding themselves quickly surrounded by spectators, they gave him some silver, and then pursued their way.

“These men,” said Dashall, “are generally an industrious and hard-living people; they walk many miles in the course of a day to find sale for their images, which they will rather sell at any price than carry back with them at night; and it is really wonderful how they can make a living by their traffic.”

“Ha, ha, ha,” said a coarse spoken fellow following--“how the Jarman Duck diddled the Dandies just now--did you twig how he queered the coves out of seven bob for what was not worth thrums.{1} The Yelper{2} did his duty well, and finger'd the white wool{3} in good style. I'm d------d if he was not up to slum, and he whiddied their wattles with the velvet, and floored the town toddlers easy enough.”

“How do you mean?” said his companion.

“Why you know that foreign blade is an ould tyke about this quarter, and makes a good deal of money--many a twelver{4} does he get by buying up broken images of persons who sell them by wholesale, and he of course gets them for little or nothing: then what does he do but dresses out his board, to give them the best appearance he can, and toddles into the streets, touting{5} for a good customer. The first genteel bit of flash he meets that he thinks will dub up the possibles,{6} he dashes down the board, breaks all the broken heads, and appeals in a pitiful way for remuneration for his loss; so that nine times out of ten he gets some Johnny-raw or other to stump up the rubbish.”

“Zounds!” said Dashall, “these fellows are smoking us; and, in the midst of my instructions to guard you against the abuses of the Metropolis, we have ourselves become the dupes of an impostor.”

1 Thrums--A flash term for threepence.

2 The Yelper--A common term given to a poor fellow subject, who makes very pitiful lamentations on the most trifling accidents.

3 White wool--Silver.

4 Twelver--A shilling.

5 Touting--Is to be upon the sharp look out.

6 To dub up the possibles--To stand the nonsense--are nearly synonimous, and mean--will pay up any demand rather than be detained.

~363~~ “Well,” said Tallyho, “it is no more than a practical illustration of your own observation, that it is scarcely possible for any person to be at all times secure from the arts and contrivances of your ingenious friends the Londoners; though I confess I was little in expectation of finding you, as an old practitioner, so easily let in.”

“It is not much to be wondered at,” continued Tom, “for here we are in the midst of the very persons whose occupations, if such they may be termed, ought most to be avoided; for Covent Garden, and Drury Lane, with their neighbourhoods, are at all times infested with swindlers, sharpers, whores, thieves, and depredators of all descriptions, for ever on the look out. It is not long since a man was thrown from a two-pair of stairs window in Charles Street,{1} which is just by, having been decoyed into a house of ill fame by a Cyprian, and this in a situation within sight of the very Police Office itself in Bow Street!”

“Huzza! ha, ha, ha, there he goes,” vociferated by a variety of voices, now called their attention, and put an end to their conversation; and the appearance of a large concourse of people running up Drury Lane, engrossed their notice as they approached the other end of Russel Court.

On coming up with the crowd, they found the cause of the vast assemblage of persons to be no other than a Quaker{2} decorated with a tri-coloured cockade, who was

1 A circumstance of a truly alarming and distressing nature, to which Dashall alluded in this place, was recently made known to the public in the daily journals, and which should serve as a lesson to similar adventurers.

It appeared that a young man had been induced to enter a house of ill fame in Charles Street, Covent Garden, by one of its cyprian inmates, to whom he gave some money in order for her to provide them with supper; that, upon her return, he desired to have the difference between what he had given and what she had expended returned to him, which being peremptorily refused, he determined to leave the house. On descending the stair-case for which purpose, he was met by some men, with whom he had a violent struggle to escape; they beat and bruised him most unmercifully, and afterwards threw him from a two-pair of stairs window into the street, where he was found by the Watchman with his skull fractured, and in a state of insensibility. We believe all attempts have hitherto proved fruitless to bring the actual perpetrator or perpetrators of this diabolical deed to punishment.

2 Bow-street.--Thursday morning an eccentric personage, who has for some time been seen about the streets of the Metropolis in the habit of a Quaker, and wearing the tri- coloured cockade in his broad white hat, made his appearance at the door of this office, and presenting a large packet to one of the officers, desired him, in a tone of authority, to lay it instantly before the Magistrate. The Magistrate (G. R. Minshull, Esq.) having perused this singular paper, inquired for the person who brought it; and in the next moment a young man, in the garb of a Quaker, with a broad- brimmed, peaceful-looking, drab-coloured beaver on his head, surmounted by a furious tri-coloured cockade, was brought before him. This strange anomalous ' personage having placed himself very carefully directly in front of the bench, smiled complacently upon his Worship, and the following laconic colloquy ensued forthwith:--

Magistrate--Did you bring this letter?

Quaker--Thou hast said it.

Magistrate---What is your object in bringing it?

Quaker--Merely to let thee know what is going on in the world--and, moreover, being informed that if I came to thy office, I should be taken into custody, I was desiroiis to ascertain whether that information was true.

Magistrate--Then I certainly shall not gratify you by ordering you into custody.

Quaker--Thou wilt do as seemeth right in thy eyes. I assure thee I have no inclination to occupy thy time longer than is profitable to us, and therefore I will retire whenever thou shalt signify that my stay is unpleasant to thee.

Magistrate--Why do you wear your hat?--are you a Quaker?

Quaker--Thou sayest it--but that is not my sole motive for wearing it. To be plain with thee, I wear it because I chose to do so. Canst thee tell me of any law which compels me to take it off?

Magistrate--I'll tell you what, friend, I would seriously recommend you to retire from this place as speedily as possible.

Quaker--I take thy advice--farewell.

Thus ended this comical conversation, and the eccentric friend immediately departed in peace.

The brother of the above person attended at the office on Saturday, and stated that the Quaker is insane, that he was proprietor of an extensive farm near Ryegate, in Surrey, for some years; but that in May last his bodily health being impaired, he was confined for some time, and on his recovery it was found that his intellects were affected, and he was put under restraint, but recovered. Some time since he absconded from Ryegate, and his friends were unable to discover him, until they saw the account of his eccen- tricities in the newspapers. Mr. Squire was desirous, if he made his appearance again at the office, he should be detained. The Magistrate, as a cause for the detention of the Quaker, swore the brother to these facts. About three o'clock the Quaker walked up Bow-street, when an officer conducted him to the presence of the Magistrate, who detained him, and at seven o'clock delivered him into the care of his brother.

~365~~ very quietly walking with a Police Officer, and exhibiting a caricature of himself mounted on a velocipede, and riding over corruption, &c. It was soon ascertained that he had accepted an invitation from one of the Magistrates of Bow Street to pay him a visit, as he had done the day before, and was at that moment going before him.

“I apprehend he is a little cracked,” said Tom; “but however that may be, he is a very harmless sort of person. But come, we have other game in view, and our way lies in a different direction to his.”

“Clothes, Sir, any clothes to-day?” said an importunate young fellow at the corner of one of the courts, who at the same time almost obstructed their passage.

Making their way as quickly as they could from this very pressing personage, who invited them to walk in.

“This,” said Tom, “is what we generally call a Barker. I believe the title originated with the Brokers in Moor-fields, where men of this description parade in the fronts of their employers' houses, incessantly pressing the passengers to walk in and buy household furniture, as they do clothes in Rosemary Lane, Seven Dials, Field Lane, Houndsditch, and several other parts of the town. Ladies' dresses also used to be barked in Cranbourn Alley and the neighbourhood of Leicester Fields; however, the nuisance has latterly in some measure abated. The Shop-women in that part content themselves now-a-days by merely inviting strangers to look at their goods; but Barkers are still to be found, stationed at the doors of Mock Auctions, who induce company to assemble, by bawling “Walk in, the auction is now on,” or “Just going to begin.” Of these mock auctions, there have been many opened of an evening, under the imposing glare of brilliant gas lights, which throws an unusual degree of lustre upon the articles put up for sale. It is not however very difficult to distinguish them from the real ones, notwithstanding they assume all the exterior appearances of genuineness, even up to advertisements in the newspapers, purporting to be held in the house of a person lately gone away under embarrassed circumstances, or deceased. They are denominated Mock Auctions, because no real intention exists on the part of the sellers to dispose of their articles under a certain price previously fixed upon, which, although it may not be high, is invariably more than they are actually worth: besides which, they may be easily discovered by the anxiety they evince to show the goods to strangers at

~366~~the moment they enter, never failing to bestow over-strained panegyrics upon every lot they put up, and asking repeatedly--“What shall we say for this article? a better cannot be produced;” and promising, if not approved of when purchased, to change it. The Auctioneer has a language suited to all companies, and, according to his view of a customer, can occasionally jest, bully, or perplex him into a purchase.--“The goods must be sold at what they will fetch;” and he declares (notwithstanding among his confederates, who stand by as bidders, they are run up beyond the real value, in order to catch a flat,) that “the present bidding can never have paid the manufacturer for his labour.”

In such places, various articles of silver, plate, glass and household furniture are exposed to sale, but generally made up of damaged materials, and slight workmanship of little intrinsic value, for the self-same purpose as the Razor-seller states--

“Friend, (cried the Razor-man) I'm no knave; As for the razors you have bought, Upon my soul! I never thought That they would shave.”

“Not shave!” quoth Hodge, with wond'ring eyes, And voice not much unlike an Indian yell; “What were they made for then, you dog?” he cries. “Made! (quoth the fellow with a smile) to sell.”

Passing the end of White Horse Yard--“Here,” continued Tom, “in this yard and the various courts and alleys which lead into it, reside numerous Girls in the very lowest state of prostitution; and it is dangerous even in the day time to pass their habitations, at all events very dangerous to enter any one of them. Do you see the crowd of squalid, half-clad and half-starved creatures that surround the old woman at the corner?--Observe, that young thing without a stocking is stealing along with a bottle in one hand and a gown in the other; she is going to put the latter up the spout{1} with her

1 Up the spout, or up the five--Are synonimous in their import, and mean the act of pledging property with a Pawnbroker for the loan of money--most probably derived from the practice of having a long spout, which reaches from the top of the house of the Pawn-broker (where the goods are deposited for safety till redeemed or sold) to the shop, where they are first received; through which a small bag is dropped upon the ringing of a bell, which conveys the tickets or duplicates to a person above stairs, who, upon finding them, (unless too bulky) saves himself the trouble and loss of time of coming down stairs, by more readily conveying them down the spout.

~367~~ accommodating Uncle,{1} in order to obtain a little of the enlivening juice of the juniper to fill the former.”

1 Uncle, sometimes called the Ferrit, or the Flint--Cant terms for Pawnbroker, though many of these gentlemen now assume the more reputable appellation of Silversmiths. They are willing to lend money upon all sorts of articles of household furniture, linen, plate, wearing apparel, jewellery, &c. with a certainty of making a very handsome profit upon the money so circulated.

There are in this Metropolis upwards of two hundred and thirty Pawnbrokers, and in some cases they are a useful and serviceable class of people; and although doubtless many of them are honest and reputable persons, there are still among them a class of sharpers and swindlers, who obtain licences to carry on the business, and bring disgrace upon the respectable part of the profession. Every species of fraud which can add to the distresses of those who are compelled to raise temporary supplies of money is resorted to, and for which purpose there are abundance of opportunities. In many instances however the utility of these persons, in preventing a serious sacrifice of property, cannot be denied; for, by advancing to tradesmen and mechanics temporary loans upon articles of value at a period of necessity, an opportunity of redeeming them is afforded, when by their industrious exertions their circumstances are improved. Many of them however are receivers of stolen good.s, and, under cover of their licence, do much harm to the public. Indeed, the very easy mode of raising money by means of the Pawnbrokers, operates as an inducement, or at least an encouragement, to every species of vice. The fraudulent tradesman by their means is enabled to raise money on the goods of his creditors, the servant to pledge the property of his employer, and the idle or profligate mechanic to deposit his working tools, or his work in an unfinished state. Many persons in London are in the habit of pawning their apparel from Monday morning till Saturday night, when they are redeemed, in order to make a decent appearance on the next day. In low neighbourhoods, and among loose girls, much business is done by Pawnbrokers to good advantage; and considerable emolument is derived from women of the town. The articles they offer to pledge are generally of the most costly nature, and the pilferings of the night are usually placed in the hands of an Uncle the next morning; and the wary money-lenders, fully acquainted with their necessities, just lend what they please; by which means they derive a wonderful profit, from the almost certainty of these articles never being redeemed.

The secresy with which a Pawnbroker's business is conducted, though very proper for the protection of the honest and well-meaning part of the population, to shield them from an exposure which might perhaps prove fatal to their business or credit, admits of great room for fraud on the part of the Money-lender; more particularly as it respects the interest allowed upon the pawns. Many persons are willing to pay any charge made, rather than expose their necessities by appearing before a Magistrate, and acknowledging they have been concerned in such transactions.

Persons who are in the constant habit of pawning are generally known by the Pawnbrokers, in most instances governed by their will, and compelled to take and pay just what they please. Again, much injury arises from the want of care in the Pawnbroker to require a proper account, from the Pledgers, of the manner in which the goods offered have been obtained, as duplicates are commonly given upon fictitious names and residences.

Notwithstanding the care and attention usually paid to the examination of the articles received as pledges, these gentlemen are sometimes to be duped by their customers. We remember an instance of an elderly man, who was in the habit of bringing a Dutch clock frequently to a Pawnbroker to raise the wind, and for safety, generally left it in a large canvass bag, till he became so regular a customer, that his clock and bag were often left without inspection; and as it was seldom deposited for long together, it was placed in some handy nook of the shop in order to lie ready for redemption. This system having been carried on for some time, no suspicion was entertained of the old man. Upon one occasion however the Pawnbroker's olfactory nerves were saluted with a smell of a most unsavoury nature, for which he could by no means account--day after day passed, and no discovery was made, till at length he determined to overhaul every article in his shop, and if possible discover the source of a nuisance which appeared rather to increase than abate: in doing which, to his utter astonishment, he found the old man's Dutch clock trans-formed into a sheep's head, enclosed in a small box similar in shape and size to that of the clock. It will scarcely be necessary to add, that, being in the heat of summer, the sheep's head when turned out was in a putrid state, and as green as grass. The Pawn-broker declared the old gentleman's works were out of repair, that he himself was out of tune, and eventually pledged himself never to be so taken in again. After all, however, it must be acknowledged that my Uncle is a very accommodating man.

“My Uncle's the man, I've oft said it before, Who is ready and willing to open his door; Tho' some on the question may harbour a doubt, He's a mill to grind money, which I call a spout. Derry down.

He has three golden balls which hang over his door, Which clearly denote that my Uncle's not poor; He has money to lend, and he's always so kind, He will lend it to such as leave something behind. Derry down.

If to music inclin'd, there's no man can so soon Set the hooks of your gamut to excellent tune; All his tickets are prizes most carefully book'd, And your notes must be good, or you're presently hook'd. Derry down.

Shirts, shoes, and flat-irons, hats, towels, and ruffs, To him are the same as rich satins or stuffs; From the pillows you lay on, chairs, tables, or sacks, He'll take all you have, to the togs on your backs. Derry down.

Then ye who are needy, repair to your friend, Who is ready and willing your fortunes to mend; He's a purse full of rhino, and that's quite enough, Tho' short in his speech, he can shell out short stuff. Derry down.

What a blessing it is, in this place of renown To know that we have such an Uncle in town; In all cases, degrees, in all places and stations, 'Tis a good thing to know we've such friendly relations. Derry down.

“Surely,” said Tallyho, “no person could possibly be inveigled by her charms?”

~369~~ “They are not very blooming just now,” answered his Cousin--“you do not see her in a right light. It is impossible to contemplate the cases of these poor creatures without dropping a tear of pity. Originally seduced from a state of innocence, and eventually abandoned by their seducers, as well as their well-disposed parents or friends, they are left at an early age at large upon the world; loathed and avoided by those who formerly held them in estimation, what are they to do?--It is said by Shakespeare, that

“Sin will pluck on sin.”

They seem to have no alternative, but that of continuing in the practice which they once too fatally begun, in which the major part of them end a short life of debauchery and wretchedness.

“Exposed to the rude insults of the inebriated and the vulgar--the impositions of brutal officers and watchmen--to the chilling blasts of the night during the most inclement weather, in thin apparel, partly in compliance with the fashion of the day, but more frequently from the

~370~~ Pawnbroker's shop rendering their necessary garments inaccessible, diseases (where their unhappy vocation does not produce them) are thus generated.

“Many are the gradations from the highest degree of prostitution down to the trulls that parade the streets by day, and one or two more steps still include those who keep out all night. Some of the miserable inhabitants of this quarter are night-birds, who seldom leave their beds during the day, except to refresh themselves with a drop of Old Tom; but as the evening approaches, their business commences, when you will see them decked out like fine ladies, for there are coves of cases,{1} and others in the vicinity of the Theatres, who live by letting out dresses for the evening, where they may be accommodated from a camesa{2} to a richly embroidered full-dress court suit, under the care of spies, who are upon the look-out that they don't brush off with the stock. Others, again, are boarded and lodged by the owners of houses of ill-fame, kept as dirty and as ragged as beggars all day, but who,

“Dress'd out at night, cut a figure.”

It however not unfrequently happens to those unhappy Girls who have not been successful in their pursuits, and do not bring home with them the wages of their prostitution, that they are sent to bed without supper, and sometimes get a good beating into the bargain; besides which, the Mistress of the house takes care to search them immediately after they are left by their gallants, by which means they are deprived of every shilling.”

Approaching the City, they espied a crowd of persons assembled together round the door of Money the perfumer. Upon inquiring, a species of depreciation was exposed, which had not yet come under their view.

It appeared that a note, purporting to come from a gentleman at the Tavistock Hotel, desiring Mr. Money to wait on him to take measure of his cranium for a fashionable peruke, had drawn him from home, and that during his absence, a lad, in breathless haste, as if dispatched by the principal, entered the shop, stating that Sir. Money wanted a wig which was in the window, with some combs and hair-brushes, for the Gentleman's inspection, and also a pot of his Circassian cream. The bait took, the articles

1 Coves of cases--Keepers of houses of ill fame.

2 Camesa--A shirt or shift.

~371~~ were packed up, and the wily cheat had made good his retreat before the return of the coiffeur, who was not pleased with being seduced from his home by a hoaxing letter, and less satisfied to find that his property was diminished in his absence by the successful artifices of a designing villain. This tale having got wind in the neighbourhood, persons were flocking round him to advise as to the mode of pursuit, and many were entertaining each other by relations of a similar nature; but our heroes having their friend Merrywell in view (or rather his interest) made the best of their way to the Lock-up-house.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XXIII

“The world its trite opinion holds of those That in a world apart these bars enclose; And thus methinks some sage, whose wisdom frames Old saws anew, complacently exclaims, Debt is like death--it levels all degrees; Their prey with death's fell grasp the bailiffs seize.”

ON entering the Lock-up House, Bob felt a few uneasy sensations at hearing the key turned. The leary Bum-trap ushered the Gemmen up stairs, while Tallyho was endeavouring to compose his agitated spirits, and reconcile himself to the prospect before him, which, at the moment, was not of the most cheering nature.

“What, my gay fellow,” said Merry well, “glad to see you--was just going to scribble a line to inform you of my disaster. Zounds! you look as melancholy as the first line of an humble petition, or the author of a new piece the day after its damnation.”

“In truth,” replied Bob, “this is no place to inspire a man with high spirits.”

“That's as it may be,” rejoined Merry well; “a man with money in his pocket may see as much Real Life in London within these walls as those who ramble at large through the mazes of what is termed liberty.”

“But,” continued Tom, “it must be admitted that the views are more limited.”

“By no means,” was the reply. “Here a man is at perfect liberty to contemplate and cogitate without fear of being agitated. Here he may trace over past recollections, and enjoy future anticipations free from the noise and bustle of crowded streets, or the fatigue of attending fashionable routs, balls, and assemblies. Besides which, it forms so important a part of Life in London, that few without a residence in a place of this kind can imagine its utility. It invigorates genius, concentrates ingenuity, and stimulates invention.”

~373~~ “Hey dey!” said Tallyho, looking out of the window, and perceiving a dashing tandem draw up to the door--“who have we here? some high company, no doubt.”

“Yes, you are right; that man in the great coat, who manages his cattle with such dexterity, is no other than the king of the castle. He is the major domo, or, in other words, the Bailiff himself. That short, stout-looking man in boots and buckskins, is his assistant, vulgarly called his Bum.{1} The other is a Gentleman desirous of lodging in a genteel neighbourhood, and is recommended by them to take up his residence here.”

“What,” inquired Bob, “do Bailiffs drive gigs and tandems?”

“To be sure they do,” was the reply; “formerly they were low-bred fellows, who would undertake any dirty business for a maintenance, as you will see them represented in the old prints and caricatures, muffled up in Îreat coats, and carrying bludgeons; but, in present Real life, you will find them quite the reverse, unless they find it necessary to assume a disguise in order to nibble a queer cove who proves shy of their company'; but among Gentlemen, none are so stylish, and at the same time so accommodating--you are served with the process in a private and elegant way, and if not convenient to come to an immediate arrangement, a gig is ready in the highest taste, to convey you from your habitation to your place of retirement, and you may pass through the most crowded streets of the city, and recognise your friends, without fear of suspicion. Upon some occasions, they will also carry their politeness so far as to inform an individual he will be wanted on such a day, and must come--a circumstance which has the effect of preventing any person from knowing the period of departure, or the place of destination; consequently, the arrested party is gone out of town for a few days, and the matter all blows over without any injury sustained. This is the third time since I have been in the house that the tandem has started from the door, and returned with a new importation.”

By this time, the gig having been discharged of its cargo, was reascended by the Master and his man, and bowl'd off again in gay style for the further accommodation of fashionable friends, whose society was in such high

1 See Bum-trap), page 166.

~374~~ estimation, that no excuse or denial could avail, and who being so urgently wanted, must come.

“'Tis a happy age we live in,” said Merry well; “the improvements are evident enough; every thing is done with so much facility and gentility, that even the race of bailiffs are transformed from frightful and ferocious-looking persons to the most dashing, polite and accommodating characters in the world. He however, like others, must have his assistant, and occasional substitute.

“A man in this happy era is really of no use whatever to himself. It is a principle on which every body, that is any body, acts, that no one should do any thing for himself, if he can procure another to do it for him. Accordingly, there is hardly the most simple performance in nature for the more easy execution of which an operator or machine of some kind' or other is not employed or invented; and a man who has had the misfortune to lose, or chuses not to use any of his limbs or senses, may meet with people ready to perform all their functions for him, from paring his nails and cutting his corns, to forming an opinion. No man cleans his own teeth who can afford to pay a dentist; and hundreds get their livelihood by shaving the chins and combing the hair of their neighbours, though many, it must be admitted, comb their neighbour's locks for nothing. The powers of man and the elements of nature even are set aside, the use of limbs and air being both superseded by steam; in short, every thing is done by proxy--death not excepted, for we are told that our soldiers and sailors die for us. Marriage in certain ranks is on this footing. A prince marries by proxy, and sometimes lives for ever after as if he thought all the obligations of wedlock were to be performed in a similar manner. A nobleman, it is true, will here take the trouble to officiate in the first instance in person; but there are plenty of cases to shew that nothing is further from his noble mind than the idea of continuing his slavery, while others can be found to take the labour off his hands. So numerous are the royal roads to every desideratum, and so averse is every true gentleman from doing any thing for himself, that it is to be dreaded lest it should grow impolite to chew one's own victuals; and we are aware that there are great numbers who, not getting their share of Heaven's provision, may be said to submit to have their food eat for them.”

~375~~ Tallyho laugh'd, and Dashall signified his assent to the whimsical observations of Merrywell, by a shrug of the shoulders and an approving smile.

“Apropos,” said Merrywell--“what is the news of our friend Sparkle?”

“O, (replied Tom) he is for trying a chance in the Lottery of Life, and has perhaps by this time gained the prize of Matrimony:{1} but what part of the globe he inhabits it is impossible for me to say--however, he is with Miss Mortimer probably on the road to Gretna.”

“Success to his enterprise,” continued Merrywell; “and if they are destined to travel through life together, may they have thumping luck and pretty children. Marriage to some is a bitter cup of continued misery--may the reverse be his lot.”

“Amen,” responded Dashall.

“By the way,” said Merrywell, “I hope you will favour me with your company for the afternoon, and I doubt not we shall start some game within these walls well worthy of pursuit; and as I intend to remove to more commodious apartments within a day or two, I shall certainly expect to have a visit from you during my abode in the county of Surrey.”

“Going to College?” inquired Tom.

“Yes; I am off upon a sporting excursion for a month or two, and I have an idea of making it yield both pleasure and profit. An occasional residence in Abbot's Park is one of the necessary measures for the completion of a Real Life in London education. It is a fashionable retreat absolutely necessary, and therefore I have voluntarily determined upon it. What rare advice a young man may pick up in the precincts of the Fleet and

1 It has often been said figuratively, that marriage is a lottery; but we do not recollect to have met with a practical illustration of the truth of the simile before the following, which is a free translation of an Advertisement in the Louisiana Gazette:--

“A young man of good figure and disposition, unable though “desirous to procure a Wife without the preliminary trouble of “amassing a fortune, proposes the following expedient to obtain the “object of his wishes:--He offers himself as the prize of a Lottery “to all Widows and Virgins under 32: the number of tickets to be “600 at 50 dollars each; but one number to be drawn from the “wheel, the fortunate proprietor of which is to be entitled to “himself and the 30,000 dollars.”--New York, America.

~376~~ the King's Bench! He may soon learn the art of sharp-shooting and skirmishing.”

“And pray,” says Tallyho, “what do you term skirmishing?”

“I will tell you,” was the reply. “When you have got as deeply in debt every where as you can, you may still remain on the town as a Sunday-man for a brace of years, and with good management perhaps longer. Next you may toddle off to Scotland for another twelvemonth, and live in the sanctuary of Holyrood House, after seeing the North, where writs will not arrive in time to touch you. When tired of this, and in debt even in the sanctuary, and when you have worn out all your friends by borrowing of them to support you in style there, you can brush off on a Sunday to the Isle of Man, where you are sure to meet a parcel of blades who will be glad of your company if you are but a pleasant fellow. Here you may live awhile upon them, and get in debt (if you can, for the Manx-men have very little faith,) in the Island. From this, you must lastly effect your escape in an open boat, and make your appearance in London as a new face. Here you will find some flats of your acquaintance very glad to see you, even if you are indebted to them, from the pleasures of recollection accruing from past scenes of jollity and merriment. You must be sure to amuse them with a good tale of a law-suit, or the declining health of a rich old Uncle, from either of which you are certain of deriving a second fortune. Now manage to get arrested, and you will find some, who believe your story, ready to bail you. You can then put off these actions for two years more, and afterwards make a virtue of surrendering yourself in order to relieve your friends, who of course will begin to be alarmed, and feel so grateful for this supposed mark of propriety, that they will support you for a while in prison, until you get white-washed. In all this experience, and with such a long list of acquaintances, it will be hard if some will not give you a lift at getting over your difficulties. Then you start again as a nominal Land-surveyor, Money-scrivener, Horse-dealer, or as a Sleeping-partner in some mercantile concern--such, for instance, as coals, wine, &c. Your popularity and extensive acquaintance will get your Partner a number of customers, and then if you don't succeed, you have only to become a Bankrupt, secure your certificate, and start free again in some other line. Then ~377~~ there are other good chances, for a man may marry once or twice. Old or sickly women are best suited for the purpose, and their fortunes will help you for a year or two at least, if only a thousand or two pounds. Lastly, make up a purse» laugh at the flats, and finish on the Continent.”

“Very animated description indeed,” cried Dashall, “and salutary advice, truly.”

“Too good to be lost,” continued Merrywell.

“And yet rather too frequently acted on, it is to be feared.”

“Probably so--”

“But mark me, this is fancy's sketch,” and may perhaps appear a little too highly coloured; but if you remain with me, we will clip deeper into the reality of the subject by a little information from the official personage himself, who holds dominion over these premises; and we may perhaps also find some agreeable and intelligent company in his house.”

This proposition being agreed to, and directions given accordingly by Merrywell to prepare dinner, our party gave loose to opinions of life, observations on men and mariners, exactly as they presented themselves to the imagination of each speaker, and Merrywell evidently proved himself a close observer of character.

“Places like this,” said he, “are generally inhabited by the profligate of fashion, the ingenious artist, or the plodding mechanic. The first is one who cares not who suffers, so he obtains a discharge from his incumberances: having figured away for some time in the labyrinths of folly and extravagance, till finding the needful run taper, he yields to John Doe and Richard Roe as a matter of course, passes through his degrees in the study of the laws by retiring to the Fleet or King's Bench, and returns to the world with a clean face, and an increased stock of information to continue his career. The second are men who have heads to contrive and hands to execute improvements in scientific pursuits, probably exhausting their time, their health, and their property, in the completion of their projects, but who are impeded in their progress, and compelled to finish their intentions in durance vile, by the rapacity of their creditors. And the last are persons subjected to all the casualties of trade and the arts of the former, and unable to meet the peremptory demands of ~378~~ those they are indebted to; but they seldom inhabit these places long, unless they can pay well for their accommodations. Money is therefore as useful in a lock-up-house or a prison as in any other situation of life.

“Money, with the generality of people, is every thing; it is the universal Talisman; there is magic in its very name. It ameliorates all the miserable circumstances of life, and the sound of it may almost be termed life itself. It is the balm, the comfort, and the restorative. It must indeed be truly mortifying to the opulent, to observe that the attachment of their dependents, and even the apparent esteem of their friends, arises from the respect paid to riches. The vulgar herd bow with reverence and respect before the wealthy; but it is in fact the money, and not the individual, which they worship. Doubtless, a philosophic Tallow-chandler would hasten from the contemplation of the starry heavens to vend a farthing rushlight; and it therefore cannot be wondered at that the Sheriffs-officer, who serves you with a writ because you have not money enough to discharge the just demands against you, should determine at least to get as much as he can out of you, and, when he finds your resources exhausted, that he should remove you to the common receptacle of debtors; which however cannot be done to your own satisfaction without some money; for if you wish a particular place of residence, or the most trifling accommodation, there are fees to pay, even on entering a prison.”

“In that case then,” said Tallyho, “a man is actually obliged to pay for going to a prison.”

“Precisely so, unless he is willing to mingle with the very lowest order of society. But come, we will walk into the Coffee-room, and take a view of the inmates.”

Upon entering this, which was a small dark room, they heard a great number of voices, and in one corner found several of the prisoners surrounding a Bagatelle-board, and playing for porter, ale, &c; in another corner was a young man in close conversation with an Attorney; and a little further distant, was a hard-featured man taking instructions from the Turnkey how to act. Here was a poor Player, who declared he would take the benefit of the Act, and afterwards take a benefit at the Theatre to reestablish himself. There a Poet racking his imagination, and roving amidst the flowers of fancy, giving a few touches by way of finish to an Ode to Liberty, with the ~379~~ produce of which he indulged himself in a hope of obtaining the subject of his Muse. The conversation was of a mingled nature. The vociferations of the Bagatelle-players--the whispers of the Attorney and his Client--and the declarations of the prisoner to the Turnkey, “That he would be d------d if he did not sarve 'em out, and floor the whole boiling of them,” were now and then interrupted by the notes of a violin playing the most lively airs in an animated and tasteful style. The Performer however was not visible, but appeared to be so near, that Merrywell, who was a great lover of music, beckoned his friends to follow him. They now entered a small yard at the back of the house, the usual promenade of those who resided in it, and found the Musician seated on one of the benches, which were continued nearly round the yard, and which of itself formed a panorama of rural scenery. Here was the bubbling cascade and the lofty fountain--there the shady grove of majestic poplars, and the meandering stream glittering in the resplendent lustre of a rising sun. The waving foliage however and the bubbling fountain were not to be seen or heard, (as these beauties were only to be contemplated in the labours of the painter;) but to make up for the absence of these with the harmony of the birds and the ripplings of the stream, the Musician was endeavouring, like an Arcadian shepherd with his pipe, to make the woods resound with the notes of his fiddle, surrounded by some of his fellow-prisoners, who did not fail to applaud his skill and reward his kindness, by supplying him with rosin, as they termed it, which was by handing him the heavy-wet as often as they found his elbow at rest. In one place was to be seen a Butcher, who upon his capture was visited by his wife with a child in her arms, upon whom the melody seemed to have no effect. She was an interesting and delicate-looking woman, whose agitation of spirits upon so melancholy an occasion were evidenced by streaming tears from a pair of lovely dark eyes; and the Butcher, as evidently forgetful of his usual calling, was sympathising with, and endeavouring to soothe her into composure, and fondling the child. In another, a person who had the appearance of an Half-pay Officer, with Hessian boots, blue pantaloons, and a black silk handkerchief, sat with his arms folded almost without taking notice of what was passing around him, though a rough Sailor with a pipe in his mouth occasionally ~380~~ enlivened the scene by accompanying the notes of the Musician with a characteristic dance, which he termed a Horn-spike.

It was a fine scene of Real Life, and after taking a few turns in the gardens of the Lock-up or Sponging-house, they returned to Merrywell's apartments, which they had scarcely entered, when the tandem drew up to the door.

“More company,” said Merry well.

“And perhaps the more the merrier,” replied Tom.

“That is as it may prove,” was the reply; “for the company of this house ace as various at times as can be met with in any other situation. However, this appears to wear the form of one of our fashionable, high-life Gentlemen; but appearances are often deceitful, we shall perhaps hear more of him presently--he may turn out to be one of the prodigals who calculate the duration of life at about ten years, that is, to have a short life and a merry one.”

“That seems to me to be rather a short career, too,” exclaimed Bob.

“Nay, nay, that is a long calculation, for it frequently cannot be made to last half the number. In the first place, the Pupil learns every kind of extravagance, which he practises en maitre the two next years. These make an end of his fortune. He lives two more on credit, established while his property lasted. The next two years he has a letter of licence, and contrives to live by ways and means (for he has grown comparatively knowing.) Then he marries, and the wife has the honour of discharging his debts, her fortune proving just sufficient for the purpose. Then he manages to live a couple of years more on credit, and retires to one of his Majesty's prisons.”

By this time Mr. Safebind made his appearance, and with great politeness inquired if the Gentlemen were accommodated in the way they wished? Upon being assured of this, and requested to take a seat, after some introductory conversation, he gave them the following account of himself and his business:--

“We have brought nine Gemmen into the house this morning; and, though I say it, no Gemman goes out that would have any objection to come into it again.”

Tallyho shrugg'd up his shoulders in a way that seemed to imply a doubt.

~381~~ “For,” continued he, “a Gemman that is a Gemman shall always find genteel treatment here. I always acts upon honour and secrecy; and if as how a Gemman can't bring his affairs into a comfortable shape here, why then he is convey'd away without exposure, that is, if he understands things.”

With assurances of this kind, the veracity of which no one present could doubt, they were entertained for some time by their loquacious Host, who, having the gift of the gab,{1} would probably have continued long in the same strain of important information; when dinner was placed on the table, and they fell to with good appetites, seeming almost to have made use of the customary grace among theatricals.{2}

“The table cleared, the frequent glass goes round, And joke and song and merriment abound.”

“Your house,” said Dashall, “might well be termed the Temple of the Arts, since their real votaries are so frequently its inhabitants.”

“Very true, Sir,” said Safebind, “and as the Poet observes, it is as often graced by the presence of the devotees to the Sciences: in point of company he says we may almost call it multum in parvo, or the Camera Obscura of Life. There are at this time within these walls, a learned Alchymist, two Students in Anatomy, and a Physician--a Poet, a Player, and a Musician. The Player is an adept at mimicry, the Musician a good player, and the Poet no bad stick at a rhyme; all anxious to turn their talents to good account, and, when mingled together, productive of harmony, though the situation they are in at present is rather discordant to their feelings; but then you know 'tis said, that discord is the soul of harmony, and they knocked up a duet among themselves yesterday, which I thought highly amusing.”

“I am fond of music,” said Merry well--“do you think they would take a glass of wine with us?”

1 Gift of the gab--Fluency of speech.

2 It is a very common thing among the minor theatricals, when detained at rehearsals, &c. to adjourn to some convenient room in the neighbourhood for refreshment, and equally common for them to commence operations in a truly dramatic way, by ex-claiming to each other in the language of Shakespeare,

“Come on, Macbeth--come on, Macduff, And d-----d be he who first cries--hold, enough.”

~382~~ “Most readily, no doubt,” was the reply. “I will introduce them in a minute.” Thus saying, he left the room, and in a very few minutes returned with the three votaries of Apollo, who soon joined in the conversation upon general subjects. The Player now discovered his loquacity; the Poet his sagacity; and the Musician his pertinacity, for he thought no tones so good as those produced by himself, nor no notes--we beg pardon, none but bank notes--equal to his own.

It will be sufficient for our present purpose to add, that the bottle circulated 'quickly, and what with the songs of the Poet, the recitations of the Player, and the notes of the Fiddler, time, which perfects all intellectual ability, and also destroys the most stupendous monuments of art, brought the sons of Apollo under the table, and admonished Dashall and his Cousin to depart; which they accordingly did, after a promise to see their friend Merry well in his intended new quarters.~383~~

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XXIV

“All nations boast some men of nobler mind, Their scholars, heroes, benefactors kind: And Britain has her share among the rest, Of men the wisest, boldest and the best: Yet we of knaves and fools have ample share, And eccentricities beyond compare. Full many a life is spent, and many a purse, In mighty nothings, or in something worse.”

THE next scene which Tom was anxious to introduce to his Cousin's notice was that of a Political Dinner; but while they were preparing for departure, a letter arrived which completely satisfied the mind of the Hon. Tom Dashall as to the motives and views of their friend Sparkle, and ran as follows:

“Dear Dashall,

“Having rivetted the chains of matrimony on the religious anvil of Gretna Green, I am now one of the happiest fellows in existence. My election is crowned with success, and I venture to presume all after-petitions will be rejected as frivolous and vexatious. The once lovely Miss Mortimer is now the ever to be loved Mrs. Sparkle. I shall not now detain your attention by an account of our proceedings or adventures on the road: we shall have many more convenient opportunities of indulging in such details when we meet, replete as I can assure you they are with interest.

“I have written instructions to my agent in town for the immediate disposal of my paternal estate in Wiltshire, and mean hereafter to take up my abode on one I have recently purchased in the neighbourhood of Belville Hall, where I anticipate many pleasurable opportunities of seeing you and our friend Tallyho surrounding my hospitable and (hereafter) family board. We shall be there within a month, as we mean to reach our place of destination by easy stages, and look about us.

“Please remember me to all old friends in Town, and believe as ever,

Your's truly,

“Charles Sparkle.”

“Carlisle.”

~384 ~~ The receipt of this letter and its contents were immediately communicated to young Mortimer, who had already received some intelligence of a similar nature, which had the effect of allaying apprehension and dismissing fear for his Sister's safety. The mysterious circumstances were at once explained, and harmony was restored to the previously agitated family.

“I am truly glad of this information,” said Tom, “and as we are at present likely to be politically engaged, we cannot do less than take a bumper or two after dinner, to the health and happiness of the Candidate who so emphatically observes, he has gained his election, and, in the true language of every Patriot, declares he is the happiest man alive, notwithstanding the rivets by which he is bound.”

“You are inclined to be severe,” said Tallyho.

“By no means,” replied Dashall; “the language of the letter certainly seems a little in consonance with my observation, but I am sincere in my good wishes towards the writer and his amiable wife. Come, we must now take a view of other scenes, hear long speeches, drink repeated bumpers, and shout with lungs of leather till the air resounds with peals of approbation.

“We shall there see and hear the great men of the nation, Or at least who are such in their own estimation.”

“Great in the name a patriot father bore, Behold a youth of promise boldly soar, Outstrip his fellows, clamb'ring height extreme, And reach to eminence almost supreme. With well-worn mask, and virtue's fair pretence, And all the art of smooth-tongued eloquence, He talks of wise reform, of rights most dear, Till half the nation thinks the man sincere.”

“Hey day,” said Tallyho, “who do you apply this to?”

“Those who find the cap fit may wear it,” was the reply--”

I leave it wholly to the discriminating few who can discover what belongs to themselves, without further comment.”

~385~~ By this time they had arrived at the Crown and Anchor Tavern, in the Strand, where they found a great number of persons assembled, Sir F. B------ having been announced as President. In a few minutes he was ushered into the room with all due pomp and ceremony, preceded by the Stewards for the occasion, and accompanied by a numerous body of friends, consisting of Mr. H------, Major C------, and others, though not equally prominent, equally zealous. During dinner time all went on smoothly, except in some instances, where the voracity of some of the visitors almost occasioned a chopping off the fingers of their neighbours; but the cloth once removed, and 'Non nobis Domine' sung by professional Gentlemen, had the effect of calling the attention of the company to harmony. The Band in the orchestra played, 'O give me Death or Liberty'--'Erin go brach'--'Britons strike home'--and 'Whilst happy in my native Land.' The Singers introduced 'Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled'--'Peruvians wake to Glory'--and the 'Tyrolese Hymn.' But the spirit of oratory, enlivened by the fire of the bottle, exhibited its illuminating sparks in a blaze of lustre which eclipsed even the gas lights by which they were surrounded; so much so, that the Waiters themselves became confused, and remained stationary, or, when they moved, were so dazzled by the patriotic effusions of the various Speakers, that they fell over each other, spilt the wine in the pockets of the company, and, by making afterwards a hasty retreat, left them to fight or argue between each other for supposed liberties taken even by their immediate friends.

Unbridled feelings of patriotic ardour appeared to pervade every one present; and what with the splendid oratory of the speakers, and the deafening vociferations of the hearers, at the conclusion of what was generally considered a good point, a sufficient indication of the feelings by which they were all animated was evinced.

At the lower end of the table sat a facetious clerical Gentleman, who, unmindful of his ministerial duties, was loud in his condemnation of ministers, and as loud in his approbation of those who gave them what he repeatedly called a good hit. But here a subject of great laughter occurred; for Mr. Marrowfat, the Pea-merchant of Covent-Garden, and Mr. Barrowbed, the Feathermonger of Drury Lane, in their zeal for the good cause, arising at the same moment, big with ardour and sentiment, to address the ~386~~ Chair on a subject of the most momentous importance in their consideration, and desirous to signalize themselves individually, so completely defeated their objects by over anxiety to gain precedence, that they rolled over each other on the floor, to the inexpressible amusement of the company, and the total obliteration of their intended observations; so much so, that the harangue meant to enlighten their friends, ended in a fine colloquy of abuse upon each other.

The bottles, the glasses, and the other paraphernalia of the table suffered considerable diminution in the descent of these modern Ciceros, and a variety of speakers arising upon their downfall, created so much confusion, that our Heroes, fearing it would be some time before harmony could be restored, took up their hats and walked.

“Now,” said Dashall, as they left the house, “you have had a full view of the pleasantries of a Political Dinner; and having seen the characters by which such an entertainment is generally attended, any further account of them is almost rendered useless.”

“At least,” replied Tallyho, “I have been gratified by the view of some of the leading men who contribute to fill up the columns of your London Newspapers.”

“Egad!” said his Cousin, “now I think of it, there is a tine opportunity of amusing ourselves for the remainder of the evening by a peep at another certain house in Westminster: whether it may be assimilated, in point of character or contents, to what we have just witnessed, I shall leave you, after taking a review, to determine.”

“What do you mean?” inquired Tallyho.

“Charley's, my boy, that's the place for sport, something in the old style. The Professors there are all of the ancient school, and we shall just be in time for the first Lecture. It is a school of science, and though established upon the ancient construction, is highly suitable to the taste of the moderns.”

“Zounds!” replied Bob, “our heads are hardly in cue for philosophy after so much wine and noise; we had better defer it to another opportunity.”

“Nay, nay, now's the very time for it--it will revive the recollection of some of your former sports;

For, midst our luxuries be it understood, Some traits remain of rugged hardihood.”

~387~~ Charley is a good caterer for the public appetite, and, to diversify the amusements of a Life in London, we will have a little chaff among the Bear-baiters.”

Tally-ho stared for a moment; then burst into laughter at the curious introduction his Cousin had given to this subject. “I have long perceived your talent for embellishment, but certainly was not prepared for the conclusion; but you ought rather to have denominated them Students in Natural History.”

“And what is that but a branch of Philosophy?” inquired Dashall. “However, we are discussing points of opinion rather than hastening to the scene of action to become judges of facts--Allons.”

Upon saying this, they moved forward with increased celerity towards Tothill-fields, and soon reached their proposed place of destination.

On entering, Tallyho was reminded by his Cousin to button up his toggery, keep his ogles in action, and be awake. “For,” said he, “you will here have to mingle with some of the queer Gills and rum Covies of all ranks.”

This advice being taken, they soon found themselves in this temple of torment, where Bob surveyed a motly group assembled, and at that moment engaged in the sports of the evening. The generality of the company bore the appearance of Butchers, Dog-fanciers and Ruffians, intermingled here and there with a few Sprigs of Fashion, a few Corinthian Sicells, Coster-mongers, Coal-heavers, Watermen, Soldiers, and Livery-servants.

The bear was just then pinn'd by a dog belonging to a real lover of the game, who, with his shirt-sleeves tuck'd up, declared he was a d------d good one, and nothing but a good one, so help him G------d. This dog, at the hazard of his life, had seized poor Bruin by the under lip, who sent forth a tremendous howl indicative of his sufferings, and was endeavouring to give him a fraternal hug; many other dogs were barking aloud with anxiety to take an active share in the amusement, while the bear, who was chained by the neck to a staple in the wall, and compelled to keep an almost erect posture, shook his antagonist with all the fury of madness produced by excessive torture. In the mean time bets were made and watches pull'd forth, to decide how long the bow-wow would bother the ragged Russian. The Dog-breeders were chaffing each other upon the value of their canine property, each holding his ~388~~ brother-puppy between his legs, till a fair opportunity for a let-loose offered, and many wagers were won and lost in a short space of time. Bob remained a silent spectator; while his Cousin, who was better up to the gossip, mixt with the hard-featured sportsmen, inquired the names of their dogs, what prices were fix'd upon, when they had fought last, and other questions equally important to amateurs.

Bruin got rid of his customers in succession as they came up to him, and when they had once made a seizure, it was generally by a hug which almost deprived them of life, at least it took from them the power of continuing their hold; but his release from one was only the signal for attack from another.

While this exhibition continued, Tom could not help calling his Cousin's attention to an almost bald-headed man, who occupied a front seat, and sat with his dog, which was something of the bull breed, between his legs, while the paws of the animal rested on the top rail, and which forcibly brought to his recollection the well-known anecdote of Garrick and the Butcher's dog with his master's wig on, while the greasy carcass-dealer was wiping the perspiration from his uncovered pericranium.

Bob, who had seen a badger-bait, and occasionally at fairs in the country a dancing bear, had never before seen a bear-bait, stood up most of the time, observing those around him, and paying attention to their proceedings while entertaining sentiments somewhat similar to the following lines:--

“What boisterous shouts, what blasphemies obscene, What eager movements urge each threatening mien! Present the spectacle of human kind, Devoid of feeling--destitute of mind; With ev'ry dreadful passion rous'd to flame, All sense of justice lost and sense of shame.”

When Charley the proprietor thought his bear was sufficiently exercised for the night, he was led to his den, lacerated and almost lamed, to recover of his wounds, with an intention that he should “fight his battles o'er again.” Meanwhile Tom and Bob walk'd homeward.

The next day having been appointed for the coronation of our most gracious Sovereign, our friends were off at an early hour in the morning, to secure their seats in ~389~~ Westminster Hall; and on their way they met the carriage of our disappointed and now much lamented Queen, her endeavours to obtain admission to the Abbey having proved fruitless.

“Oh that the Monarch had as firmly stood In all his acts to serve the public good, As in that moment of heartfelt joy That firmness acted only to destroy A nation's hope--to every heart allied, Who lived in sorrow, and lamented died!”

It was a painful circumstance to Dashall, who was seldom severe in his judgments, or harsh in his censures. He regretted its occurrence, and it operated in some degree to rob a splendid ceremony of its magnificence, and to sever from royalty half its dignity.

The preparations however were arranged upon a scale of grandeur suited to the occasion. The exterior of Westminster Hall and Abbey presented a most interesting appearance. Commodious seats were erected for the accommodation of spectators to view the procession in its moving order, and were thronged with thousands of anxious subjects to greet their Sovereign with demonstrations of loyalty and love.

It was certainly a proud day of national festivity. The firing of guns and the ringing of bells announced the progress of the Coronation in its various stages to completion; and in the evening Hyde Park was brilliantly and tastefully illuminated, and an extensive range of excellent fireworks were discharged under the direction of Sir William Congreve. We must however confine ourselves to that which came under the view of the Hon. Tom Dashall and his Cousin, who, being seated in the Hall, had a fine opportunity of witnessing the banquet, and the challenge of the Champion.

A flooring of wood had been laid down in the Hall at an elevation of fourteen inches above the flags. Three tiers of galleries were erected on each side, covered with a rich and profuse scarlet drapery falling from a cornice formed of a double row of gold-twisted rope, and ornamented with a succession of magnificent gold pelmets and rosettes. The front of the door which entered from the passage without, was covered with a curtain of scarlet, trimmed with deep gold fringe, and looped up on each side with ~390~~ silken ropes. The floor, and to the extremity of the first three steps of the Throne, was covered with a splendid Persian-pattern Wilton carpet, and the remainder of the steps with scarlet baize.

The canopy of the throne, which was square, was surrounded by a beautiful carved and gilt cornice, prepared by Mr. Evans. Beneath the cornice hung a succession of crimson-velvet pelmet drapery, each pelmet having embroidered upon it a rose, a thistle, a crown, or a harp. Surmounting the cornice in front was a gilt crown upon a velvet cushion, over the letters “Geo. IV.” supported on each side by an antique gilt ornament. The entire back of the throne, as well as the interior of the canopy, were covered with crimson Genoa velvet, which was relieved by a treble row of broad and narrow gold lace which surrounded the whole. In the centre of the back were the royal arms, the lion and the unicorn rampant, embroidered in the most costly style. Under this stood the chair of state, and near the throne were six splendid chairs placed for the other members of the royal family. These decorations, and the Hall being splendidly illuminated, presented to the eye a spectacle of the most imposing nature, heightened by the brilliant assemblage of elegantly dressed personages. The Ladies universally wore ostrich feathers, and the Gentlemen were attired in the most sumptuous dresses.

About four o'clock, his Majesty having gone through the other fatiguing ceremonies of the day, entered the Hall with the crown upon his head, and was greeted with shouts of “Long live the King!” from all quarters; shortly after which, the banquet was served by the necessary officers. But that part of the ceremony which most attracted the attention of Tallyho, was the challenge of the Champion, whose entrance was announced by the sound of the trumpets thrice; and who having proceeded on a beautiful horse in a full suit of armour, under the porch of a triumphal arch, attended by the Duke of Wellington on his right, and the Deputy Earl Marshal on his left, to the place assigned him, the challenge was read aloud by the Herald: he then threw down his gauntlet, which having lain a short time, was returned to him. This ceremony was repeated three times; when he drank to his Majesty, and received the gold cup and cover as his fee.

~391~~ The whole of this magnificent national pageant was conducted throughout with the most scrupulous attention to the customary etiquette of such occasions; and Tallyho, who had never witnessed any thing of the kind before, and consequently could have no conception of its splendour, was at various parts of the ceremony enraptured; he fancied himself in Fairy-land, and that every thing he saw and heard was the effect of enchantment. Our friends returned home highly gratified with their day's amusement.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XXV

“Behold the Ring! how strange the group appears Of dirty blackguards, commoners and peers; Jews, who regard not Moses nor his laws, All ranks of Christians eager in the cause. What eager bets--what oaths at every breath, Who first shall shrink, or first be beat to death. Thick fall the blows, and oft the boxers fall, While deaf'ning shouts for fresh exertions call; Till, bruised and blinded, batter'd sore and maim'd, One gives up vanquish'd, and the other lam'd. Say, men of wealth! say what applause is due For scenes like these, when patronised by you? These are your scholars, who in humbler way, But with less malice, at destruction play. You, like game cocks, strike death with polish'd steel; They, dung-hill-bred, use only nature's heel; They fight for something--you for nothing fight; They box for love, but you destroy in spite.”

~392 ~~ THE following Tuesday having been appointed by the knowing ones for a pugilistic encounter between Jack Randall, commonly called the Nonpareil, and Martin, as well known by the appellation of The Master of the Rolls, from his profession being that of a baker; an excellent day's sport was anticipated, and the lads of the fancy were all upon the “qui vive.”

Our friends had consequently arranged, on the previous night, to breakfast at an early hour, and take a gentle ride along the road, with a determination to see as much as possible of the attractive amusements of a milling-match, and to take a view as they went along of the company they were afterwards to mingle with.

“We shall now,” said Dashall (as they sat down to breakfast) “have a peep at the lads of the ring, and see a little of the real science of Boxing.”

“We have been boxing the compass through the difficult straits of a London life for some time,” replied Bob, “and I begin to think that, with all its variety, its gaiety, and

~393~~ its pride, the most legitimate joys of life may fairly be said to exist in the country.”

“I confess,” said Dashall, “that most of the pleasures of life are comparative, and arise from contrast. Thus the bustle of London heightens the serenity of the country, while again the monotony of the country gives additional zest to the ever-varying scenes of London. But why this observation at a moment when we are in pursuit of fresh game?”

“Nay,” said Tallyho, “I know not why; but I spoke as I thought, feeling as I do a desire to have a pop at the partridges as the season is now fast approaching, and having serious thoughts of shifting my quarters.”

“We will talk of that hereafter,” was the reply. “You have an excellent day's sport in view, let us not throw a cloud upon the prospect before us--you seem rather in the doldrums. The amusements of this day will perhaps inspire more lively ideas; and then we shall be present at the masquerade, which will doubtless be well attended; all the fashion of the Metropolis will be present, and there you will find a new world, such as surpasses the powers of imagination--a sort of Elysium unexplored before, full of mirth, frolic, whim, wit and variety, to charm every sense in nature. But come, we must not delay participating in immediate gratifications by the anticipations of those intended for the future. Besides, I have engaged to give the Champion a cast to the scene of action in my barouche.”

By this time Piccadilly was all in motion--coaches, carts, gigs, tilburies, whiskies, buggies, dog-carts, sociables, dennets, curricles, and sulkies, were passing in rapid succession, intermingled with tax-carts and waggons decorated with laurel, conveying company of the most varied description. In a few minutes, the barouche being at the door, crack went the whip, and off they bowled. Bob's eyes were attracted on all sides. Here, was to be seen the dashing Corinthian tickling up his tits, and his bang-up set-out of blood and bone, giving the go-by to a heavy drag laden with eight brawney bull-faced blades, smoking their way down behind a skeleton of a horse, to whom in all probability a good feed of corn would have been a luxury; pattering among themselves, occasionally chaffing the more elevated drivers by whom they were surrounded, and pushing forward their nags with all the ardour of a British ~394~~ merchant intent upon disposing of a valuable cargo of foreign goods on 'Change. There, was a waggon, full of all sorts upon the lark, succeeded by a donkey-cart with four insides; but Neddy, not liking his burthen, stopt short on the way of a Dandy, whose horse's head coming plump up to the back of the crazy vehicle at the moment of its stoppage, threw the rider into the arms of a Dustman, who, hugging his customer with the determined grasp of a bear, swore d------n his eyes he had saved his life, and he expected he would stand something handsome for the Gemmen all round, for if he had not pitched into their cart, he would certainly have broke his neck; which being complied with, though reluctantly, he regained his saddle, and proceeded a little more cautiously along the remainder of the road, while groups of pedestrians of all ranks and appearances lined each side.

At Hyde-Park Corner, Tom having appointed to take up the prime hammer-man, drew up, and was instantly greeted by a welcome from the expected party, who being as quickly seated, they proceeded on their journey.

“This match appears to occupy general attention,” said Tom.

“I should think so,” was the reply--“why it will be a prime thing as ever was seen. Betting is all alive--the Daffy Club in tip-top spirits--lots of money sported on both sides--somebody must make a mull{1}--but Randall's the man--he is the favourite of the day, all the world to a penny-roll.”

The simile of the penny roll being quite in point with the known title of one of the combatants, caused a smile on Dashall's countenance, which was caught by the eye of Tallyho, and created some mirth, as it was a proof of what has frequently been witnessed, that the lovers of the fancy are as apt in their imaginations at times, as they are ready for the accommodating one, two, or the friendly flush hit which floors their opponents.

The morning was fine, and the numerous persons who appeared travelling on the road called forth many inquiries from Bob.

“Now,” said he, “I think I recollect that the admirable author of the Sentimental Journey used to read as he went along--is it possible to read as we journey forward?” “Doubtless,” replied Tom, “it is, and will produce

1 Mull--Defeat, loss, or disappointment.

~395~~ a fund of amusing speculation as we jog on. Lavater founded his judgment of men upon the formation of their features; Gall and Spurzheim by the lumps, bumps and cavities of their pericraniums; but I doubt not we shall be right in our views of the society we are likely to meet, without the help of either--do you see that group?”

Bob nodded assent.

“These,” continued Tom, “are profitable characters, or rather men of profit, who, kindly considering the constitution of their friends, provide themselves with refreshments of various kinds, to supply the hungry visitors round the ring--oranges, nuts, apples, gingerbread, biscuits and peppermint drops.”

“Not forgetting blue ruin and French lace,”{1} said the man of fist; “but you have only half done it--don't you see the Cash-cove{2} behind, with his stick across his shoulder, padding the hoof{3} in breathless speed? he has shell'd out the lour{4} for the occasion, and is travelling down to keep a wakeful winker{5} on his retailers, and to take care that however they may chuse to lush away the profit, they shall at least take care of the principal. The little Dandy just before him also acts as Whipper-in; between them they mark out the ground,{6} watch the progress, and pocket the proceeds. They lend the money for the others to traffic.”

“I confess,” said Tom, “I was not exactly up to this.”

“Aye, aye, but I know the Blunt-monger,{7} and am up to his ways and means,” was the reply.--“Hallo, my eyes, here he comes!” continued he, rising from his seat, and bowing obsequiously to a Gentleman who passed them in a tandem--“all right, I am glad of it--always good sport when he is present--no want of sauce or seasoning--he always comes it strong.”{8}

“I perceive,” replied Tom, “you allude to the noble Marquis of W------.”

1 French lace--A flash or cant term for brandy.

2 Cash-cove--A monied man.

3 Padding the hoof--Travelling on Shanks's mare, or taking a turn by the marrow-bone stage, i.e. walking.

4 Shell'd out the lour--Supplied the cash.

5 Wakeful winker--A sharp eye.

6 Mark out the ground--Is to place his retailers in various parts of the Ring for the accommodation of the company, any where he may expect to find them himself.

7 Blunt-monger--Money-dealer, or money-lender.

8 Comes it strong--No flincher, a real good one.

~396~~ Travelling gently along the road, they were presently impeded by a crowd of persons who surrounded a long cart or waggon, which had just been overturned, and had shot out a motley group of personages, who were being lifted on their legs, growling and howling at this unforeseen disaster. A hard-featured sailor, whose leg had been broken by the fall, brandished a splinter of the fractured limb, and swore--“That although his timbers were shivered, and he had lost a leg in the service, he would not be the last in the Ring, but he'd be d------d if he mount the rubbish-cart any more.” It is needless to observe his leg was a wooden one.

Upon examining the inscription on the cart, it was found to contain the following words:--“Household Furniture, Building Materials, and Lumber carefully removed.” As it was ascertained that no real injury had been sustained, our party speedily passed the overturned vehicle and proceeded.

The next object of attraction was a small cart drawn by one poor animal, sweating and snorting under the weight of six Swells, led by an old man, who seemed almost as incapable as his horse seemed unwilling to perform the journey. A label on the outside of the cart intimated that its contents was soap, which created some laughter between Tom and Bob. The man in the front, whose Jew-looking appearance attracted attention, was endeavouring to increase the speed of the conveyance by belabouring the boney rump of the prad{1} with his hat, while some of their pedestrian palls{2} were following close in the rear, and taking occasionally a drap of the cratur, which was handed out behind and returned after refreshment.

“These,” said Tom to his Cousin, “are also men of profit, but not exactly in the way of those we passed--second-rate Swells and broken-down Gamesters, determined, as the saying is, to have a shy, even if they lose their sticks, and more properly may be termed men of plunder; desperate in their pursuits, they turn out with intent to make the best of the day, and will not fail to nibble all they can come easily at.”

“They are not worth the blood from a broken nose,” said the Pugilist, with a feeling for the honour of his profession which did him credit.--“They are all prigs, their company

1 Prad--A cant term for a horse.

2 Palls--Partners, accomplices, colleagues.

~397~~ spoils all genteel society, and frequently brings disgrace upon others with whom they are unworthy to associate, or even to be seen--there's no getting rid of such gentry. Is it not d------d hard a man can't have a pleasant bit of a turn-up, without having his friends filched?--But here comes the gay fellows, here they come upon the trot, all eager and anxious to mark the first blow, start the odds, and curry the coal.{1} These are the lads of life--true lovers of the sport--up to the manouvre--clear and quick-sighted, nothing but good ones--aye aye, and here comes Bill Gibbons, furnished with the fashionables.”

“What do you call the fashionables?” inquired Bob.

“Why, the Binders.”

Here he was as much at a loss as ever, which the other perceiving, he continued--“The Binders are the stakes and ropes, to fence in the Ring.”

Bill Gibbons, who was well known on the road, and was speeding down pretty sharp, was followed by crowds of vehicles of all descriptions; as many to whom the place of meeting was but conjectured, upon seeing him felt assured of being in the right track. Here were to be seen the Swells in their tandems--the Nib Sprigs in their gigs, buggies, and dog-carts--and the Tidy Ones on their trotters, all alive and leaping. Mirth and merriment appeared spread over every countenance, though expectation and anxiety were intermingled here and there in the features of the real lads of the fancy; many of whom, upon this very interesting occasion, had bets to a considerable amount depending upon the result of the day. The bang-up blades were pushing their prads along in gay style, accompanied by two friends, that is to say, a biped and a quadruped. The queer fancy lads, who had hired hacks from the livery-stable keepers, were kicking up a dust, and here and there rolling from their prancers in their native soil; while the neck or nothing boys, with no prospect but a whereas before their eyes, were as heedless of their personal safety as they were of their Creditor's property. Jaded hacks and crazy vehicles were to be seen on all sides--here lay a bankrupt-cart with the panels knock'din, and its driver with an eye knock'd out, the horse lamed, and the concern completely knock'd up, just before the period when the hammer of the Auctioneer was to be called in, and his effects knock'd down. There was another

1 Curry the coal--Make sure of the money.

~398~~ of the same description, with a harum-scarum devil of a half-bred, making his way at all risks, at a full gallop, as unmanageable in his career as his driver had been in his speculations; dust flying, women sprawling, men bawling, dogs barking, and the multitude continually increasing. Scouts, Scamps, Lords, Loungers and Lacqueys--Coster-mongers from--To the Hill Fields--and The Bloods from Bermondsey, completely lined the road as far as the eye could reach, both before and behind; it was a day of the utmost importance to the pugilistic school, as the contest had excited a most unparalleled degree of interest!

It would be scarcely possible to give a full and accurate description of the appearances as they went along; imagination would labour in vain, and words are altogether incapable of conveying a picture of the road to this memorable fight; the various instances in which they could discover that things were not all right were admirably contrasted by others, where care and good coachmanship, with a perfect management of the bloods, proved the reverse--while the single horsemen, whose hearts were really engaged in the sport, were picking their way with celerity, and posting to the point of attraction.--The public-houses were thronged to excess, and the Turnpike-keepers made a market of the mirth-moving throng.

Our party arrived in the neighbourhood of Copthorne about half-past twelve, where all was bustle and confusion. The commissary in chief, Mr. Jackson, being out of town, some of the subalterns, who had taken the command pro tempore, had, for divers weighty reasons,principally founded on a view to the profits of certain of the Surrey Trusts, and to accommodate the sporting circles at Brighton, fixed the combat to take place in a meadow belonging to a farmer named Jarvis, near this place.

On this spot accordingly the ring was formed, and an immense mass of all descriptions of vehicles was admitted, not much, it may naturally be supposed, to the prejudice of the owner of the premises, whose agents were praise-worthily active in levying proper contributions. Some Gentlemen however in the neighbourhood, observing that the strictest delicacy was not maintained towards the sacredness of their fences, insisted that the place was too confined, and intimated that a move must be made, or they should make application to the Magistrates; and at the same time suggested Crawley Downs, the site of so ~399~ many former skirmishes, as the most convenient spot for their accommodation.

In this state of things, a move immediately took place, and a fresh ring was established on the spot alluded to; but, in effecting this new lodgment, much mortification was experienced, not alone by those, who, after a dreadful drag up one of the worst by-roads in England, had obtained a comfortable situation, but by those, who, speculating on the formation of the ring, had expended considerable sums in the hire of waggons for their purpose from the surrounding farmers. The waggons it was found impossible to move in due time, and thus the new area was composed of such vehicles as were first to reach the appointed ground.

The general confusion now was inconceivable, for, notwithstanding the departure of connoisseurs from Jarvis's Farm, Martin still maintained his post, alleging, that he was on the ground originally fixed, and that he should expect Randall to meet him there; in which demand he was supported by his backers. This tended to increase the embarrassment of the amateurs; however, about one, Randall arrived at Crawley Downs, in a post-chaise, and took up his quarters at a cottage near the ground, waiting for his man; and at two, General Barton, who had just mounted his charger, intending to consult the head-quarters of the Magistrates, to ascertain their intention in case of proceeding to action at Jarvis's Farm, was suddenly arrested in his progress by an express from the Martinites, announcing that their champion had yielded his claim to the choice of ground, and was so anxious for the mill, that he would meet Randall even in a saw-pit. Bill Gibbons arriving soon after, the Ring, with the assistance of many hands, was quickly formed; by which time, Tom and Bob had secured themselves excellent situations to view the combat.

About twenty minutes before three, Randall entered the outer Ring, attended by General Barton and Mr. Griffiths. He was attired in a Whitehall upper Benjamin, and threw his hat into the Ring amidst loud applause. In a few minutes after, Martin approached from an opposite direction, accompanied by Mr. Sant and Mr. Elliott; he was also warmly greeted.

The men now passed the ropes, and were assisted by their immediate friends in peeling for action. Martin was ~400~~ attended by Spring and Thurton; Randall, by Harry Holt and Paddington Jones.

The men stript well, and both appeared to be in excellent health, good spirits, and high condition; but the symmetry of Randall's bust excited general admiration; and the muscular strength of his arms, neck, and shoulders, bore testimony to his Herculean qualities; the whole force of his body, in fact, seem'd to be concentrated above his waistband. Martin stood considerably above him, his arms were much longer, but they wanted that bold and imposing weight which characterized those of Randall. They walked up to the scratch, and shook hands in perfect good fellowship. Every man now took his station, and the heroes threw themselves into their guard.

It was rumoured that Martin intended to lose no time in manoeuvring, but to go to work instanter. This however he found was not so easily to be effected as suggested, for Randall had no favour to grant, and was therefore perfectly on his guard. He was all wary caution, and had clearly no intention of throwing away a chance, but was evidently waiting for Martin to commence. Martin once or twice made play, but Randall was not skittishly inclined, all was “war hawk.” Randall made a left-handed hit to draw his adversary, but found it would not do. Martin then hit right and left, but was stopped. Randall was feeling for Martin's wind, but hit above his mark, though not without leaving one of a red colour, which told “a flattering tale.” Randall returned with his left, and the men got to a smart rally, when Randall got a konker, which tapped the claret. An almost instantaneous close followed, in which Randall, grasping Martin round the neck with his right arm, and bringing his head to a convenient posture, sarved out punishment with his left. This was indeed a terrific position. Randall was always famous for the dreadful force of his short left-handed hits, and on this occasion they lost none of their former character. Martin's nob was completely in a vice; and while in that hopeless condition, Randall fibbed away with the solid weight of the hammer of a tuck-mill. His aim was principally at the neck, where every blow told with horrible violence. Eight or ten times did he repeat the dose, and then, with a violent swing, threw Martin to the ground, falling on him as he; went with all his weight. The Ring resounded with applause, and Jack coolly took ~401~~ his seat on the knee of his Second. Martin's friends began to look blue, but still expected, the fight being young, there was yet much to be done.

All eyes were now turned to Martin, who being lifted on Spring's knee, in a second discovered that he was done. His head fell back lifeless, and all the efforts of Spring to keep it straight were in vain. Water was thrown on him in abundance, but without effect: he was, in fact, completely senseless; and the half-minute having transpired, the Nonpareil was hailed the victor.

Randall appeared almost without a scratch, while poor Martin lay like a lump of unleavened dough; he was removed and bled, but it was some time before he was conscious of his defeat.

Nothing could exceed the astonishment which so sudden and complete a finish to the business produced. The round lasted but seven minutes and a half, of which four minutes and a half had elapsed before a blow was attempted. Thus ended one of the most extraordinary battles between two known game men on the pugilistic records. Very heavy bets had been made upon it in all parts of the kingdom. One gentleman is said to have had five thousand pounds, and another one thousand eight hundred guineas. The gains of the conqueror were supposed to be about a thousand pounds.

The amusements of the day were concluded by a second fight between Parish and Lashbroke, which proved a manly and determined contest for upwards of an hour, and in which the combatants evinced considerable skill and bravery, and was finally decided in favour of Parish. All amusement which might have been derived from this spectacle, however, was completely destroyed by the daring outrages of an immense gang of pickpockets, who broke in the Ring, and closed completely up to the ropes, carrying with them every person, of decent appearance, and openly robbing them of their watches, pocket-books and purses. And the lateness of the hour, it being five o'clock, and almost dark, favoured the depredators.

In the midst of this struggle, Tom Dashall had nearly lost his fancy topper,{1} and Tallyho was secretly eased of his clicker.{2} From the scene of tumult and confusion they were glad to escape; and being again safely seated in the

1 Topper--A flash term given to a hat.

2 Clicker--A flash term given to a watch,

~402~~ barouche, they made the best of their way home; in doing which, they found the roads almost as much clogg'd as they were in the morning. The Randallites were meritorious, and, flushed with good fortune, lined the public-houses on the road to wet their whistles, singing and shouting his name in strains to them equally inspiring as

“See the conquering hero comes! Sound your trumpets, beat your drums;”

while the Martinites rolled along the road in sullen silence; and, by the time they reached town, an account of the Battle was hawking about the streets, and songs singing to the praise of the successful combatant in all the melodious cadences of a last dying speech and confession: such is the promptitude of London Printers, Poets, and News-venders.

“Well,” said Dashall, as they re-entered the house, “the events of this day have completely disappointed some of the knowing ones.”

“That may be,” replied Bob, “but they have been too knowing for me, notwithstanding your previous instructions. However, I don't regret seeing the humours of a Prize Ring; and the next time you catch me there, I must take a lesson from the man of profit, and keep a wakeful winker on the possibles. Really, I could not help feeling astonished at the immense number of persons assembled on such an occasion.”

“Zounds!” said Tom, “'tis the real centre of attraction, the thing, the tippy, and the twig, among the Lads of the Fancy. Why, it is pretty generally known, through the medium of the newspapers, that a certain Nobleman paid the debts of one of these Pugilists, amounting to 300L. that he might be released from Newgate in order to fight a prize battle; and it is not long since that the Marquis of T--ed--e, whilst entertaining a large party, after dinner introduced the subject with so much effect, that a purse of 100 guineas was subscribed among them for a turn up between two of the prime hammermen; who, being introduced, actually set-to in his drawing-room for the amusement of his friends. Nor is it less true, that this sporting Nobleman gloriously took up the conqueror, (as the saying is) and evinced his patronage and his power at once, by actually subduing his antagonist, proving to certitude, that if his Lordship would but practise this sublime art, he ~403~~ could hardly fail of adding to his present title that of the Champion of England! It is the theme of constant conversation, and in many cases there is more anxiety about contests of this sort than there is about the arrival of a Monarch on the Irish coast among the lads of praties, whiskey, and buttermilk--thoughts are busy, energies are active--and money in galore is circulated upon it.”

Bob laughed heartily at these observations of his Cousin upon what he termed the sublime art.

“You don't appear to enter into the spirit of it,” continued Tom; “but I can assure you, it is a very animating subject, and has occupied the attention of all classes, from the peer to the prelate, the peasant and the pot-boy; it is said that one of the lower order of ranting Preachers, not many miles from Bolton-on-the-Moors, lately addressed his auditory in the following metaphorical language, accompanied with striking and appropriate attitudes:--'I dare say, now, you'd pay to see a boxing-match between Randall and Turner, or Martin--yet you don't like to pay for seeing a pitched-battle between me and the Black Champion Beelzebub. Oh! my friends, many a hard knock, and many a cross-buttock have I given the arch bruiser of mankind--aye, and all for your dear sakes--pull--do pull off those gay garments of Mammon, strike the devil a straight-forward blow in the mouth, darken his spiritual daylights. At him manfully, give it him right and left, and I'll be your bottle-holder--I ask nothing but the money, which you'll not forget before you go.' ”

“The true spirit moved him,” said Bob, “and a very laudable one too; but he very emphatically deprecated the votaries of Mammon.”

“Certainly, he being called, would have been unworthy of his calling if he had not.”

This conversation was carried on over a glass of generous wine, and, dwindling into indifferent subjects, is not necessary to be detailed; suffice it to say, that, fatigued with the day's exertions, they sought repose in the arms of Morpheus at an early hour, determined on the pursuit of fresh game with the dawn of the morning.404~~

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XXVI

“See yonder beaux, so delicately gay; And yonder belles, so'deck'd in thin array-- Ah! rather see not what a decent pride Would teach a maiden modestly to hide; The dress so flimsy, the exposure such, “twould almost make a very wanton blush. E'en married dames, forgetting what is due To sacred ties, give half clad charms to view. What calls them forth to brave the daring glance, The public ball, the midnight wanton dance? There many a blooming nymph, by fashion led, Has felt her health, her peace, her honour fled; Truss'd her fine form to strange fantastic shapes, To be admir'd, and twirl'd about by apes; Or, mingling in the motley masquerade, Found innocence by visor'd vice betrayed.”

AN agreeable lounge through the Parks in the morning afforded them an opportunity of recalling in idea the pleasures of the past Real Life in London, of which Tallyho had been enabled to partake, and during which he again signified a desire to change the scene, by a departure at an early period for his native vales, to breathe, as he observed, the uncontaminated air of the country--to watch the wary pointer, and mark the rising covey--to pursue the timid hare, or chase the cunning fox; and Dashall finding him inflexible, notwithstanding his glowing descriptions of scenes yet unexplored, at length consented to accompany him to Belville Hall, upon condition that they should return again in a month. This mode of arrangement seemed perfectly satisfactory to Bob; and a view of the Panorama and a peep at the Tennis Court would have finished their rambles for the day, but at the latter place of amusement and healthful exercise, meeting with young Mortimer, a further developement of facts relative to Sparkle and his Bride transpired; in which it appeared that they had arrived at their place of destination, and had forwarded an invitation to his brother-in-law to ~405~~ pay them an early visit, and who proposed starting in a few days.

“Well,” said Dashall, “we will all go together, and no doubt with our old friend Sparkle we shall be able to endure the unchanging prospects of a country life.”

“In the Country how blest, when it rains in the fields, To feast upon transports that shuttle-cock yields; Or go crawling from window to window, to see An ass on a common, a crow on a tree.

In the Country you're nail'd, like some pale in your park, To some stick of a neighbour, crammed into the ark; And if you are sick, or in fits tumble down, You reach death ere the Doctor can reach you from town.”

“Never mind,” cried Tallyho, “a change of scene will no doubt be useful, and, at all events, by enduring the one, we may learn more judiciously to appreciate the other.”

“True,” said Tom, “and I shall like myself all the better for being in good company. But pray, Mr. Mortimer, what do you mean to do at the approaching masquerade?”

“Not quite decided yet,” was the reply.

“You go, of course?”

“Certainly--as Orpheus, or Apollo. But pray what character do you intend to sustain?”

“That's a secret--”

“Worth knowing, I suppose--well, well, I shall find you out, never fear.”

“Time's a tell-tale,” said Dashall, “and will most likely unfold all mysteries; but I always think the life and spirit of a masquerade is much injured by a knowledge of the characters assumed by friends, unless it be where two or more have an intention of playing, as it were, to, and with each other; for where there is mystery, there is always interest. I shall therefore propose that we keep to ourselves the characters in which we mean to appear; for I am determined, if possible, to have a merry night of it.”

“On the lightly sportive wing, At pleasure's call we fly; Hark! they dance, they play, they sing, In merry merry revelry; Hark! the tabors lively beat, And the flute in numbers sweet, Fill the night with delight At the Masquerade. Let the grave ones warn us as they may, Of every harmless joy afraid; Whilst we're young and gay, We'll frolic and play At the Masquerade.”

~406~~ Tom's observations upon this subject were in perfect accordance with those of. Mortimer and Tallyho; though he had intended to consult his Cousin as to the character he should appear in, he now determined to take his own direction, or to have advice from Fentum in the Strand, whose advertisements to supply dresses, &c. he had observed in the newspapers.

These preliminaries being decided upon, as far as appeared needful at the moment, Mortimer departed towards home, where he expected to meet his Uncle upon his return from the chase after the fugitives, Sparkle and Miss Mortimer, now Mrs. Sparkle; and Tom and Bob to Piccadilly, where a select party of Dashall's friends were invited to dinner, and where they enjoyed a pleasant evening, drank rather freely, and had but little to regret after it, except certain qualmish feelings of the head and stomach the next morning.

The anticipated Masquerade had been the principal subject of conversation, so long as reason held her sway; but the hard exercise of the arm, and the generosity of the wine, had an early and visible effect upon some of the party, who did not separate till a late hour, leaving Bob just strength and intelligence enough to find the way to his dormitory.

By the arrival of the appointed evening for the grand Masquerade at Vauxhall Gardens, Tom Dashall, who had a particular view in keeping his intended proceedings a secret, had arranged all to his wishes, and anticipated considerable amusement from the interest he should take in the safety of his Cousin, whom he entertained no doubt of quickly discovering, and with whom he determined to promote as much mirth as possible.

Tallyho, in the mean time, had also made occasional calls upon Merrywell in his confinement, and, under his direction, been preparing for the occasion, equally determined, if possible, to turn the laugh on his Cousin; ~407~~ and it must be acknowledged, he could scarcely have found a more able tutor, though he was doomed rather to suffer by his confidence in his instructor, as will hereafter be seen; for, in escaping the intended torment of one, he was unexpectedly subjected to the continual harassing of another.

It was about half after eleven o'clock, when Tallyho, duly equipped in his country costume, as a Huntsman, entered this splendid and spacious scene of brilliancy. The blaze of light which burst upon him, and the variety of characters in constant motion, appeared almost to render him motionless; and several of the would-be characters passed him with a vacant stare, declaring he was no character at all! nor was he roused from his lethargic position till he heard a view halloo, which seemed to come from a distant part of the Garden, and was so delivered, as actually to give him an idea of the party being in pursuit of game, by growing fainter towards the close, as if receding from him. The sound immediately animated him, and answering it in a truly sportsman-like style, he burst from his situation, and cracking his whip, at full speed followed in the direction from which it came, under the impression that he knew the voice of Dashall, and should discover him. In his speed, however, he was rather rudely attacked by a small dandy personage, whose outward appearance indicated some pretensions to manhood, with a “Demmee, Sir, how dare you be rude to my voman! for egad I shall have you clapped in the Round-house--here, Vatchman, take this here man in charge--Vatch! Vatch!” The voice however soon told him he had a lady to deal with, and he entered into a long harangue by way of apology. This not being acceptable to the offended party, he was surrounded by a host of Charleys springing their rattles all at once, and, notwithstanding the dexterous use of his whip, he was obliged to yield. At this moment, Tallyho was again sounded in his ears, issuing from another quarter; but his struggles to pursue the party from whom it came were ineffectual. A rough-hewn Sailor with a pipe in his mouth, and an immense cudgel in his hand, however, arrived to his assistance, accompanied by an Irish Chairman in a large blue coat, and a cock'd hat bound with gold lace, armed with a chair-pole, who effected his liberty; and he again scoured off in pursuit ~408~~ of his friend, but without success. He now began to think his situation not altogether so pleasant as he could wish. He listened to every voice, examined every form that passed him in rapid succession; yet he felt himself alone, and determined not to be led away by sounds such as had already occupied his attention, but rather to look about him, and notice the eccentricities with which he was surrounded. Sauntering along in this mood, he was presently assailed by a voice behind him, exclaiming, “Bob--

“Bob, if you wish to go safely on, Tarn round about, and look out for the Don.”

Upon hearing this, he turned hastily around, and encountered a group of Chimney-sweepers, who immediately set up such a clatter with their brushes and shovels, dancing at the same time in the true May-day style round him and a strapping Irish fish-woman, that he was completely prevented from pursuit, and almost from observation, while a universal laugh from those near him bespoke the mirth his situation excited; and the Hibernian damsel, with true Irish sympathy, attempted to allay his chagrin by clasping him in her brawny arms, and imprinting on his ruddy cheek a kiss. This only served to heighten their merriment and increase his embarrassment, particularly as his Cher ami swore she had not had a buss like it since the death of her own dear dead and departed Phelim, the last of her four husbands, who died of a whiskey fever, bawling for pratees and buttermilk, and was waked in a coal-shed.

This mark of the Lady's favour was not so favourably received by Tallyho, and, determined to make his escape, he gave Moll a violent fling from him, overturned her and her basket, knock'd down two of the Chimney-sweepers, and then with a leap as if he had been springing at a five-barred gate, jumped over his late companion, who lay sprawling among the flue-fakers, and effected his purpose, to the inexpressible amusement of those, who, after enjoying a hearty laugh at him, now transferred their risibility to those he left behind. Finding himself once more unshackled, he smack'd his whip with enthusiasm, and repeated his Tallyho with increased effect; for it was immediately answered, and, without waiting for its final close, he found the person from whom it was ~409~~ proceeding to be no other than a Turk, who was precipitately entering one of the rooms, and was as quickly recognized by him to be the Hon. Tom Dashall. The alteration which a Turkish turban and pelisse had effected in his person, would however have operated as an effectual bar to this discovery, had he not seized him in the very moment of vociferation; and although his Cousin had been the chief cause of the adventures he had already met with, he had at the same time kept an eye upon Bob, and been equally instrumental in effecting his release from embarrassment.

“Come,” said Tom, “I am for a little gig in the Room--how long have you been here?--I thought I should find you out, very few can disguise themselves from me; we will now be spectators for half an hour, and enjoy the mirth excited by others.”

“With all my heart,” rejoined Bob, “for I am almost as tired already as if I had spent a whole day in a fox-chase, and have run as many risks of my neck; so that a cool half hour's observation will be very acceptable.”

They had scarcely entered the Room, as a Priscilla Tomboy passed them at full speed with a skipping-rope, for whose accommodation every one made way; and who, having skipped round the room to shew her fine formed ancle and flexibility of limbs, left it for a moment, and returned with a large doll, which she appeared as pleased with as a child of eight or ten years of age. A Jemmy Jumps assured Tom, that his garments were altogether unsuitable to the nation in which he was residing, and recommended that he should not exist another day without that now very fashionable appendage of a Gentleman's dress called stays--An excellent Caleb Quotem, by his smartness of repartee and unceasing volubility of speech in recounting his labours of a day--“a summer's day,” as the poet says, afforded much amusement by his powers of out-talking the fribble of a Staymaker, who, finding himself confused by his eternal clack, fled in search of another customer. A Don Quixote was conferring the honour of knighthood on a clumsy representative of the God of Love, and invoking his aid in return, to accomplish the object of finding his lost Dulcinea. An outlandish fancy-dressed character was making an assignation with a Lady, who, having taken the veil and renounced the sex, kindly consented to forego ~410~~ her vows and meet him again; while a Devil behind her was hooking the cock'd-hat of the gay deceiver to the veil of the Nun, which created considerable laughter, for as they attempted to separate, they were both completely unmasked, and discovered, to the amazement of Tallyho, two well-known faces, little expected there by him--no other than Merrywell as the Dandy Officer, and his friend Mr. Safebind as the Nun. The exposure rather confused them, while Tom and Bob joined the merry Devil in a loud burst of laughter--they however bustled through the room and were quickly lost.

A French Frisseur, without any knowledge of the language of the nation from which he appeared to come, could only answer a question a la Françoise from the accomplished Tom Dashall, by a volume of scented powder from his puff, which being observed by a Chimney-sweeper, was returned by dust of another colour from his soot-bag, till the intermixture of white and black left it difficult to decide which was the Barber and which the Sweep. They were now suddenly attracted by a grotesque dance between a Clown of the Grimaldi school and a fancy Old Woman in a garment of patch-work made in an ancient fashion. A red nose, long rows of beads for ear-rings, and a pair of spectacles surmounted by a high cauled-cap, decorated with ribbons of various hues, rendered her the most conspicuous character in the room: and notwithstanding her high-heeled shoes, she proved herself an excellent partner for the Clown.

By this time, Bob, who was anxious to carry his plan into execution, began to be fidgetty, and proposed a walk into the open air again. As they left the room, his ears were attracted by the following song by a Watchman, which he could not help stopping to catch, and which afforded his Cousin an excellent opportunity of giving him the slip:

“Fly, ye prigs,{1} for now's the hour, (Tho' boosey kids{2} have lost their power,) When watchful Charleys,{3} like the Sun, Their nightly course of duty run Beneath the pale-faced moon;

1 Prigs--Pickpockets.

2 Boosey kids--Drunken men.

3 Charleys--A cant term for watchmen.

But take this warning while ye fly, That if you nibble, click,{1} or clye,{2} My sight's so dim, I cannot see, Unless while you the blunt{3} tip me: Then stay, then stay; For I shall make this music speak,{4} And bring you up before the Beak,{5} Unless the chink's in tune.

Now, ye rambling sons of night, Or peep-o'-day boys{6} on your flight, Well prim'd with Jack or Child Tom's juice, While you the silver key{7} produce, Your safety then is clear. But snuffy,{8} and not up to snuff,{9} You'll And your case is queer enough; Shell out the nonsense;{10} half a quid{11} Will speak more truth than all your whid:{12}

Then go, then go; For, if you linger on your way, You'll for my music dearly pay, I'll quod you, never fear.”

Turning round with laughter from this character, who had attracted many hearers, he look'd in vain for Dashall, and was not displeased to find he had fled. He therefore hastily withdrew from the scene of merriment, and according to the instructions previously received, and for which he had prepared, quickly changed his dress, and appeared again in the character of a Judge, under the impression hinted by his counsellor, that the gravity of his wig and gown, with a steady countenance,

1 Click--A contraction of the word clicker, for a watch.

2 Clye--A pocket-handkerchief.

3 Blunt--Money.

4 Music--Alluding to the rattle.

5 Beak--A magistrate.

6 Peep-o'-day boys--Staunch good ones--reeling home after the frolics of the night.

7 Silver key--Money which is thus termed, as it is supposed to open all places, and all hearts.

“If you are sick and like to die, And for the Doctor send, Or have the cholic in your eye, Still money is your friend--is it not?”

8 Snuffy--Drunk.

9 Up to Snuff---Elevation of ideas.

10 Shell out the nonsense--To pay money.

11 Half a quid--Half a guinea.

12 Whid--Words or talk.

~412~~ would be a quiet and peaceable part to get through, and shield him from the torment of those whom Bob suspected willing to play tricks with him should he be discovered. Here however he again found himself at fait, for he had scarcely entered the Gardens, before a host of depredators were brought before him for trial. The Charleys brought in succession, drunken Fiddlers, Tinkers and Barbers; and appeals were made to his patience in so many voices, and under so many varying circumstances, that Justice was nearly running mad, and poor Tallyho could find no chance of making a reply. An uproar from the approaching crowd, announced some more than ordinary culprit; and, in a moment, who should appear before him but a Don Giovanni, and the hooking Devil, Here was a fine case for decision; the Devil claimed the Don as his property, and addressed the Representative of Justice as follows:--

“Most learned and puissant Judge!

“Protect my rights as you would the rights of man; I claim my property, and will have my claim allowed.”

“Hold,” replied Bob, “if that is the case, you have no occasion to appeal to me--begone, black wretch, and in thy native shades yell forth thy discordant screams.”

“Most righteous Judge!--a second Daniel!” cried a bearded Shylock, with his knife and scales, “he shan't escape me--I'll have my bond--so bare his bosom 'next the heart'--let me come near him.”

“This is playing the Devil, indeed,” said the Don.

“By the Powers!” cried a 'Looney Mackwolteb,' “he's jump'd out of the fire into the frying-pan; and, when the Smouchee has done wid him, he may be grill'd in his own fat.”

At this moment, a Leporello, who caught the last words of the Irishman, burst into the presence of the Judge, singing--

“Zounds, Sir, they'll grill you now, lean or fat, I know what games you were always at, And told you before what harm you would hatch: Now the old Gentleman's found you out, He'll clap us all in the round-about; Let us be off, ere they call for the Watch.”

The word Watch was re-echoed in a thousand voices; the vociferations of the callers, the noise of the rattles, ~413~~ and the laughter of those immediately surrounding the judgment-seat, offered so good an opportunity for escape, that Giovanni, determining to have another chance, burst from the grasp of the arch enemy of mankind, to pursue his wonted vagaries, to the no small gratification of Bob, who, without actually acquitting the prisoner, rejoiced at his own escape.

He had however scarcely time to congratulate himself, before he was annoyed by a Postman, in the usual costume, whom he had already seen delivering letters to the company; the contents of which appeared to afford considerable amusement; and who, presenting a letter addressed to The Lord Chief Justice Bunglecause, in a moment disappeared. Breaking open the envelope, he read with astonishment the following lines:--

“Tho' justice prevails Under big wigs and tails, You've not much of law in your nob; So this warning pray take, Your big wig forsake, And try a more modern scratch, Bob.”

“Go along Bob--Lord Chief Justice Bob in a scratch,” cried a Waterman at his elbow, (who had heard him reading) in a voice loud enough to be heard at some distance.

“There he'll be at home to a hair,” squeaked a little finicking personification of a modern Peruquier, sidling up to him, picking his teeth with a tortoise-shell comb.

Bob, in bursting hastily away, under the reiterated cries of “Go along Bob--Lord Chief Justice Bob,” with the idea of overtaking the Postman, found himself in a moment lock'd in the close embraces of a Meg Merrilies; while a little bandy-legg'd representative of the late Sir Jeffery Dunstan, bawling out, Ould wigs, Ould wigs, made a snatch at the grave appendage of Justice, and completely dismantled the head of its august representative. This delayed him in his progress, but it was merely to witness the wig flying in the air, with as much mirth to the surrounding company as when the greasy night-cap of the Rev. George Harvest was toss'd about the pit at the theatre, each one giving it a swing who could get within reach of it. Thus mutilated in his ~414~~ apparel, and probably conceiving, according to the song,

“The wig's the thing, the wig, the wig, The wisdom's in the wig,”

Bob Tallyho took flight into a dressing-room, declaring justice was abroad and propriety not at home. He was however rather at a loss, as in his last character he had not been able to meet with the Turk, but determined to resume the search in a 'Domino. Having therefore equipped himself as a spectator, he again sallied forth with intention to explore the room, and for a time remained comparatively unmolested; but as he could no where find his Cousin, he strolled indiscriminately among the characters, viewing whatever appeared amusing or interesting in his way. The fineness of the weather greatly animated the scene, and gave increased brilliancy and effect to the illuminations, which were disposed in a numerous variety of splendid devices, representing national trophies, stars, wreaths, and crowns of laurel. It was the first moment he had found an opportunity of viewing the place in which he had been acting.

The amusements of the evening were judiciously varied, and protracted by a constant succession of entertainments of various descriptions. Mr. Chalons exhibited many of his most surprising deceptions in the rotunda; where also young Gyngell displayed some capital performances on the slack-wire. In the long room the celebrated fantoccini exhibition, with groupes of quadrille dancers, enlivened the scene. In one walk of the garden, Mr. Gyngell's theatre of arts was erected, where were exhibited balancing, the Ombres Chinoises, gymnastic exercises, and other feats, and Mr. Gyngell performed several airs on the musical glasses; in another, Punchinello delighted the beholders with his antics; in a third a very expert Juggler played a variety of clever tricks and sleight-of-hand deceptions, and a couple of itinerant Italians exhibited their musical and mechanical show-boxes; in another part of the gardens the celebrated Diavolo Antonio went through his truly astonishing evolutions on the corde volante. The Duke of Gloucester's fine military band occupied the grand orchestra; an excellent quadrille band played throughout the night in the long room, while a Scottish reel band in the rotunda, and ~415~~ a Pandean band in the gardens, played alternately reels, waltzes, and country dances.

This interval of peace was truly acceptable to Bob, and he did not fail to make the most of it, roving like the bee from one delight to another, sipping pleasure as he went, almost regretting he had not taken the last dress first, though he was every now and then importuned by Mendicants and Servant girls, very desirous to obtain places of all work. The introduction of a Dancing Bear, who appeared to possess more Christian qualities than his Leader, attracted his attention; but, in pressing to the scene of action, he received a floorer from a Bruiser in gloves, who mill'd indiscriminately all who came in his way, till the Bear took the shine out of him by a fraternal embrace; and his Leader very politely asked those around which they thought the greater bear of the two. Upon rising, Bob found himself in the hands of two itinerant Quack Doctors, each holding an arm, and each feeling for his pulse. One declared the case was mortal, a dislocation of the neck had taken place, and there was no chance of preserving life except by amputation of the head. The other shook his head, look'd grave, pull'd out his lancet, and prescribed phlebotomy and warm water.

Bob, who had received no injury, except a little contusion occasioned by the blow, seized the ignorant practitioners by the throat, and knocking their heads together, exclaimed with a stentorian voice,

“Throw physic to the clogs, I'll none on't.” “Go along Bob,” was repeated again, as loud and as long as before; he however burst from those around him in pursuit of fresh game; nor was he disappointed, for he presently found a dapper young Clergyman in gown and surplice, and who, with book in hand, was fervently engaged in exhortations and endeavours to turn from the evil of their ways a drunken Sailor and a hardened thief, (the Orson of the Iron Chest,) when the group were surrounded by a detachment of the Imps and Devils of Giovanni in London, a truly horrid and diabolical crew, who, by their hideous yells, frantic capers, violent gestures, and the flaring of their torches, scared the affrighted Parson from his task, made his intended penitents their own, and became an almost intolerable ~416~~ nuisance to the rest of the company for the remainder of the evening.

While he was thus engaged, the supper-boxes were thrown open, and the company appeared to be all on the move towards the more substantial entertainments of the evening. He was next suddenly detained by a Jew Pedlar, who was anxious to shew him his wares.

“Get out, Smouchee,” said Bob.

“Ant is dat all vat you can say to a poor honesht Jew, what vants to live by his 'trade, for vye you trow my religionsh in my teeth? I'm so honesht vat I never cheats nobody--vill you puy a gould------l Vat you take for your gown? I shall puy or sell, it's all the same to me.

“Now whatsoever country by chance I travel through, 'Tis all the same to I, so the monies but comes in; Some people call me tief, just because I am a Jew; So to make them tell the truth, vy I tinks there is no sin. So I shows them all mine coots vid a sober, winning grace, And I sometimes picks dere pockets whilst they're smiling in my face.”

Bob laugh'd, but declared he'd have nothing to do with him.

“Then,” said the Hon. Tom Dashall, “you may go along Bob.”

“What! is it possible? I have been looking for you these two hours.”

“I can't eat pork,” said Dashall, resuming his character.

“Come along,” said Bob, happy to find his relation; and catching him by the arm, they proceeded to refreshment, and partook of an excellent supper of cold viands plentifully supplied, and accompanied with a profusion of ices and jellies, served up in a style highly creditable to the managers.

Here they were joined by Mortimer, who had been as frolicsome as any imp in the Gardens, in the character of the Devil, but who had lost sight of the Dandy Officer and the Nun, whom he had so ingeniously hooked together. The wine was good, and after enjoying their repast, Tom and Mortimer enshrined themselves in dominos for the remainder of the evening. The usual masquerade frolics and dancing were afterwards continued, and about five in the morning they left this region of fun, mirth and good humour.~417~~

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XXVII

That Life is a picture of strange things and ways, A grand exhibition, each hour displays; And for London there's no place can with it compare, 'Tis a jumble of every thing curious and rare. Cheap-side Bustlers--Fleet Street Hustlers, Jockeys, Doctors--Agents, Proctors, Bow Street Slangups--Bond Street Bangups, Hide and Seekers--Opera Squeakers, Lawyers, Tailors--Bailiffs, Jailors, Shopmen, Butlers--Alderman Gutters, Patriot Talkers--Sunday Walkers, Dancers, Actors--Jews, Contractors, Placemen, Croakers--Boxers, Brokers, Swindlers, Coroners--Spies, and Foreigners, And all, all to keep up the bubble of strife, And prove ways and means--is the picture of Life.

THE bustle and merriment of the Masquerade were long remembered in the mind of Bob Tallyho, and furnished frequent conversations between him and his Cousin; and the laughable occurrences of the evening, in which they had been engaged, were re-enjoyed in recollection, notwithstanding the preparations they were making for an excursion of another kind in the country, which though not exactly to the taste of Dashall, was inflexibly persevered in by Tallyho.

Tom tried every effort in his power to prolong the appointed period of departure in A'ain. The heart and mind of his Cousin appeared to be occupied with anticipated delights, which he described in the most glowing colours of imagination. The healthful fields, the enlivening fox chase, and the sportive exercises of a country life, were detailed with ecstacy; and though last, not least, the additional zest for the more attractive scenes (in Tom's idea) that would present themselves for inspection upon a return to the Metropolis. At length it was finally arranged that their country excursion should not exceed 418~~ one month in duration, and that they would leave London time enough to reach Belville Hall on or before the first day of September.

Dashall, after consenting to this arrangement, finding there was not much time to spare, was anxious to improve it in the pursuit of such lively and interesting amusements as chance and accident might throw in their way. “Come,” said he, a few mornings after the masquerade, “it must not be said that you have been so long in London without viewing as many of its important curiosities as the time would admit; though I am sure we shall not have an opportunity of glancing at all those I could point out, and I am pretty sure that persons from the country frequently see more in a few days residence in the Metropolis, than those who have inhabited it for their whole lives. We will therefore take a stroll out, without any determined line of pursuit, and survey what chance may bring in our way; for the places deserving of particular inspection are so numerous, and lay in so many directions, that it is scarcely possible for us to turn round without finding some objects and subjects yet in store.

Thus saying, and taking the arm of his Cousin, they walked along Piccadilly in a direction for the City; for as it was a clear morning, Tom, although he had not mentioned the road he meant to take, still had an object in view.

“It is certainly much to be deplored,” said he, as they were just entering Leicester Square by Sydney's Alley, “that the abominable nuisance of barrows being driven on the pavement cannot be removed; it is a great shame that lusty and able fellows should be wheeling foul linen, hogwash, and other filthy articles along the street, to the annoyance and inconvenience of pedestrians.”

“I am of your opinion,” replied his Cousin; “but during the short time I have been here, I have discovered many other equally objectionable annoyances. There is, for instance, the carrying of milk pails, which, unless great care is taken, are so likely to break people's shins; and in dirty weather the trundling of boys' hoops, to the discomfiture of many a well-dressed Lady.”

At this moment a butcher was passing with a tray heavily loaded, and Bob narrowly escaped a blow from the projecting corner, which immediately induced him to add that to the number of what he termed street ~419~~ grievances, and almost to overturn both the carrier and his load.

“A lucky escape,” said Dashall, “for you might have lost an eye by coming in contact with that tray, and I wonder a stop is not put to the probability of such fatal accidents. It is related that a certain City Alderman, whose constitution, it may be presumed, is rather of a combustible nature, by the alarms he spread during his mayoralty, of the intention to burn the City of London, and destroy all its peaceable inhabitants, thrashed a butcher who ran against him in the public street. This it must be admitted was a summary mode of punishment, although it was not likely to remove the nuisance; but there are still many that are not enumerated in your list. Both by day and night in the most frequented streets of the Metropolis and its environs, the unoffending passengers of either sex are frequently obstructed on, or absolutely pushed off the pavement by a trio of arm-in-arm puppies; nay they will sometimes sweep the whole of the space from the wall to the curb stone, by walking four abreast, a practice brutally infringing the laws of civil society in pedestrian excursions through a crowded Metropolis.

“I have however with pleasure, upon some occasions, seen these vile trespassers meet with a just resentment in the unexpected pugilistic exertions of the insulted party; and have almost rejoiced to see them packed into a coach and sent home with bruises, black eyes, and bloody noses, serving, it is to be hoped, as wholesome lessons for their future conduct. In some cases duels have arisen from this violation of decorum in the King's highway, and by this means, scoundrels have been admitted to the undeserved honour of being met on a level by gentlemen.

“These,” continued he, “are the polite encroachers on the pavé.. There are, however, many others, but of a less censurable, though certainly of a finable description; such as journeymen bakers wheeling barrows conveying the staff of life--publicans' boys collecting pewter pots--lady drivers of similar vehicles, containing oysters, inferior or damaged fruit, delicate prog for pug dogs, cats, &c.

“After all, the most prominent offenders, or at least obstructors of the public way, in my opinion, are those sturdy John Bulls, brewers' servants, by means of ropes ~420~~ and pulleys affixed to their drays, lowering down beer into, or drawing up empty casks from the cellars of public-houses. Now although this may be unavoidable, ask one of these bluff bipeds to let you pass, the consequence frequently will be, instead of rough civility, an insolent reply accompanied with vulgar oaths; in short, a torrent of abuse, if not a shove into the kennel; perhaps a grimy rope thrown against your white stockings. Private, emolument and convenience certainly ought to give way to public accommodation.”

“Confound that dustman's bell,” said Bob, as they passed down Wych-street; “it is as bad as any thing we nave mentioned yet; it absolutely deafens one.”

“Oh, if you call noises nuisances, we may go on with a list from this time to this day month, and scarcely comprehend them. The cries of London are many of them very laughable, and many very lamentable, and by way of contrast to the deafening dustman, take care of the bespatterings from the mud cart. The garlick-eating rogues, the drivers of these inconvenient conveniences, grinning horribly their ghastly smiles, enjoy a most malicious pleasure in the opportunities which chance affords them, of lending a little additional decoration from the contents of their carts, by way of embellishment to a cleanly dressed passenger. Therefore keep, if possible, at such a respectful distance as to avoid the effects of this low envy, and steer clear of the mudlarks.”

By this time they had passed through the line of leading thoroughfares, and had St. Paul's in their view, when Tom took occasion to remark, “He was sorry the scaffolding was not removed, or,” continued he, “we would soon have mounted above these petty considerations, and looked down upon the world. However, we can take a tolerable survey of the metropolis from the Monument, and as it is not much farther, we may as well extend our walk to that celebrated pillar, said to be one of the finest in the world, and erected by Sir Christopher Wren in memory of the great fire which in 1666 broke out at a house on the spot, and destroyed the metropolis from Tower Hill to Temple Bar. From this pillar you will have a fine panoramic view of London, Westminster, and Southwark; and as we are about to leave its noise, its bustle, and its inconveniences in a day or two, we may as well take a general survey.”

~421~~ Bob having signified his consent to this proposal, they made the best of their way to the Monument, where having deposited the customary entrance money with the door-keeper, they were allowed to ascend by the winding staircase to the top, when a prospect was presented to the eye of Tallyho, of which he could not have formed any previous conception. The view of the river as far as the eye could reach, each way, the moving of the boats, the bustle and activity of the streets, and the continued hum which arose to their ears, formed altogether a subject of delightful contemplation; while the appearance of being as it were suspended in the air, rendered it awful and terrific. Bob had almost grown giddy in his ascension, and for some time took care to keep a fast hold of the iron railings at top, in order to secure himself from falling; till Dashall drew from his pocket a telescope, and directed his attention to Greenwich Hospital, Shooter's Hill, and the public buildings at a distance, where they were scarcely discernible by the naked eye. Bob was delighted with the view of Greenwich Hospital, and the account which his Cousin gave him of the establishment; and upon descending they took a complete walk round this celebrated pillar, marking its decorations and reading the inscription.

“It is,” said Tom, “a fluted column of the Doric order; the total height is 202 feet, the diameter at the base 15 feet, and the height of the column 120 feet; the cone at the top, with its urn, are 42 feet; the height of the massy pedestal is 40 feet; there are 345 steps inside; but,” continued he, “it is really a great pity that this beautiful Monument should be in such a confined situation, for in a proper place it would form one of the most striking objects of the kind that architecture is capable of producing.

“The inscription, it is true,” continued Dashall, “had better be erased, it contains a libel, or more properly a lie, which almost contradicts itself, for no rational being can entertain the notion that the Catholics, or indeed any religious sect, could wilfully have perpetrated so horrible a deed as this pillar was intended to impute to them; nor can so much credit be given to human foresight as for it to be concluded that a fire, which broke out in a single house, could upon this, rather than upon other occasions, have extended its ravages in so extraordinary a manner.--

~422~~ While we arc on the spot we will take a peep at a curious piece of antiquity; not that I am so great a lover of such curiosities, but it would appear almost unpardonable for you to have been in London without seeing London Stone.”

“I have heard of it,” said Tallyho, “and if we are near, let us have a view.”

“Come on then,” said Dashall; “This same London Stone is at present fixed close under the south wall of St. Swithin's Church, Cannon Street. It has by some been supposed of British origin, a kind of solemn boundary, or some other object probably of a religious nature, which through every change and convulsion of the State has been preserved with reverential care. But this is the very place,” said he.

Bob stared about him with surprise, to discover this curious and apparently valuable relic, without finding it, till at length his Cousin directed his attention to the spot, which at present is under a pitching-block, or resting-place for persons carrying heavy loads, and almost burst into laughter, for he had raised his Cousin's expectation by the previous description.

“How!” said Tallyho, “and is this your curiosity?”

“Even so,” replied Tom, “that is the celebrated London Stone; it formerly stood nearer the middle of the street, was placed deep in the ground, and strongly fixed with iron bars. According to account, the first mention of it was in the reign of Ethelstan, king of the West Saxons, and it has been usually viewed by our antiquaries as a military stone, from which the Romans began the computation of their miles, a conjecture which certainly appears very reasonable, not only from the discovery of the Roman road after the year 1666, running directly to this stone from Watling Street, but from the exact coincidence which its distance bears with the neighbouring station, mentioned in Antonine's Itinerary, the principal of whose Journeys either begin or end with London.”

The sound of a horn interrupted this conversation.

“Apropos,” said Tom, “we can take the Post Office in our way, a place of considerable importance; so allons.”

They now pursued their way to Lombard Street.

“This collection of buildings,” said Dashall, as they entered, “important as its concerns are to the nation, claims no praise as a building. It stands behind Lombard ~423~~ Street, from which, on the south side of the street, there is a passage leading to it, under an arched gateway.

“A plan has, however, been adopted for erecting a building worthy of this great establishment, on the site now called St. Martin's-le-grand, and to improve the access to it by pulling down the east ends of Newgate Street and Paternoster-Row. It is now proceeding rapidly.

“The Post-office system is, however, one of the most perfect regulations of finance and convenience existing under any government. It has gradually been brought to its present perfection, being at first in the hands of individuals, and replete with abuses. In its present form it not only supplies the government with a great revenue, but accomplishes that by means highly beneficial to the persons contributing.

“The Post-office is the most important spot on the surface of the globe. It receives information from all countries; it distributes instructions to the antipodes; it connects together more numerous and distant interests of men than any similar establishment. It is in the highest degree hitherto realized, the seat of terrestrial perception and volition--the brain of the whole earth; and hitherto it has been in a narrow valley, misshapen even to deformity, and scarcely accessible to the few mail coaches which collect there for their nightly freights.

“The present Post-office was erected in 1660; but great additions have been made to it from time to time, though the whole is disjointed and inconvenient.

“The mode of carrying letters by the General Post was greatly improved a few years since, by a most admirable plan, invented by Mr. Palmer. Previously to its adoption, letters were conveyed by carts, without protection from robbery, and subject to delays. At present they are carried, according to Mr. Palmer's plan, by coaches, distinguished by the name of mail-coaches, provided with a well-armed guard, and forwarded at the rate of eight miles an hour, including stoppages. Government contracts with coach-keepers merely for carrying the mail, the coach-owner making a profitable business besides, of carrying passengers and parcels. It is not easy to imagine a combination of different interests to one purpose, more complete than this. The wretched situation, however, of the horses, on account of the length of the stages which they are frequently driven, is a disgrace to the character ~424~~ of the British nation, and requires the interference of the legislature. No stage should exceed twelve miles in length.

“The rapidity of this mode of conveyance is unequalled in any country, and the present rate of charge for each passenger is little more than sixpence per mile.

“Houses having boxes, for receiving letters before five o'clock, are open in every part of the Metropolis; and after that hour bell-men collect the, letters during another hour, receiving a fee of one 'penny for each letter. But, at the General Post-office, in Lombard Street, letters are received till seven o'clock: after which time, till half an hour after seven, a fee of sixpence must be paid; and from half after seven till a quarter before eight, the postage must also be paid, as well as the fee of sixpence.”

“Well,” said Tallyho, “for a place of such public utility and constant resort, I must confess I expected to see a building of the most magnificent kind; but I am also puzzled to conceive how such extensive business can be carried on with so much regularity as it is.”

“Your observation,” replied his Cousin, “exactly coincides with that of many others; but you will some day or other be as much surprised on other subjects, for there are places in London where mercantile and legal business is conducted in situations of obscurity, of which you can have no conception; but as a national establishment, though its internal regulations are good, its external appearance is no recommendation to it. But come, let us proceed towards home, I have a call or two to make on the road, for as we depart quickly for the open fields, and are to bid adieu to London smoke as well as London Stone, we have but little time to spare, so let us post away.”

Bob, alive to this subject, did not require a second hint, but taking the arm of Dashall, they proceeded along Cheapside, made a call at Mortimer's, the Gun-smith's on Ludgate hill, provided themselves with all necessary shooting apparatus; and Tom, ever mindful of the variety which he conceived would be needful to render rusticity agreeable on their way, purchased a pair of boxing gloves, a backgammon board, and other amusing articles, to provide, as he said, against a rainy day.

On arrival at home, they were presented with a letter from Sparkle, announcing his arrival at his new mansion, and expressing a hope that he should have the pleasure of ~425~~ meeting his friends within a day or two; expatiating with great apparent delight upon the happiness of his own situation, and promising lots of amusement, in detailing to them the events of his peregrinations. This operated as an additional spur to the speed of their departure, and it was agreed that they should start the next morning.

“I don't know,” said Bob, “whether I should really like a continued Life in London; I have seen many of its comforts and many of its inconveniences.” “Then,” replied Tom, “you may certainly, by the exercise of your reason, and the decision of your judgment, upon mature reflection, strike the balance; and if you do not give it in favour of the former, I shall entertain doubts upon your sagacity.”

“Well,” continued Bob, “I shall now have a fine opportunity for drawing out a distinct account, and when done, I will submit the result to your inspection.”

Every thing being prepared, they were on the road to Belville Hall at an early hour the next morning.

As the occurrences of a Country excursion, or the delineation of a Country Life, form no part of the intended plan of this Work, we shall not enter into any detailed account; but leaving our Heroes in the pursuit of fresh game, under new circumstances, and in somewhat new situations, bear in our minds their intended return, to engage, contemplate, and enjoy a future review of the complicated, yet ever new and ever varying scenes of a Real Life in London, with a determination to meet them on arrival, and not lose sight of them in their future rambles.

END OF VOL. I.

REAL LIFE IN LONDON

OR, THE

FURTHER RAMBLES AND ADVENTURES OF BOB TALLYHO, ESQ.,

AND HIS COUSIN THE HON. TOM DASHALL, ETC., THROUGH

THE METROPOLIS; EXHIBITING A LIVING PICTURE

OF FASHIONABLE CHARACTERS, MANNERS, AND

AMUSEMENTS IN HIGH AND LOW LIFE

BY an AMATEUR

EMBELLISHED AND ILLUSTRATED WITH A SERIES OF

COLOURED PRINTS, DESIGNED AND ENGRAVED

BY MESSRS. HEATH, AIKEN, DIGHTON,

BROOKE, ROWLANDSON, ETC.

VOLUME II

A NEW EDITION

METHUEN & CO. LONDON

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter I

A return to the metropolis, 2. Instance of exorbitant charges, 3. Field-marshal Count Bertrand, 4. Lines on the late Napoleon, 5. A mysterious vehicle, 6. The devil in Long Acre, 7. The child in the hay, 8. A family triumvirate, 9. Egyptian monuments, 10. Relations of Gog and Magog discovered, 11. The Theban ram, 12. Egyptian antiquities, 13. Egyptian mummies, &c. 14. Curiosities of the museum, 15. Statues of Bedford and Fox, 16. The knowing one deceived, 17. Covent Garden Market, 18. Miss Linwood's exhibition, 19.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter II

Tothill-fields Bridewell, 20. Perversion of justice, 21. A laudable resolution, 22. Success and disappointment, 23. A story out of the face, 24. A critical situation, 25. A hair- breadth escape, 26. Kidnappers, or crimps, 27. Summary justice averted, 28. Swindling manoeuvres, 29. Estates, &c. in nubibus, 30. Fetters and apathy, 31. Urchin thief picking-pockets, 32. Juvenile depravity, 33.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter III

Life in St. George's Fields, 34. Chums--Day rules, &c. 35. Hiring a horse--A bolter, 36. Characters of Abbot's priory, 37. Introductory sketch, 38. The flying pieman, 39. Commercial activity, 40. A cutting joke, 41. Magdalen Hospital, 42. Curious anecdote, 43. Surrey Theatre, &c, 44. Admixture of characters, &c. 45.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter IV

Entry to Abbott's park, 46. A world within walls, 47. Finding a friend at home, 48. Exterior of the chapel, 49. A finish to education, 50. The walking automaton, 51. The parliamentary don, 52. The tape merchant, &c. 53. A morning in the Bench, 54. Prison metamorphoses, 55. Friendly congratulations, 56. Preparations for a turn to, 57. The college cries, 58. Another real character, 59. A mutual take-in, 60. A college dinner, 61. Free from college rules, 62. A heavy-wet party, 63. Keeping the game alive, 64. An agreeable surprise, 65. Harmony disturbed, 66.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter V

London munificence, 67. Vauxhall Bridge, 68. Millbank Penitentiary, 69. Metamorphoses of time, 70. Cobourg Theatre, 71. Retrospection, 72. Intellectual progress, 73. Wonders of the moderns, 74. Bridge-Street association, 75. Infidel pertinacity, 76. City coffee house, 77. St. Paul's Cathedral, 78. Clockwork and great bell, 79. Serious cogitations disturbed, 80. A return homeward, 81.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter VI

Westminster Abbey, 82. Monuments--Poets' corner, 83. Henry Seventh's chapel, 84. Interesting prospect, 85. Fees exacted for admission, 86. Westminster Hall--Whitehall, 87. Sir Robert Wilson, 88. Temptations to depredation, 89. Sympathy excited, 90. A sad story strangely told, 91. Fleet Street-- Doctor Johnson, 92. Fleet Market, 93. The market in an uproar, 94. The rabbit pole-girl, 95. Princess of Cumberland, 96. Doubts of royal legitimacy, 97. Mud-larks, picking up a living, 98. The boil'd beef house, 99. A spunger, 100. Gaol of Newgate, 101. Jonathan Wild's residence, 102. Entering the Holy Land, 103. The Holy Land, 104. Salt herrings and dumplings, 105. Deluge of beer, 106. Mrs. C*r*y, 107. Andrew Whiston, 108.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter VII

A dinner party, 109. Complimentary song, 110. Irish posting, 111. Extraordinary robbery, 112. Follies of fashion--ennui, 113. A set-to in a gambling house, 114. A nunnery--the Lady abbess, 115. Life in a cellar, 116. Advantageous offer rejected, 117. “Bilge water not whiskey,” 118. Aqua fortis and aqua fifties, 119. A quarrel--appeal to justice, 120. Finale of a long story, 121.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter VIII

An unexpected visitor, 122. Private accommodations, 123. The hero of Waterloo, 124. “The lungs of the metropolis,” 125. How to cut up a human carcass. 126. Resurrectionists, 127. A perambulation of discovery, 128. Irish recognition, 129. A discovery--Mother Cummings, 130. Wife hunting, 131. Elopement, 132. Female instability, 133. Manouvres Return to town, 134. Making the most of a good thing, 135. Ingenious female shop-lifter, 136.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter IX

Thieves of habit and necessity, 137. A felicitous meeting, 138. Shopping--Ludicrous anecdote, 139. A tribute of respect, 140. Royal waxworks, Fleet Street, 141. Sir Felix as Macbeth, 142. Irish love, 143. Apathy in the midst of danger, 144. “No wassel in the lob,” 145. The bear at Kensington Palace, 146.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter X

A change of pursuits, 147. Almack's Rooms, 148. A fancy- dress ball, 149. Selection of partners, 150. Family portraits, 151. A rout and routed, 152. Pleasures of matrimony, 153. The discomfited Virtuoso, 154.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XI

Frolics of Greenwich fair, 155. Dr. Eady--Wall chalking, 156. Packwood and puffing, 157. Greenwich Hospital, 158. Greenwich pensioners, 159. Veterans at ease, 160. The old commodore, 161. “Fought his battles o'er again,” 162. The Chapel--Hall, &e. 163.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XII

An early hour in Piccadilly, 164. Cleopatra's needle, 165. A modest waterman, 166. Interesting scenery, 167. Philosophy in humble life, 168. Southwark Bridge, 169. London Bridge- The Shades, 170. Itinerant musicians, 171. “Do not leave your goods,” 172. Riches of Lombard Street, 173. Mansion House, 174. Curious case in justice room, 175. A reasonable proposition, 176.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XIII

An hour in the Sessions House, 177. A piteous tale of distress, 178. Low life, 179. Serious business, 180. A capture, 181. Johnny-raws and green-horns, 182. Decker the prophet, 183. A devotee in danger, 184.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XIV

A morning at home, 185. High life, 186. Converting felony into debt, 187. Scene in a madhouse, 188. Apathy of undertakers, 189. A provident undertaker, 190. A bribe rejected, 191. Antiquated virginity, 192. Arrangements for Easter, 193. A Sunday morning lounge, 194. Setting out for Epping hunt, 195. Involuntary flight, 196. Motley groups on the road, 197. Disasters of cockney sportsmen, 198. A beautiful crature of sixty, 199. Tothill-fields fair, 200. Whimsical introduction, 201. Ball at the Mansion-House, 202.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XV

Guildhall, 203. Palace Yard--Relieving Guard, 204. The regions below, 205. An old friend in the dark, 206. Seeing clear again, 207. A rattler, 208.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XVI

Civic festivity, 209. Guildhall, 210. Council chamber-- Paintings, 211. City public characters, 212. A modern Polyphemus, 213. A classic poet, 214. Rhyming contagious, 215. Smithfield prad-sellers, 216. Jockeyship in the east, 217. A peep at the Theatre, 218. The Finish, Covent Garden, 219. Wags of the Finish, 220. Smoking and joking, 222.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XVII

A morning visit, 223. The fine arts, 224. Public exhibitions, 225. Living artists, 226. Horse Guards-- Admiralty, 227. Westminster Bridge, 228. Promenade Rooms, 229. Improvements in the Park, 230. Ludicrous anecdote, 231. A crazy fabric, 232. Regal splendour, 233. Marlborough House, 234. Limmer's Hotel, 235. Laconic prescription, 236. How to take it all, 237. How to get a suit of clothes, 238. Ingenious swindling, 239. Talent perverted, 240.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XVIII

The Harp, Drury Lane, 241. Wards of city of Lushington, 242. The social compact, 243. A popular election, 244. Close of the poll, 245. Oratorical effusions, 246. Harmony and conviviality, 247. Sprees of the Market, 248. A lecture on heads, 249. A stroll down Drury Lane, 250. A picture of real characters, 251. “The burning shame,” 253. Ludicrous procession, 254.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XIX

An old friend returned, 255. A good object in view, 256. An alarming situation, 257. Choice of professions, 258. Pursuit of fortune, 259. Advantages of law, 260. A curious law case, 261. Further arrangements, 262.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XX

St. George's day, 263. Royalty on the wing, 264. Progress to the levee, 265. An unfortunate apothegm, 266. How to adjust a quarrel, 267. Wisdom in wigs, 268. A classical acquaintance, 269. Royal modesty, 270. Ludicrous anecdote, 271. A squeeze in the drawing-room, 272. Pollution of the sanctorum, 273. Procession of mail coaches, &c. 274. A parody, 275. Two negatives make a positive, 276. Remarkable anecdote, 277. Marrow-bones and cleavers, 278. The king and the laureat, 279. A remonstrance, 280. Hint at retrenchment, 281.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XXI

Diversity of opinions, 282. A fresh start, 283. A critique on names, 284. The Cafe Royale, Regent Street, 285. A singular character, 286. Quite inexplicable, 287. Development, 288. Aquatic excursion, 289. A narrow escape, 290. Tower of London, 291. The lost pilot found, 295. River gaiety, 296. Rowing match, 297.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XXII

The tame hare, 298. Ingenuity of man, 299. London sights and shows, 300. Automaton chess player, 301. South sea bubble, 302. New City of London tavern, 303. Moorfields, 304. Epitaph collector, 305. Monumental gleanings, 307. Voluminous collectors, 309. A horned cock, 310. Extraordinary performance, 311. Female salamander, 312. Regent's Canal, 313. Anecdote of a gormandizer, 314. Eating a general officer alive, 315. A field orator, 316.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XXIII

Munster simplicity, 317. A visit to an astrologer, 318. A peep into futurity, 319. Treading-mill, 320. An unexpected occurrence, 321. The sage taken in, 322. Statue of ill luck, 323. A concatenation of exquisites, 324. How to walk the streets, 325. How to make a thoroughfare, 326. Dog stealers, 327. Canine knavery, 328. A vexatious affair, 329. How to recruit your finances, 330. A domestic civic dinner, 331. The very respectable man, 332.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XXIV

Vauxhall Gardens, 334, Various amusements, 335. Sober advice, 336. Fashionable education, 337. University education, 338. Useful law proceedings, 339. How to punish a creditor, 340. Exalted characters, 341. Profligacy of a peer, 342. Mr. Spankalong, 343. Other characters of ton, 344. Sprig of fashion, 345. An everlasting prater, 346. And incorrigible fribble, 347. Kensington Gardens and Park, 348. Statue of Achilles, 349.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XXV

A medley of characters, 353. Fashionables, 354. More fashionables, 355. More life in St. Giles's, 356. Reconnoitring--a discovery, 357. Tragedy prevented, 358. Fat, fair, and forty, 359. Philosophic coxcombs, 360 Blanks in society, 361.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XXVI

A ride, 362. Exceptions to trade rivalship, 363. Effects of superior education, 364. Affectation in names, 365. Portraits of governesses, 366. Road to matrimony, 367. Villainy of private madhouses, 369. Appearances may deceive, 370.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XXVII

Pleasing intelligence, 371. Moralizing a little, 373. Cries of London, 374. The Blacking Poet, 375. Literary squabble 376. Curious Merchandise, 377.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XXVIII

A new object of pursuit, 378. Royal visit to Scotland, 379. Embarkation, 381. Royal recollections, 38, 2.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XXIX

Port of London, 383. Descriptive entertainment, 384. A rea swell party, 385. An Irish dancing master, 386. Female disaster, 387. Blackwall--East India Docks, 388. Sir Robert Wigram, 389. Domestic happiness, 390. West India Docks, 391. Loudon Docks, 393. News from home, 394.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XXX

Travelling preparations, 395. Whimsical associations, 396. Antiquity and origin of signs, 397. Signs of altered times, 398. Ludicrous corruptions, 399. A curious metamorphosis, 400. A sudden breeze, 401. A smell of powder, 402.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XXXI

An unexpected visitor, 403. Sketches of fashionable life, 404. A Corinthian rout, 405. A Corinthian dinner party, 406. A new picture of real life, 409. More wise men of the East, 411.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XXXII

Anticipation of danger, 415. Smoke without fire, 416. Fonthill Abbey, 417. Instability of fortune, 419. Wealth without ostentation, 420. Eccentricity of character, 421. Extremes meeting, 422.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XXXIII

Sketches of new scenes, 423. A critical essay on taste, 424. The pleasures of the table, 425. A whimsical exhibition, 426. Canine sobriety, 427.

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Chapter XXXIV

Anticipation, 428. Obligation, 429. Change of subjects, 430 Magasin de Mode, 431. Bell, Warwick Lane, 432. Bull and Mouth Street, 433. Bull and Mouth Inn, 434. Jehu chaff, 435. Adieu to London, 436.

LIST OF THE PLATES

The Ladder of Life Frontispiece.

Illustrated Title Page.

British Museum 10

King's-Bench Prison 62

King Charles's Crib 130

Blue Ruin

Almack's Rooms 196

Easter Hunt

Coster-mongers

A Stroll down Drury-Lane 250

Presentation at the Levée 263

Ascot Races

A Real Swell Party 386

Bull and Mouth Inn 434

REAL LIFE IN LONDON

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us