Chapter XII
And have you not heard of a jolly young Waterman, At Blackfriar's Bridge who is used still to ply! Who feathers his oars with such skill and dexterity.
Winning each heart, and delighting each eye: He looks So neat, and he rows so steadily, The maidens all flock to his boat so readily, And he eyes the young rogues with so charming an air That this Waterman ne'er is in want of a fare.
~164~~ IT was in one of those inviting mornings, mild and temperate, that Dashall and Tallyho, lounged along Piccadilly, observant of passing events, and anticipating those of more interest which might occur in the course of another day devoted to the investigation of Real Life in London.
The street already exhibited its usual bustle. The early coaches were rattling along on their way to their respective inns, loaded with passengers, inside and out, from the western parts of the country; the ponderous waggon, the brewer's dray, and not less stunning din of the lighter and more rapid vehicles, from the splendid chariot to the humble tax-cart, combined to annoy the auricular organs of the contemplative perambulator, and together with the incessant discord of the dust-bell, accompanied by the hoarse stentorian voice of its athletic artist, induced Squire Tallyho to accelerate his pace, in order to escape, as he said, “this conspiration of villainous sounds,” more dissonant than that of his hounds at fault, and followed by his friend Dashall, slackened not his speed, until he reached the quietude of the new street leading to the King's Palace, in Pall Mall.
In Regent Place (at the extremity of this fine street) the two friends paused in admiration of the noble pile of buildings, which had on this new interesting spot so rapidly risen, as if by the direction of that necromantic and nocturnal architect, the Genius of the Wonderful Lamp.
~165~~ “Until lately, Carlton House, or more properly, now the King's Palace, was hid from observation, and the Royal view, in front of his princely mansion, was bounded to the opposite side of the way, the distance of a few yards only; now the eye enjoys a perspective glance of a spacious and magnificent street, terminating in a handsome public edifice, and yet terminating in appearance only, for here the new improvements sweep shortly to the left, and our attention is attracted to a superb circus, or quadrant, from whence without further deviation, Regent Street continues in lengthened magnificence, until it unites itself in affinity of grandeur with Great Portland Place.”
Thus far had Dashall proceeded, when the Squire expressed his surprise that the new street had not been so planned as to lead, in one direct and uninterrupted line, from Pall Mall to its ultimate termination.
“Then indeed,” answered his friend, “it would have been one of the finest streets in the world.” “Here too,” continued the Squire, “is a manifest deficiency in Regent Place, there is a vacuum, it ought to be supplied with something, be it what it may, for the eye to rest on.”
“True, and your idea has been anticipated. One of the most interesting amongst the antiquities of Egypt, the column known as Cleopatra's Needle{1} is destined to raise
1 CLEOPATRA'S NEEDLE.
The Court of Common Council + Fogrum, Botlieram, Gotham, &c. a full meeting.
Fog. (Laying down a newspaper.) The City should be told of it.--They say That Cleopatra's Needle's to be stuck In front of Carlton House!
Got. They'll make the square A pin-cushion.
Bot. No! worse--a needle-case. Has my Lord Sidmouth sent no letter yet To my Lord Mayor!--It should be pasted up.
Fog. 'Tis said the Deptford Sheer-hulk has been cleared Of all its vagabonds, to bring it here.
Hot. This beats Whitechapel hollow. What's its weight?
Fog. About three hundred tons.
Bot. All solid steel? A pond'rous weapon for a lady's handling!
Fog. No, stone with scratches on't; and here they say They're making five-mile telescopes to read them!
But. Zounds! what a strapping hand she must have had! Who was the sempstress?
Fog. Sir, a giantess,
About ten thousand yards--without her shoes, Her thimble has been guessed, tho' rotten now, To fill the place they call the Lake of Maris, By Alexandria!--Nay, the noseless tilings That sit upon their tails in Russell Street, Were Cleopatra's pebbles, taws and dolls!
Bot. Why, what a monstrous thread she must have used!
Fog. The Chronicle here says--a patent twist Of elephants' legs, and dromedaries' spines, And buffaloes' horns!
Got. What was her favourite work?
Fog. (Rising majestically) Sir, she sewed pyramids!
All lift their hands and eyes in silence.--The Council adjourns.
~166~~ its lofty summit in Regent Place, and the western will shortly outrival the eastern wonder of the metropolis.{1}
1 The Monument.
“Where London's column pointing to the skies, Like a tall bull! lifts its head and lies.”
“By the bye, let us once more extend our excursion to the Monument, the day is delightful, and the atmosphere unclouded. We will approximate the skies, and take a bird's-eye view of the metropolis.” In conformity with this suggestion the Squire submitted himself to the guidance of his friend, and an aquatic trip being agreed on, they directed their progress to Spring Garden Gate, and thence across the Park, towards Westminster Bridge.
“A boat, a boat, your honour,” vociferated several clamorous watermen, all in a breath; of whose invitation Dashall took not any notice; “I hate importunity,” he observed to his friend. Passing towards the stairs he was silently but respectfully saluted by a modest looking young man, without the obtrusive offer of service.--“Trim your boat, my lad,” this was the business of a moment; “now pull away and land us at the Shades--'of Elysium,'” said the Squire, terminating the instructions rather abruptly, of the amphibious conveyancer. “I am rather at a loss to know,” said the waterman, “where that place is, but if your honors incline to the Shades at London Bridge, I'll row you there in the twirling of a mop-stick.” “The very spot,” said Dashall, and the waterman doffing his jacket, and encouraged to freedom by the familiar manner of the two strangers, ~167~~ plied his oars lustily, humming, in cadence, the old song:
“I was, d'ye see a waterman, As tight and blythe as any, 'Twixt Chelsea town and Horsley-down, I gain'd an honest penny.”
They now glided pleasantly on the serene bosom of the Thames, and enjoyed, in mute admiration, the beauties of a variegated prospect, which, if equalled, is at least not excelled by any other in the universe. On either side of this noble river, a dense mass of buildings presented itself to the eye, and as the buoyant vehicle proceeded, the interest of the varying scene increased in progressive proportion. Thousands of barges skirted the margin of the lordly stream, and seemed like dependant vassals, whose creation and existence were derived from and sustained by the fiat of old father Thames; and imagination might well pourtray the figure of the venerable parent of this magnificent stream regulating its rippling wave, and riding, in the triumph of regal sway, over his spacious domains. The grandeur of the public edifices on the left, the numerous indications of art on the right, the active industry on both sides, and the fairy-like boats of pleasurable conveyance gliding to and fro', and shooting, in the distance, through one or other of the lofty arches of Waterloo Bridge, produced an effect imposingly grand, and was dwelt upon by our hero of Belville Hall, particularly with mingled sensations of surprise, admiration, and delight.
Silence had prevailed for some time, with the exception of the waterman, who now and then carroll'd a stanza responsive to the stroke of the oar, when the attention of his fare was drawn towards him.
“You seem to enjoy a merry life, my good friend,” said the Squire.
“Ay, ay, your honour, God bless you, why should not I? At my poor home, and your honour knows that the cottage of the peasant is equally dear to him as is the Palace to the Prince, there is my old woman, with her five little ones, all looking forward to the happiness of seeing me in the evening, after the labours of the day; and to feel that one is cared for by somebody, is a sweet consolation, amidst all our toils,--besides, your honour, the old times are partly come round again; half-a-crown will go farther, aye, thrice-told, now, than it did a few ~168~~years ago;--then hang sorrow, I am a contented waterman, your honour; so d----n the Pope, long life to King George the Fourth, and success to the land that we live in!” “Here,” said Dashall, “is an heterogeneous mixture of prejudice, simplicity and good nature.”
“You are but a young man, and cannot long have followed your present profession.--Is it from choice that you continue it.”
“Why, your honour, I served an apprenticeship to it, am not long out of my time, and continue it as well from choice as necessity; the first because I like it, and lastly, as our parson says, because in any other situation I could serve neither my neighbour nor myself.”
By this time the tiny bark had shot the centre arch of Waterloo; and new scenes of interest presented themselves, in ever-varying succession, as they proceeded towards Blackfriars. Somerset House wore, particularly, an aspect of great and imposing effect, and not less, as they ploughed the liquid element, was the interest excited, and the reminiscence of the Squire brought into action by the appearance of the Temple Gardens.--The simple, yet neatly laid out green-sward, reminded him of the verdant slope on part of his domains at Belville Hall, but here the resemblance finished; a diminutive, although pure and limpid rivulet only, passed the slope alluded to, and here was a world of waters, into which the influx of ten thousand such rivulets would produce no apparent increase. Amidst these cogitations by the Squire, and others of an unknown description by Dashall, the boat passed underneath Blackfriars' Bridge, and the lofty doom of St. Paul burst upon the view of the two associates, with gigantic majesty, and withdrew from their minds every impression save that of the towering object in view, superseding the consideration of all else, either present or retrospective.
“Rest on your oars,” was the order now given by the two friends, and while the waterman implicitly obeyed the mandate, they gazed with enthusiasm, on the stupendous edifice, seen perhaps, to better advantage from the river than from any other station, and felt proud in their affinity to a country and countryman, capable, the former of instituting, and the latter of carrying into effect so august an undertaking.{1}
1 During the building of St. Paul's Church, a country carpenter applied to the Overseer of the workmen for employment as a carver. The Overseer smiling at the man's temerity, hearing he had never worked in London, it was observed by Sir Christopher Wren, who was present, who calling the man to him, asked him what he had chiefly worked at in the country? “Pig-troughs, &c.” was his answer. “Well then,” says Sir Christopher, “let us see a specimen of your workmanship in a sow and pigs.” The man returned in a few days, having performed his part with such exquisite skill, that he was immediately employed; and in tine, executed some of the most difficult parts of the Cathedral, to the great astonishment of all that knew the circumstance. So true it is that genius is often lost in obscurity.
169~~ Again proceeding on their way, they arrived in a few minutes, at another amongst the many in the metropolis, of those surprising works of public utility which reflect the highest honor on the laudable enterprize of the present times,--the Iron Bridge, known as Southwark Bridge, leading from the bottom of Queen Street, Cheapside to the Borough. It is constructed of cast-iron, and, from the river particularly, presents an appearance of elegance and magnificence; consisting of three arches only, the spacious span of each, stretching across the Thames in towering majesty, affords an aquatic vista equally novel and interesting.
Gliding on the pacific wave, the “trim-built wherry” now passed under the lofty elevation of the centre arch; and our observers were struck with the contrast between the object of their admiration and its ancient neighbour, London Bridge, that “nameless, shapeless bulk of stone and lime,” with its irregular narrow arches, through which the pent-up stream rushes with such dangerous velocity.
“This gothic hulk,” said the Squire, “is a deformity in the aspect of the river.” “And ought at least to be pulled down, if not rebuilt,” added his Cousin. “Even on the principle of economy, the large and incessant expenditure in support of this decayed structure, would be much more profitably applied in the erection of a new bridge of correspondent grandeur with the first metropolis in the universe; but the citizens seem inclined to protract the existence of this heavy fabric, as a memento of the bad taste of their progenitors.”
“Full many a gem of purest ray serene, The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear; Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness in the desert air.'
~170~~ The indefatigable waterman continued to ply his oars, sans intermission, and in a few minutes our two associates in adventure were safely landed a short distance westward of the bridge. After remunerating the waterman, they ascended the stairs with an appetite quickened by the water breeze, and retired into the Shades, close at hand, for refreshment, previous to a renewal of their excursion.
The Shades, near London Bridge, is a house, or rather cellar, much resorted to by respectable citizens of “sober fame,” induced chiefly by the powerful attraction of genuine wines, which may here be had either drawn immediately from the wood, and served in regular standard pewter measures, or in bottles, also of full measure, containing the pure beverage, of various age and vintages. To these cellars numbers of the most respectable mercantile characters adjourn daily; enjoying the exhilarating juice of the grape, and further attracted by the pleasantness of situation, as commanding a full view of the river, whence the refreshing breeze is inhaled and enjoyed.
Here then, our heroes recruited; and while taking their wine, Bob was much gratified by the performance of an itinerant band of musicians, playing outside, some of the latest and most popular airs, in a masterly style of execution. “Among other numerous refinements and improvements of the age,” observed Dashall, “may be considered that of our itinerant metropolitan musicians, for instead of the vile, discordant and grating hurdy-gurdy; the mechanical organ grinder, and the cat-gut scraper, “sawing a tune,” we have now parties who form themselves into small bands of really scientific and able performers, who from instruments well selected produce a combination of delightful melody; and this progress of harmony is equally evident with respect to vocalists, who frequently posting themselves opposite some well frequented tavern or coffee-house, amuse the inmates with catches, glees, duets, &c. and trust to the liberal feelings which the “concord of sweet sounds may have inspired, for remuneration and encouragement.”
Scarcely had Dashall concluded his remarks, when the musical party ceased their instrumental exertions, and, diversifying the entertainment, one of the performers struck up a song, which we here present to the reader as a subject not inapplicable to our work.~171~~
In London where comical jokes go free, There are comical modes of cheating, Birch-brooms are cut up for Souchong and Bohea, And plaster for bread you are eating! And plaster for bread you are eating!
(Spoken) “How do you do, Mrs. Caphusalent I hope you approved of the genuine tea.” “O yes, new brooms sweep clean, and I have no occasion to buy birch ones, while I deal at your shop for tea.” “There's nothing like my cheap bread,” says Doughy the baker. “O yes,” says Neddy, “you forget plaster of Paris is very like it.”
What are you at? each knave may cry, Who feels my honest rhymes; What are you after's? my reply,-- There never were such times! There never were such times!
In Accum's test you'll find it clear, For spirits of wine read Royal gin! Quashee and drugs they call strong beer, And Turtle soup is Ox's shin! And Turtle soup is Ox's shin!
(Spoken) “By the powers of Moll Kelly, Mr. Max, but you've murdered my dear friend Patrick O'Shaughnessy, for after taking a noggin of your blue ruin, he went to blow out the candle on stepping into bed, when the poor dear creature went off in a blaze, and set fire to the house. Its all nothing at all but spirits of wine, you bog-trotting swindler!”
Moist sugar is made from the best red sand, New milk from whiting and water! Sloe juice poisons half the land, And the weights get shorter and shorter! And the weights get shorter and shorter!
(Spoken) “I hope,” says Mr. Deputy Doublethroat, “you found the port I sent you last of the right sort: six years in bottle, Sir, I warrant it made your heart glad.” “You mean my bowels sad, Mr. Deputy. Out of six friends whom I invited to partake of it four have already been booked inside passengers for the other world, and my dear Mrs. Fribble and me have been confined with inflammation ever since. Instead of importer of foreign wines, Mr. Deputy, I'd have you write up retailer of English poisons.” {1}
1 The following receipt is copied from a book, which is there said to be worth the price of the volume. “What is drank as port wine, is very often only a mixture of malt liquors, red wine, and turnip juice. For the benefit of economical readers, the following are the proportions: forty- eight gallons of liquor pressed from turnips, eight gallons of malt spirits, and eight gallons of good port wine, coloured with cochineal, and roughened with elder tops. It should stand two years in casks, and one in bottles. If rough cider is substituted for turnip juice, and Coniac brandy for malt spirits, the wine will be the better.”
Turkey-coffee is Horse-beans ground, Irish eggs are boil'd in lime: In every trade deception's found, Except it be in yours or mine! Except it be in yours or mine!
(Spoken) “There's more milk drank in London in a week than all the Cows in England could give in a fortnight;” says Blunderskull. “How can that be?” “Why to be sure, because two-thirds of it is white-wash!”
What are you at? each knave may cry, Who feels my honest rhymes: What are you after's? my reply,-- There never were such times! There never were such times!
It was but a few steps from the Shades to the Monument, to which our adventurers were now pursuing their way, when they met with an incident not unworthy of observation. Do not leave your goods, is the friendly admonition generally inscribed, in large characters, over the resting place for porters, throughout the metropolis. Opposite the church of Saint Magnus, close by London Bridge, a porter having pitched his load, turned his back upon it, and reclined himself against the post in careless ease, and security. It was just as our heroes approached, that the porter had turned himself round to resume his burden, when lo! it had vanished; in what manner no one can tell! without doubt, one of those numerous street-prowlers who are continually on the look out for prey, observing the remissness of the porter, had availed himself of the favourable opportunity, and quietly walked off with his booty. A crowd collected round the sufferer, but it afforded him neither sympathy nor relief. Our associates, however, contributed in mitigation of his loss, and proceeding up Fish-street Hill, were, in a few moments, shrouded under the towering column of the Monument.
Ascending the spiral stair-case of black marble, consisting of three hundred and forty-five steps, winding like a cork-screw, to the summit, our aspirants reached their aerial station in the gallery of this lofty edifice, and enjoyed one of the most variegated and extensively ~173~~ interesting prospects of any in the metropolis. Far as the eye could reach, skirting itself down the river, a forest of tall masts appeared, and the colours of all nations, waving gaily in the breeze, gave a splendid idea of the opulence and industry of the first commercial city in the universe. The moving panorama, far beneath the giddy height, resembled the flitting figures of a camera obscura; the spacious Thames was reduced to a brook; the stately vessels riding on its undulating wave seemed the dwarfish boats of the school-boy navigator; and glancing on the streets and along London Bridge, horses dwindled in appearance to mice, and carriages to children's toys! after having enjoyed, during several minutes, the prospects afforded by their elevated position, the two friends descended, and with a feeling of relief again trod the safer and less difficult path of terra firma.
Our observers now turned their direction westward, and passed into Lombard Street, chiefly formed of banking-houses and other public edifices. “This street,” said Dashall, “is noted as the focus of wealth, the point of convergence of civic riches, and its respectable bankers are not more dignified by the possession of superabundant property than enhanced in the estimation of their fellow-citizens by strictly conscientious honour and integrity.
“And of these not the least important in self-consequence is the jolly civic Baronet,” continued Dashall, “who has already come more than once within the scope of our observation.”
“Ecce homo! behold the man!” responded the Squire, and the Baronet was descried rolling his ponderous form from the opposite alley to his banking-house.
“It is rather unfortunate,” observed Dashall, “that nature has not kept pace with fortune, in liberality to the Baronet. Profuse in giving him a colossal magnitude of person, he exhibits a most disproportionable endowment of intellect. Unlike his great prototype Sir John, in one sense, but yet resembling him in another, 'He is not witty himself, but he occasions wit in others.'”
“You are very fond of making a butt of me,” observed the Baronet to a brother Alderman.--“By no means,” rejoined the latter, “I never was fond of an empty butt in my life.” “Is the worthy Baronet inclined at times, (asked the Squire) in his capacity of M.P. to irradiate the gloom of St. Stephens?”
~174~~ “O yes, frequently, particularly so when in the plenitude of his wisdom he conceives that he can enlighten the house with a modicum of information. The last time I heard him hold forth was as an apologist for the tumultuary loyalists at the Mansion House Meeting, when he delivered himself in a manner so heterogeneal of commonsense, and so completely in a style of egotism, as to excite the ridicule and risibility of the whole house, and discompose the gravity of even the speaker himself.”{1}
1 The following is a strictly literal versification of the Speech alluded to:
THE MANSION-HOUSE ROW, AND APOLOGY FOR THE LOYALISTS.
Being a literal versification of the eloquent Speech of Sir W--ll--m C--RT--s, Baronet, in the House of Commons, Friday, February 2, on the presentation, by Mr. John Smith, of the Petition of the Merchants of London.
I rise, Mr. Speaker, indulgence entreating A Speech while I make on the Mansion-house Meeting. The prior Requisition was certainly signed By men of good substance, with pockets well lin'd! With such I am ever good humour'd and civil, But worth, without wealth, I would pitch to the devil'. The Lord Mayor, I think, then, assum'd a position Of duty, in yielding to said Requisition; For may my oration be given to scorn, If ever I saw, from the day I was born, A list of more honoured, more propertied men, And probably never may see such again.
Now high as I prize both the merits and station, Of loyalists signing the first declaration; Permit me to say, it was too mild by half, Too much milk and water--Some Members may laugh-- I care not;--I say that it did not inherit The tythe of a loyal and time serving spirit. I'm charged too with signing it, nevertheless, I DID,--for I knew not how else to express My zeal, in supporting, with firm resolution, The Crown,--and Old England's decay'd Constitution! Who they are, Constitution and Crown that sustain, The people should now,--else we labour in vain! And, therefore, I sign'd the fore-named declaration. Altho' such a weak milk and water potation! For why should the loyalists smother their cause, And lose the high gain,--ministerial applause. 'Pon honour,--aye, even in detractions despite-- In corners and holes, Sir, I take no delight; And, never on any pursuit do I go, Of which 1 don't want the Almighty to know! I signed, Sir, the loyal, luke-warm declaration, To bring to its senses a turbulent nation! To cheer up His Majesty,--win his good graces, And keep his lov'd Ministers still in their places! The hon'rable member, my friend, who spoke last, Is not quite correct in detailing what pass'd At the Mansion-house Meeting; for patiently heard He was, until symptoms of riot appear'd. At last it broke out, with a vengeance 'tis true, And dire was the fracas! but what could we do, Where adverse opinion so warmly prevail'd, And each with revilings his neighbour assail'd? Why, Sir, to this house, I could prove in a minute, That greater majorities out than now in it, Of sound thinking persons, in these fair dominions, Are scouting the hon'rable member's opinions.
Well-bred, Sir, believe me, and good-looking people, Were wedg'd in the Mansion-house quite of a heap all; Whilst I, most politely, besought their attention, But no,--not a word was I suffer'd to mention! A party oppos'd me, altho' no long speeches I make,--(a kind lesson that prudence still teaches;) And waiting a hearing an hour, perhaps longer, The dissonant clamour grew fiercer and stronger! In fact, when I open'd my mouth, the commotion Exceeded in fury the storms of the ocean! Some hale stout young men, who had mix'd with the throng, And press'd, the conflicting addressers among, Escap'd from the Meeting in tumult and smother, And swore that they never would visit another!
I well recollect, in the year ninety-three, A similar fracas I happen'd to see; The place, Grocers' Hall, where contention was wrought, So high, that a stout battle-royal was fought! Indeed, save one Meeting, I ne'er knew a case, Where wrangling and fighting had not taken place! In that one, so happen'd, good luck to betide, Its fortunate members--were all on one side! Reverting again to the Mansion-house Row, When next our staunch loyalists mean to avow Their zeal,----may they issue a strong declaration, Then mix'd with a water and milk preparation! The gout in my toe, for I wore a great shoe, At last sent me home, without bidding adieu.
And now having said, Mr. Speaker, thus much I hope on this house the impression is such, The loyalists fully to clear, and their leader From charge, at that Meeting, of boisterous proceedure.
The Honourable Baronet now sat down, amid the ironical cheers, of the Treasury, and the tumultuous laughter of the whole house.
~175~~ The two partners in adventure had now reached the Mansion House. The Justice Room was open, and the friends ascended the stairs in order to witness the equitable dispensation of right by the Civic Sovereign.
The case now under investigation was a curious one, and excited the interest and amusement of a numerous auditory.
The itinerant exhibitor of a dancing bear, complained that the person (proprietor of a small menage) now summoned into the presence of his lordship, illegally withheld from him a monkey, his property, and the ci-devant associate of the ursine dancer aforesaid.
On the other hand, the master of the menage roundly asserted that he was the rightful proprietor of the monkey, and had been in possession of the animal for several years.
“My lord,” said the master of the bear, “let the monkey be produced, and I will abide by his choice between this man and me as his master.” This proposition appearing reasonable, and pug having been brought forward as evidence, before giving his testimony made a respectful obeisance to the Chief Magistrate, and so far as chattering and grinning were indicative of his good intentions, seemed desirous of expressing his courtesy to the auditory in general. After having stared about him for some time, with an inquisitive eye, and corresponding gesticulation, he discerned the bear-master, and springing into his arms with all the eagerness of affectionate recognition, expressed the utmost joy at the unexpected meeting, and when the other claimant attempted to approach, he repulsed him in the most furious manner, and clung to the friend of his election with renewed pertinacity.
Under these circumstances, the monkey was adjudged to the bear-master as his proper owner, and pug and his friend left the Justice Room, with mutual exchange of endearments.
Nothing else meriting notice, occurred to the two strangers in this their new scene of observation. The Civic Sovereign having resigned the chair to one of the Aldermen, in order that he might attend the Sessions at the Old Bailey, Dashall and the Squire, at the same time, retired with the intention (the day now waning apace) of making the best of their way home, which they reached without further adventure.~177~~
Chapter XIII
The charge is prepar'd, the lawyers are met, The judges all rang'd, a terrible show! I go undismay'd, for death is a debt, A debt on demand,--so take what I owe.
Since laws were made for every degree, To curb vice in others as well as in me; I wonder we ha'n't better company Upon Tyburn tree!
But gold from law can take out the sting, And if rich men like us were to swing 'Twould thin the land such numbers would string Upon Tyburn tree!
PURPOSING to spend an hour in the Sessions House at the Old Bailey, our adventurers started next morning betimes, and reaching their destination, took their seats in the gallery, for which accommodation they were charged one shilling each, which the Squire denominated an imposition, inquiring of his friend by what authority it was exacted, and to whose benefit applied, as from the frequent sittings of the Court, and general crouded state of the gallery, the perquisites must be considerable.
“Custom in every thing bears sovereign sway,” answered Dashall. “I know not whence this is derived, nor whose pockets are lined by the produce; but you will probably be surprised to learn, that a shilling admission is only demanded on common occasions, and that on trials of great public interest, from one to two guineas has been paid by every individual obtaining admission.”
The arrival of the Judges now terminated this colloquy. The Lord Mayor and several Aldermen were in waiting to receive them, and these sage expounders of the law were conducted to the Bench by the Sheriffs of London and Middlesex. The Chief Magistrate of the City uniformly and of right presiding at this Court, his Lordship ~178~~ took his seat on the same Bench with the Judges, and the usual forms having been gone through, the dispensation of justice commenced.
Several prisoners were tried and convicted of capital felony, during the short space of time that our associated observers remained in Court; but the cases of these wretched men, and the consciousness of their impending fate, seemed in no respect to operate upon their minds, as they left the bar apparently with perfect indifference.
An unfortunate man was next brought forward, and accused of having stolen from an auction room a couple of wine glasses. He was of respectable demeanor, and evidently had seen better days. When asked what he had to allege in his defence, the victim of misery preluding his story with a torrent of tears, told the following piteous tale of distress:
He had been in business, and sustained an unimpeachable integrity of character for many years. Independence seemed within his reach, when misfortune, equally unforeseen as inevitable, at all points assailed him! In the course of one disastrous year, death deprived him of his family, and adversity of his property. He had unsuccessfully speculated, and the insolvency of several who were considerably indebted to him, had completed his ruin! At the time he committed the act for which he stood convicted at that bar, he had not tasted food for three days, neither had he in the world a friend or relative to whom he could apply for relief. The Jury found him Guilty, but strongly recommended him to mercy. The Judge humanely observed, that the least possible punishment should be inflicted on the prisoner. He was then sentenced to a fine of one shilling, and to be discharged. A sum of money, the spontaneous bounty of the spectators, was immediately collected for him, while one of the Jury promised him employment, on his calling at his house on the following day. The gratitude of the poor man was inexpressible: the sudden transition from the abyss of despair to the zenith of hope, seemed to overwhelm his faculties. He ejaculated a blessing on his benefactors, and departed.
~179~~ Dashall and his friend were much affected by this incident. Another, however, presently occurred, of a more lively description. In the course of the next trial, the counsellor, on cross-examining a witness, found occasion to address him with, “Well, my old buck, I suppose you are one of those people who do not often go to church?”--“Perhaps,” said the other, “if the truth were known, I am as often there as you are.” The promptness of the reply produced a laugh, in which the witness very cordially joined. “What makes you laugh?” said the lawyer. “Is not every body laughing?” replied the other. “True,” said the man of law; “but do you know what they are laughing at?”--“Why, I think in my heart,” rejoined the fellow, “that they take either me or you to be a fool, but I do not know which!”
The Judge at this repartee could not retain his gravity; a tumult of mirth pervaded the whole Court, and the discomfited counsellor adjusted his wig and sat down.
During the few minutes longer that our heroes remained, nothing of interest occurring, they withdrew; and passing down the Old Bailey to Ludgate Street, and from thence towards the Temple, they crossed Fleet Street, and taking the direction of Shire Lane, were induced, by way of investigating Real Life in its lowest classification, to enter one of those too frequent receptacles of vice denominated Coffee Shops.
This was a house of notorious irregularity, the occupant of which had more than once experienced the visitation of the law for his utter contempt of social order--and from the present appearance of his guests, it did not seem that legal interference had effected moral amendment.
As our two friends entered this Augean Stable, a whisper of surprise, mingled with dismay, went round the motley assemblage of female street-drabs, cracksmen,{1} and fogle-hunters; and a wary glance of suspicion darted from the group “many a time and oft” on the new-comers, who notwithstanding kept possession of their seats, and ordering without apparent notice of the party a cup of coffee, apprehension subsided into security, the re-assured inmates resumed their interrupted hilarity, and our adventurers were thus afforded the means of leisurable observation.
1 Cracksmen (Burglars), Fogle-hunters (Pickpockets).
~180~~ The Squire, who had not perused the annals of blackguardism, and consequently was not an adept in the knowledge of the slang or vulgar tongue, was under the frequent necessity of applying to his friend for explanation of the obscure phraseology of those ladies and gentlemen of the pad, which Dashall contrived to occasionally interpret without the assistance or notice of its multitudinous learned professors.
The desire of witnessing the exhibition of Real Life in its lowest state of human degradation, induced a prolongation of stay by our two associates. In the meanwhile, “the mirth and fun grew fast and furious,” exemplified by dance, song, and revelry, interspersed with practical jokes, recriminative abuse, and consequent pugilistic exercise, where science and strength alternately prevailed; and in deficiency of other missiles, poker, tongs, coffee-cups, saucers, and plates, were brought into active requisition.--The scene was a striking illustration of “Confusion worse confounded.” Luckily our two observers were in a situation without the reach of injury; they therefore “smiled at the tumult and enjoyed the storm.”
The landlord now interfered in defence of his fragile property. Preliminaries of peace were agreed on, through his high mediation, and finally ratified betwixt the contending parties, ending as they began, like many other conflicting powers, statu quo ante bellum!
“And now to serious business we'll advance, says one of the King's of Brentford.
“But first let's have a dance.”
The present party followed exactly Mr. Baye's proposition; the dance and the row over, they now proceeded to serious business.
Seated in various groups, each engaged itself in conversation, which, from its almost inaudible expression, was singularly contrasted with the recent tumultuous uproar.
The next box where sat our two friends, was occupied by cracksmen and fogle-hunters, one of whom, whose superior skill gave him an ascendancy over his associates, had delineated on the table the plan of certain premises, and having given in a very low tone of voice, a verbal illustration to his fellow-labourers, with what intention it is not difficult to conjecture, observed, “We may as well pad (walk) it, as Sir Oliver (the moon) is not out to night.”
~181~~ The party to whom this remark was addressed, prepared to pad it accordingly,--when the desired egress was opposed by the entrance of three men, who unbuttoning their great coats, exhibited, each a hanger and brace of pistols, and took the whole community, male and female, into safe custody
This was a coup-de-main on the part of the captors, and sustained with the most perfect sang froid by the captured.
The officers next turned their attention to Dashall and Tallyho, who giving their cards, and candidly explaining the motives which led them into the temporary society of the prisoners, they were treated with becoming respect, the officers with their captives proceeding on their route to Bow Street, and our heros to the occurrence of future adventure.
Tallyho congratulated himself on his escape from expected mortification and inconvenience, but Dashall, whose more active and enterprizing mind was not to be checked by trifles, enjoyed the vague apprehensions of his friend, and by way of making amends for the penance they had inflicted on themselves in Shire Lane, agreed to dine and finish the evening at a Tavern in Covent Garden.
Thither, then, as they pursued their course, the Squire expressed his surprise that a final stop was not put to scenes such as they had just witnessed, and all such places of nefarious rendezvous, abolished by the vigilance of the police.
“On the contrary,” observed Dashall, “it is the interest of the police, not utterly to destroy these receptacles of vice. They are the toleration haunts of profligacy, where the officers of justice are generally assured of meeting the objects of their inquiry, and therefore, under proper restrictions, and an occasional clearance, the continuance of a minor evil is productive of public benefit, by arresting the progress of infamy, and preventing the extension of crime.”
Passing along the Strand, the humane feelings of the Squire were excited by apparently a mutilated veteran seaman, who in a piteous tone of voice, supplicated his charitable consideration. The applicant stated, that he had lost an arm and an eye, and was deprived the use of a leg, in the service of his country, without friend or home, and entirely destitute of the means of subsistence, that he had no other resource than that of a humble reliance on public benevolence. The Squire with his usual philanthropic promptitude drew out his purse, but his ~182~~ friend intercepted the boon, and inquired of the seaman under whom, in what ship, and in what action he had sustained his misfortunes. To these questions a satisfactory answer was given, and the claim of the man to compassion and relief was about to be admitted, when another inquiry occurred, “are you a pensioner?”
A pause ensued: in the interim the mendicant seeing a person approach, of whose recognition he was not at all ambitious, dropped in a moment his timber toe, unslung his arm, dashed a patch from his eye, and set off with the speed of a race-horse.
During the amazement of our two observers of Real Life, excited by this sudden and unexpected transformation, the officer, for such was the quondam acquaintance of the imposter, introduced himself to their notice. “Gentlemen,” said he, “you are not up to the tricks of London, that fellow on whom you were about to bestow your charity, and who has just now exhibited his agility, is one of the greatest imposters in London;--however, I shall not run him down at present.--I know his haunts, and reckon sure of my game in the evening.”
“I confess,” replied Dashall, “that in the present instance I have been egregiously deceived;--I certainly am not up to all the tricks of London, although neither a Johnny Raw nor a green-horn; and yet I would not wish to prove callous to the claim of distress, even if sometimes unguardedly bestowing the mite of benevolence on an undeserving object.”
“The Society for the Suppression of Mendicity in the Metropolis,” said the Officer, “think differently, they recommend that no relief should be given to street-beggars.”
“Then,” said Dashall, offended by the officer's interference,--“I envy them not the possession of their feelings,” and the two friends renewed their walk.
Proceeding, without further interruption, our pedestrians, were induced to intermingle with a crowd which had collected round a man who wore a most patriarchal redundancy of beard, and had been recognized by an acquaintance as a shoe-maker of the name of Cooke, a disciple of the American Prophet, John Decker.
~183~~ Their high mightinesses the mobility were mischievously inclined, and would certainly have grossly insulted, if not injured the poor devotee, had not Dashall and his friend taken him under their protection.{1} He had been quietly making his way through Covent Garden Market, when the greetings and surprise of his friend at his strange transformation, attracted the curiosity of the multitude, and his unhesitating declaration, that he meant to accompany the great Prophet to Jerusalem, excited derision and indignation against the unfortunate enthusiast, when luckily our two heros interposed their good offices and conducted the proselyte in safety to the Shakespeare Tavern.
1 On Monday, in consequence of a very great uproar on Sunday night, in Worcester Street, Southwark, about the house of the American Prophet, John Decker, that singular person was brought before the Magistrates of this office, the inhabitants of the neighbourhood having attributed the disturbance to the unfortunate fanaticism of the prophet and his followers.
The constables stated, that on Sunday night, at half-past eight o'clock, they saw a mob, consisting of about three hundred people, collected at the door of the house, and heard the cries of “murder” issue from within. The officers on going up stairs, found the Prophet lying on his back. Some persons who had been abusing him escaped, and the Prophet said the cause of their violence was, that he had refused to get out of his bed to preach. He was conveyed to the watch-house. The witnesses informed the Magistrate, that the Prophet had made some proselytes, who were actually about to leave the country with him, and accompany him upon an expedition to the Holy Land. The parish officers were naturally alarmed at the inconveniences to which such an emigration would expose them, and hoped that every thing the arm of the law could do would be done to prevent it. The fanatic spirit of some of the followers of the Prophet may be guessed at from the following facts:--
The officers who apprehended him, had, two or three times, in the course of Sunday evening, gone to the house in Worcester Street, and dispersed a large congregation that had assembled in the room appropriated to preaching. The Prophet preached first, and was succeeded by one of his most zealous followers, who was followed by another. This was constantly the practice, and during the service, which was being listened to with rapture, upwards of a dozen of the congregation seemed to be as violently engaged as the Prophet himself, whose sincerity is well known. One man, a shoe-maker, named Cooke, has actually sold off his stock and furniture, which were worth £300.; and if he were not known to be the greatest admirer of the Prophet might be called his rival, for he has allowed his beard to grow to an immense length, and goes about preaching and making converts. He has a little son, who looks half-starved, and is denied all animal food by the Prophet and his father, upon the principle of Pythagoras--that he might not be guilty of eating a piece of his own grand-mother. Another trades-man, who was most industrious, and attached to his wife and seven children, proposes to leave them all, and go to Jerusalem. His beard is also becoming indicative of his intention, and he sleeps, as the others who are struck by the Prophet do--with his clothes on. None of the sixteen families who reside in the house in which the Prophet lives, have, however, caught the infection, and the land-lady complained most severely of the annoyance to which she was subject.
Mr. Chambers said he expected to have heard that the Prophet was on his way to Jerusalem.
The Prophet said he only waited for a Tunisian vessel to set sail with his brother Cooke, and nine other of his brethren. Upon being questioned as to his inducing those men to leave their families, he said he did not take them, a higher power took them. After having stated the manner in which he had been pulled out of the bed, and declared that he forgave his enemies, he said, in answer to a question whether he was at Brixton, and worked there, “Yea,” and to the question whether he liked it, “Nay.”
Cooke, the shoe-maker, then stepped forward, and told the Magistrate that he was determined to follow his brother Decker to Jerusalem, but that the parish should suffer no inconvenience, for he should take his son with him on his pilgrimage. He said that they should not preach again where they had been so abused, but should remove to a house near the National School, in St. George's Fields, where they would preach till the day of their departure.
The Magistrate assured the Prophet that he should be committed if he preached again without a license, which he might have next Sessions for four-pence. The Prophet was then discharged.
Decker, it appeared, had baptized seventeen persons, since he commenced his labours in St. George's Fields.
~184~~ No remonstrances of Dashall were of any avail in inducing the pertinacious fanatic to forego his resolution of a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, and when the inquisitive numbers who still lingered in front of the tavern had dispersed, Cooke, with appropriate acknowledgment of the protection which had been afforded him, took his leave, after having unsuccessfully endeavoured to make converts of Dashall and the Squire to the tenets of Prophet Decker, or to prevail on them to accompany the sacred band in the projected expedition to Jerusalem.
Chapter XIV
My son, time was when by necessity, (Nought else could move me to the enterprize,) My steps were urg'd to London's wide domains, I made my will, as prudent friends advis'd;-- For little wot they, that beset with peril, I ever should return.--Safe though thou speed'st To London's wond'rous mart, thy pleasaut way, Think not that dangers cease, they but begin, When ent'ring the metrop'lis; slowly then Receive even Friendship's overtures, and shun The softer sex their wiles and blandishments; Walk cautiously the streets, of crowds beware, And wisely learn to fly each latent snare.
~185~~ AMONGST other occurrences of the preceding day, Cousin Bob adverted, at the breakfast table, to the confused intermixture of carriages, dissonant din of attendant lacqueys clamouring for vehicles, and the dangers occasioned by quarrelsome coachmen, precipitately, and at all hazards, rushing forwards to the doors of a mansion, on the breaking-up of a route, each claiming, and none willing to concede precedency in taking up their masters and mistresses,--” I am surprised,” said the Squire, “that any rational being would sacrifice his time and comfort in making one of an assemblage where within doors you are pressed to the dread of suffocation, and in making your exit, are environed by peril and difficulty.”
“Such,” rejoined Dashall, “are the follies of fashion. Its influence predominates universally; and the votarists of bon ton, are equally assiduous in the pursuit of their object, whether with the satellites in the gay and volatile regions of the court, or amongst those of 'sober fame' in the mercantile bustle of the city. In the purlieus of the great, bon ton is characterized by inconvenience; four or Ave hundred people, for example, invited to crowd a suite of rooms not calculated to accommodate half the number, the squeeze must be delightful! But
'Custom in every thing liears sovereign sway!'
~186~~ thence yield the followers of High Life in the West to the follies of fashion, where the enjoyment of ease is a subordinate, if not altogether exploded consideration.--Eastward on the other hand:
'I loves High Life, and all the joys it yields,' Says Madam Fussick, warm from Spitalfields. 'High Life's the day, 'twixt Saturday and Monday, 'And riding in a one-horse chay on Sunday, ''Tis drinking tea on summer afternoons, 'At Bagnigge Wells, in china and gilt spoons.'”
“Again,” added the Squire, “what a vast expence is incurred by these idle and ostentatious displays of luxury, without one object of advantage gained!”
“Unproductive result,” rejoined Tom, “is not always the case; it not unfrequently happens that a route and card-party are united; when the lady of the mansion generally contrives, by skill and finesse, to transfer a portion of the spoil into her own private treasury; and notwithstanding expense, there are those who have given splendid routes and entertainments, and at the same time, recruited their exhausted finances, at the sole charges of incautious tradesmen, who notwithstanding repeated losses, yet absorbed in the love of gain, become the dupes of avarice and credulity.--In the elucidation of my remark,--
'If old assertions can't prevail, Be pleased to hear a modern tale.'
“Not long since,” continued Dashall, “an aspiring young limb of the law, of property, in expectancy (but that is neither here nor there) and fertile in expedient, contrived to insinuate himself into the good fellowship of a few bon vivants; and resolving to irradiate with 'surprising glory' the galaxy of fashion, he furnished a house, by permission of an accommodating upholsterer, in a style of magnificence, and decorated a side-board with a splendid service of plate, borrowed auspiciously for the occasion from a respectable silversmith, on a promise of liberal remuneration and safe return; after effecting the object of its migration, in dazzling the eyes of his honourable friends at his projected entertainment.
~187~~ “Amidst the busy 'note of preparation,' the important day at last arrived; the suite of apartments became thronged with company, and every one admired the elegance of the furniture; the tasteful ornaments of the rooms; the brilliancy of the lights and massive construction of the valuable family plate! In fact every thing conspired to give eclat to the scene, and confirm the friends of the founder of the feast in their belief alike of his exquisite judgment and high respectability.
“The silversmith, that he might not appear indelicately obtrusive, let a few days elapse after this grand gala had taken place, before he applied for restoration of his property, the borrower congratulated him on his good fortune, told him, that several friends had very much admired the plate, and even expressed an intention of ordering similar services; and that with regard to the borrowed plate, he had taken so strong a fancy to it, as to feel disposed to become a purchaser, if the price was reasonable, and an adequate consideration was made for prompt payment.
“The silversmith, who chuckled inwardly at the prospect of extending his business, and connecting himself with so many 'honourable men,' gratefully expressed his acknowledgments, and assuring him of liberal dealing, the several items of the borrowed plate were examined and dilated upon, the price of each article, after much higgling, was ultimately fixed, the sum total ascertained, and an early clay appointed for a final settlement of the accompt. It never was the intention of the borrower to return the plate, but he now had achieved a great object, by entirely changing the whole complexion of the business; he had now converted fraud into debt, and happen what might, the silversmith could only sue him on a civil process, which against a limb of the law, and as such, privileged from arrest, must be tedious and uncertain, whereas, had he made away with the plate, without accomplishing the object of this last manouvre, (such is the indiscriminating severity of English law,) that he might have been amenable to the punishment of felony!
“Now comes the reckoning when the banquet's o'er! the parties met for final settlement, when behold! the accepted purchaser offers the silversmith a bill at a month; he refuses it indignantly, and consults his solicitor as to the possibility of compelling the restoration of the plate; but the lawyer told him, that on his own shewing this could not be done. The silversmith had now no other resource than that of taking the ~188~~ proposed bill, and waiting the expiration of the month, for payment. In the meanwhile, the debtor exhibiting the talent of an able conveyancer, transmuted the silver into gold, and now laughs at the credulity of London tradesmen, and sets the silversmith at defiance!”{1}
1 This incident, as related by Dash all, actually and very recently occurred.
An interesting and useful volume might be compiled on the subject of frauds practised on London tradesmen. Many of these tricks have been highly characteristic of ingenuity. The following is a ludicrous instance of female stratagem. We give the article literally, as it occurred.
A few days ago, a female, apparently a person of rank, visited in her carriage, towards the evening, a Silk Mercer's Shop, westward of Temple Bar, where she made choice, for purchase, of silks and other rich articles of feminine dress and decoration, to the value of above fifty pounds. Her manner was that of a perfectly well-bred gentlewoman, and her person displayed no small portion of attractive and elegant accomplishment. Having completed her selection, she expressed much regret that she could not pay the amount of the bill on the instant: “But,” she continued, “it is a delightful evening; my house is in the suburbs of town; a short and easy ride will prove a pleasant recreation, and if you will accompany me home in my carriage, you shall, on our arrival, be immediately paid.” The mercer was more gallant of spirit than to reject the courtesy of a lady so fair and fascinating, and accepting with pleasure the proferred honour, the vehicle soon reached its destination. The lady first alighted, taking with her, into an elegant mansion, the articles of purchase; the mercer presently followed, was shewn into a handsome drawing-room, and received with much politeness, by apparently by a gentleman of the faculty.--A silence of a few minutes ensued, when the mercer inquired for the lady, observing, at the same time, that it was necessary he should return to town immediately. The courteous physician recommended silence, and the mercer became irritated and clamorous for his money and freedom of exit. Two attendants making their appearance, they were directed to conduct the patient to his apartment. The mercer suspecting that he was the dupe of artifice, grasped a poker, with the intention of effect-ing, at all hazard, his liberation from “durance vile,” but his efforts had no other result than that of confirming his trammels, and he was presently bound over to keep the peace, under the guarantee of a straight-waistcoat! The unfortunate mercer now told a “plain unvarnished tale,” which gained the attention of the humane physician, who was no other than the proprietor of the mansion, in which he managed its concerns as an Asylum for Lunatics. The lady who accompanied the mercer to the house, had been with the physician the preceding day, and made arrangements with him for the reception of an insane patient.--It was now discovered that she had come under a fictitious name; had retreated in the hired vehicle with the mercer's property; and had adopted this curious stratagem, the more effectually to silence suspicion and prevent detection.
~189~~ This detail threw the Squire into a train of rumination, on the tricks and chicanery of metropolitan adventurers; while Dashall amused himself with the breakfast-table concomitant, the newspaper. A few minutes only elapsed, when he laid it aside, approached the window, and seeing a funeral pass, in procession, along the street, he turned towards his Cousin, and interrupted his reverie with the following extemporaneous address:--
“Dost thou observe,” he said, “yon sable tribe Of death anticipates?--These are they Who, when men die, rejoice! all others else Of human kind, shed o'er departed friends The tear of reminiscence; these prowlers Hunt after Death, and fatten on his prey! Mark now their measur'd steps, solemn and slow, And visage of each doleful form, that wears The semblance of distress; they mourn for hire, And tend the funeral rites with hearts of stone! Their souls of apathy would never feel A moment's pang were Death at one fell sweep, Even all their relatives to hurl from earth!-- Knaves there exist among them who defraud The grave for sordid lucre; who will take The contract price for hurrying to the tomb The culprit corse the victim of the law, But lay it where? Think'st thou in sacred ground! No! in the human butcher's charnel-house! Who pleas'd, reserves the felon for the knife, And bribes the greater villain with a fee!”
Cousin Bob was very much surprised by this sudden effusion, and inquiring the source of inspiration, Dashall put into his hands the newspaper, pointing to the following extraordinary communication, extracted verbatim.{1}
1 The King v. Cundick.--This was an indictment against the defendant, undertaker to the Horsemonger-lane gaol, for a mis-demeanour, in corruptly selling for dissection the body of a capital convict, after he had been executed, contrary to his duty, in viola-tion of public decency, and the scandal of religion. There were various counts in the indictment, charging the offence in different ways. The defendant pleaded Not Guilty.
The case excited considerable interest, as well for its unprecedented novelty as the singularity of its circumstances. It was a public prosecution at the instance of the Magistracy of the County.
Mr. Nolan and Mr. Bolland conducted the case for the Crown; and Mr. Adolphus, Mr. Turton, and Mr. Ryland, were for the defence.
It appeared in evidence that a capital convict, named Edward Lee, who had been tried and found guilty at the last Croydon Assizes, of a highway robbery, was publicly executed at Horse-monger-lane gaol, on Monday, the 10th of September. After he was cut down he was delivered over to the defendant, the appointed carpenter and undertaker of the gaol, for interment at the County's expense, for which he was allowed three guineas. He received particular directions that the afflicted mother and other friends of the deceased were to be permitted to see the body before inter-ment, and follow it to the grave, if they thought proper. The friends of the deceased called on the defendant, who lives in Redcross-street, to know when the funeral would take place. He appointed the following day, Tuesday, the 11th of September. The unhappy mother of the deceased, being confined to her bed, was unable to attend the funeral, but sent a friend to the house of the defendant to see the body, and cut a lock of its hair. Application being made to the defendant for this purpose, he said he had already buried the body, because he could not keep such people any longer in his house. The friend demanded a certificate of the funeral, which he promised to procure on a subsequent day, upon paying a fee. On the Thursday following the uncle of the deceased called for a certificate of the burial, but could not get it, the de-fendant then saying that the body had been buried the day before. The friends then became clamorous, and complaint being made to Mr. Walter, the gaoler, he sent repeatedly for the defendant to come to the gaol and explain his conduct, which he declined. At length one of the turnkeys was sent after him on the Friday, with positive directions to bring him forthwith. As soon as the de-fendant found that he was compelled to go to Mr. Walter, he made an excuse, that he had some immediate business to attend to, but would meet the messenger in an hour at a neighbouring public-house. To this the turnkey consented, but watched the defendant to his house, where he saw two or three suspicious looking men lurking about. After waiting for some time, the defendant came to him, and expressed his surprise that he was not gone to the public-house. The defendant appeared agitated, and went off as hard as he could towards the Southwark Iron Bridge. A person named Crisp, who was with the turnkey, went one way after the defendant, and the turnkey another. The latter went to Crawford's burial ground, where he saw the same suspicious looking man whom he had observed about the defendant's house, in the act of interring a coffin. He immediately interposed, and said the coffin should not be buried until he examined its contents. At this moment the defendant came into the burying-ground, and seemed angry at the interruption, and begged he might be allowed to inter the body, which he acknowledged was Edward Lee; and excused himself for not burying it before, by saying, that the pressure of other business prevented him. The turnkey remonstrated with him for disobedience of the orders he had received to permit the friends of the deceased to see the body and attend the funeral. The defendant seemed greatly perplexed: at length he took hold of Crisp and the turnkey by the sleeve, and, with considerable agitation, offered them 10L. each to permit him to bury the coffin, and say no more about the matter. This was peremptorily refused. The turnkey insisted upon opening the coffin, and whilst the defendant went to explain his conduct to Mr. Walter, he did open it, and found that it contained nothing but earth. It appeared that the defendant had been applying to the sexton in the course of the week for a certificate of the burial, but was unable to succeed, the body not having been buried. Search was then made for the body, and at length it was traced to Mr. Brooks's dissecting rooms in Blenheim-street, Marlborough- street, where it had undergone a partial dissection. The upper part of the scull had been removed, but replaced. Several persons identified the body as that of Edward Lee. It was proved that about ten o'clock in the evening of Tuesday, the 11th September, a hackney-coach had stopped at the defendant's house, and the defendant was seen assisting two men in lifting a large hamper into the carriage, which then drove off. This was the substance of the case for the prosecution.
Mr. Adolphus, in an able and ingenious address to the Jury, contended that the indictment must fail, inasmuch as the evidence did not satisfy the allegation in the indictment, that the defendant had sold the body for lucre and gain. Now there was no proof whatever that it had been sold, which might have easily been made out, if the fact was so, by summoning Mr. Brooks, the anatomist. The real fact was, that the body had been stolen by other persons from the defendant's house, and the defendant had been driven to the miserable shifts proved in evidence, in order to conceal the misfortune, and prevent the loss of his lucrative situation in the gaol.
No witnesses to facts were called for the defendant; but several persons gave him a good character for honesty and industry.
The Jury, under the learned Judge's directions, found the defendant Guilty.
~192~~ The Squire having perused this appalling account of human depravity, expressed himself in energetic terms of indignation against the miscreant, who to the acute miseries of maternal affliction at the premature loss of a son, and by such a death! could add the bitter anguish of consigning his cold remains, unseen by any earthly spirit of sympathy, to the knife of the dissector, in breach of every law moral and divine! In the warmth of his kindly feelings, the Squire would have uttered a curse, had he not been prevented by the entrance of his old friend, Sir Felix O'Grady. The two friends received their quondam acquaintance with much cordiality. “Cuish la mevchree! exclaimed the Baronet, shaking heartily the hands of Tom and Bob; “and how have you done these many long days past?”--This inquiry having been satisfactorily answered, Sir Felix explained the object of his visit:--“Aunts of all sorts, or any sort, or no sort at all at all,” said he, “are cursed bad things, sure enough; as somebody in the play says.”
This abrupt commencement excited the risible feelings of Dashall and his Cousin, which were further stimulated by Sir Felix seriously appealing to their commiseration, under the pressure of misfortune,--“for this same respectable maiden lady, Mrs. Judith Macgilligan, my venerable aunt as aforesaid, has recently imported her antiquated piece of virginity from her native mountains near Belfast, and having had my address pat enough, the worse luck, the sowl, with an affected anxiety for my welfare, must take up her residence, while in town, in the same house with her dutiful nephew, that she may have the opportunity of watching over him in his erratic pursuits, as she says, with maternal solicitude; that is, in other words, to spy into all my actions, and bore me everlastingly with her intolerable company. It was but the blessed morning of yesterday that she took a fancy to exhibit her beautiful person at the lounge in Bond-street;--by-the-bye, this same paragon of perfection has passed her grand climacteric, being on the wrong side of sixty;--is as thin as a lath and as tall as a May-pole;--speaks an indescribable language of the mongrel kind, between Irish and Scotch, of which she is profuse to admiration; and forgetting the antiquity of her person, prides herself on the antiquity of her ancestry so much, that she is said to bear a strong resemblance to her grandmother, judging from the full-length portrait (painted seventy years ago,) of that worthy progenitor of our family, who was a descendent, lineally, from O'Brien king of Ulster, that she copies her dress on all public occasions, to the great amusement and edification of the spectators; and in these venerable habiliments she promenaded Bond-street, hanging on my arm;--by the Powers, till I felt ashamed of my precious charge, for all the world was abroad, and my reverend aunt was the universal magnet of attraction.”
“Well, and you find yourself comfortable,” said Dashall,--“we have all of us foibles, and why expect your aunt to be exempted from them?--Have you any thing in expectance,--is she rich?”
~193~~ “Twenty thousand pounds, twice told,” replied Sir Felix, “sterling money of Great Britain, in which I have a reversionary interest.”
“Why then,” said Tallyho, “you cannot do better than contribute all in your power to her ease and pleasure; and in exercising this commendable duty, you will gain present satisfaction, and may justly anticipate future benefit.”
“And,” added Dashall, “if my Cousin or myself can by any means further your object, in contributing towards the full attainment of your aunt's amusement while she remains in town, you may command our services.”
“By the powers of fortune,” exclaimed the Baronet, “you have just given me the opportunity I was wishing for; that is, I had a favour to ask, but which I could not find courage enough to do, notwithstanding my native assurance, until now. You must know, then, that on Easter Monday, the illustrious Judith Macgilligan, descendant lineally from O'Brien king of Ulster, means to honour the Civic entertainment with her sublime presence, and grace the Ball at the Mansion-house in a dress resembling that of her grandmother the princess, worn seventy years ago. Now, my dear friends, having pledged yourselves to contribute all in your power towards the pleasure of my venerable aunt, which of you will be her partner for the evening?”
The pause of a moment was succeeded by a hearty laugh; Tallyho had no objections to the hand, as a partner at the ball, of Miss Judith Macgilligan, even should she choose to array herself after the manner of the princess her grandmother. But Dashall observing that as no masque balls were given at the Mansion-house, it would be necessary that Miss Macgilligan should forego her intention of appearing otherwise than in modern costume. Sir Felix undertook to arrange this point with his relative, and in the name and on behalf of Squire Tallyho, of Belville-hall, to engage the distinguished honour of her hand at the ensuing Mansion-house Ball. This important affair having been satisfactorily adjusted, it was proposed by Dashall that, as his Cousin and the Baronet had neither of them ever been present at the Epping Hunt on Easter Monday, they should form themselves into a triumvirate for the purpose of enjoying that pleasure on the morrow. The Squire having in town ~194~~ two hunters from his own stud, embraced the proposition with the avidity of a true sportsman, and Sir Felix declining the offer of one of these fleet-footed coursers, it was agreed they should be under the guidance of Tom and Bob, and that Sir Felix should accompany them, mounted on his own sober gelding, early in the morning, to the field of Nimrod, from which they purposed to return to town in sufficient time to witness other holiday sports, before dressing for the entertainment at the Mansion-house.
These preliminaries settled, and Sir Felix agreeing to take a pot-luck dinner with his two friends, the trio resolved on a morning lounge of observation, and sallying forth, took their way along Piccadilly accordingly.
Although it was Sunday morning, this street presented, with the exception of the shops being closed, nearly the same appearance of bustle as on any other day; the number of pedestrians was not apparently less, and of equestrians and carriage-occupants, an increase; the two latter description of the ton, actually or would-be, passing onwards to the general Sunday rendezvous, Hyde-Park, where Real Life in London is amusingly diversified; and where may be seen frequently, amongst the promiscuous promenaders of the Mall, a prince of the blood-royal undistinguishable by external ornament from any of the most humble in the moving panorama; while an endless succession of carriages, in which are seated, what England beyond any other country may proudly boast of, some of the most beautiful women in the world, present the observer with an enlivening theme of admiration; and, together with the mounted exhibiters, from the man of fashion on the “pampered, prancing steed,” to the youth of hebdomadary emancipation on “the hacked Bucephalus of Rotten Row,” form an assemblage at once ludicrous and interesting.
Having circumambulated the “Ring,” our triumvirate returned by the gate in Piccadilly, and crossing from thence to Constitution-hill, Dashall pointed out to his companions the seat, as now fixed upon (on the summit of the Green Park) of a Military Pillar, intended to be raised in commemoration of the many victories achieved by British valour in the last war. “This plan, if properly carried into effect by the erection (said Dashall) of a column equal in splendor of execution ~195~~ with the glory it is meant to record, will be the greatest ornament of the metropolis.”
“If again,” added the Squire, “it does not prove like some other recent projections, a Castle in the air!”{1}
1 Tallyho probably alludes to the long meditated Monument in memory of the late Princess Charlotte, towards the memory of which a very large sum of money was raised by public subscription.
Without any other occurrence worthy of remark, the perambulators reached home, and enjoyed the comfortable quietude of an excellent domestic dinner, without interruption. Every arrangement having been made for the amusements of next day, the party broke up, Sir Felix returning to his lodgings, to gladden the heart of Miss Judith Macgilligan with the anticipation of conquest; and Dashall and Tallyho retiring to early repose, that they might encounter the business of the morning with recruited renovation.--Next day
The feathered songster chanticleer Had wound his bugle horn, And told the early villager The coming of the morn;--
When the Baronet made his appearance “on a milk-white steed,” before the mansion of Dashall. In a few moments the friendly trio were assembled in the breakfast-parlour, and partook of a hasty repast while the coursers from the Belville-stud, destined to perform a prominent part in the forthcoming adventures of the day, were getting in readiness. The preparations were soon completed,--the hunters, two noble animals, were brought to the door,
Each “with neck like a rainbow, erecting his crest, Paniper'd, prancing and pleas'd, his head touching his breast.” “Saddle White Surrey for the field to-morrow,”
was the order of Richard,” said the Baronet; “but had he been in possession of such a horse as either of these, 'White Surrey' might have gone to the devil.”
“I'll warrant them both, sound, wind and limb, and gentle to boot,” said the Squire,--“Come then, if you wish to be well-mounted, and would really look like a “baron bold,” seat yourself fearlessly on either, and bear yourself through the streets of London with the dignity ~196~~ befitting a true, magnanimous and puissant knight of Munster!”--This address had the desired effect,--it implied a doubt of the Baronet's courage, and he seated himself on the “gallant steed” immediately.--Tom and Bob at same time betook themselves, the former to the other “high mettled racer,” and the latter to the unassuming rejected Rosinante of Sir Felix. A trifling delay, however, occurred; the stirrups of the Baronet's charger were too short, and he alighted while the groom repaired the defect.
Now see him mounted once again Upon his nimble steed; Full slowly pacing o'er the stones, With caution and good heed.
Whether, like the Calenderer's horse under the its guidance of the celebrated John Gilpin, the disdainful steed now in the management of Sir Felix, “wondered what thing he'd got upon his back,” we are not competent to decide; but he certainly in his progress “o'er the stones” manifested frequent impatience of restraint. These symptoms of contumaciousness were nevertheless borne by the Baronet without complaint,--
Till finding soon a smoother road Beneath its well-shod feet, The snorting beast began to trot, Which galled him in his seat.
And, as if intuitively knowing the incapacity of his rider to restrain him, and despising curb and rein, the indignant animal set off at full speed, to the great dismay of Dashall and the Squire, who putting their horses to the pith of their mettle, hurried after their friend with the utmost solicitude. Luckily, however, the career of the spirited animal was impeded, and finally stopped, by the frequent interposition of the passengers on the road, and the Baronet was safely set down, ready to exclaim with Hawser Trunnion, “If ever I get astride the back of such another harum scarum son of a bitch again, my name is not Felix O'Grady.”
The pursuers speedily rejoined the pursued, and felt happy in the knowledge of his welfare. The abashment of the baronet, occasioned by this untoward adventure, soon gave way to his characteristic good-humour; and ~197~~ having resigned all further government of the Squire's unruly quadruped, and resumed possession of his own, the triumvirate proceeded towards the place of destination.
In the meanwhile, the city horsemen arose with Phoebus, to mount their rosinantes, to be present at the enlargement of the stag, and were roused from their slumbers according to order by the watchmen. The motley group, that was early in the field, furnished a capital subject for the caricaturist. Carts, horses, lame mares, and refractory donkies, with their grotesque riders, covered the field, together with dandies in chaises, and the lassies from St. Giles's, Chick-lane, Wapping, and St. Catherine's, in market carts, with their sweet-hearts, considerably swelled the number of the hunters. The stag was decorated with bunches of ribbons, and seemed when enlarged much more frightened at the appearance of the Londoners, than at the hounds, his natural enemies. When the chase commenced, never was witnessed such a scene of confusion and disorder. Upset carts, and unhorsed huntsmen, were seen in all directions. The stag went off in good style, and out of hundreds of horsemen, not above a dozen were able to keep their seats, but a number of fellows were on the lurk to take care of the stray horses.
After a cursory glance at the variegated and boisterous assemblage, the stag bounded forward with the velocity of lightning, amidst the astounding shouts of the multitude, and was instantly followed by his biped and quadruped foes of indescribable diversity, from the amateur of the turf on his spirited and well caparisoned steed, to the spavined gelding, bearing its cockney rider, and numerous other annual equestrians, preceded by every description of the canine race, from the high bred beagle to the “cur of low degree.” All was tumultuous dissonance, and confusion worse confounded. Tallyho enjoyed the scene to the very acme of delight, and giving the reins to his experienced courser, high in blood, and eager for accustomed exercise, the noble animal accompanied by its companion under the guidance of Dashall, started off with unrivalled celerity, and in a few moments set all competition at defiance. Sir Felix, in an attempt to follow his friends, leaped a fence, but gaining the opposite side, horse and rider came to the ground: fortunately neither of them sustained any injury.--Sir Felix, ~198~~ however, on regaining his footing, found that his horse, which had gone forward, was in possession of a stranger, who losing his own, had availed himself of this opportunity of remounting, and now pursued his way bare-headed; for the wind had uncourteously uncovered his pericranium, and he abandoned his castor to its fate rather than by stopping to pick it up, risque the restitution of his prize, and the wrath of the baronet, who stood spell-bound against the fence, vociferously demanding his gelding, and extending his arm in reiterated denunciation of vengeance. The unceremonious intruder turning round on the saddle, without slackening his career.--” Bide you where you are, my fine fellow,” he provokingly exclaimed, “until the chase is over, and your gelding shall then be forthcoming.” If the sense of misfortune is alleviated by seeing it participated by others, the baronet had ample fund of consolation, for numbers around him were involved in similar calamity. He profited too, by an admirable lesson of patience under disaster. On the right of his runaway gelding, and its rider, he perceived a dismounted horseman, quietly submitting to adversity, by seating himself on a bank, while his unburthened steed pursued the chase with unabating celerity, leaving its owner to wait, at leisure, its return. Two cockney equestrians now approached, at full speed, the fence where Sir Felix still stood, in the attitude of remonstrance and irritation; and attempting the leap, one, like the baronet, gained the opposite side, but with a less successful result; for the rider was pitched over with some violence, with his heels aloft in the air, as if about to perambulate the field on his hands, while his horse came to the ground on its face and knees, suspended by its hind legs from the upper bar of the fence, and vainly essaying at extrication. The other cockney sportsman was similarly situated: his horse had not cleared the fence, neither had the rider, although he had reached the neck of his rosinante in his progress to the opposite side; in this position he assumed a permanent aspect, for his horse rested with his fore-legs over the fence, and seemed incapable of either retrograding or proceeding. These lessons taught the baronet resignation in mishap; the result of which was the return, in about an hour, of his friends Tom and Bob, to his great comfort, which was further increased by their bringing with them his gelding, having recognized the animal ~199~~ in the possession of a stranger, who, on their claiming it as belonging to Sir Felix O'Grady, very readily gave it up, saying, that the baronet had not forgot in the midst of his threats, frequently to announce his name, and hoping that he would excuse him for having resorted to the privilege which every person claims on this day, of taking care of the stray horses. The party now fully satisfied with the humours and disasters of the Easter Hunt, turned their steeds homewards, and journeying unimpeded, notwithstanding the throng of the road, they quickly gained town, without the occurrence of any other memorable incident.
Having reached the mansion of Dashall, Sir Felix acquainted Tallyho with the success of his mission respecting the hand, as a partner, at the Mansion-house Ball, of the august descendant of the Kings of Ulster, the sage and venerable Miss Judith Macgilligan. “O, the beautiful illustrissimo! the sweet crature” exclaimed the baronet, “with commendable care of her virgin purity, and fair unsullied fame, is tenacious of etiquette, and insists that she shall be asked with all due form and respect, (after I have introduced your Squireship to the honour of her notice) at the Mansion-house. By my conscience, I believe she is in love with your character, and no doubt will prove desperately so with your person. Faith and troth now, she is both too young and too old for matrimony; too young, because she may live to torment you these twenty years to come, which is a penance no sprightly lad should voluntarily undergo for all her fortune; and too old, being in all respects disqualified by age, for the important object of marriage, which was instituted for the procreation of children.”
“My dear sir,” rejoined the Squire, “immaculate may the lady remain in her person and property, I have no views on either.”
“By the powers of charity retract that 'stern decree,'” exclaimed the baronet, “would you break the heart of the love-sick nymph, by chilling indifference to the potency of her charms and the magnitude of her fortune? However, all joking apart, my good friends, will you do my aunt and your humble servant the honour of calling at our lodgings; we shall wait your coming and proceed together to the civic entertainment?” This was agreed to;--the baronet retired, and the two cousins having the best part of the day still before them, set out on a stroll to Tothill-fields Fair, with the view of ascertaining Real Life in Westminster, amongst the middle and lower orders of its extensive population.
~200~~ Crossing St. James's Park, our two observers soon reached the scene of jollity. Here, as in all the fairs held in London, and its vicinity, was a vast assemblage of idlers, including both sexes and all ages. “They talk of the severity of the times,” said Dashall, “and the distress of the lower orders of society; I cannot say, however, that I have witnessed any semblance of distress or privation amongst such in this metropolis to the extent represented,1 in the whole course of my observation. These fairs, for instance, more properly marts of iniquity, are crammed to excess; and in pursuit of low enjoyment there appears no deficiency of pecuniary means. In all these resorts of dissipation, not only the shows are filled with spectators, but the booths and neighbouring public-houses are crowded with male and female revellers.”
The Squire acquiesced in the correctness of his friend's remark, and both coincided in opinion that the regular daily public places of amusement in the metropolis afford ample opportunity for rational recreation, independent of the continuance of fairs, which have no other tendency than facilitating the progress of licentiousness.
Dashall observed, that on the present occasion, in the midst of so much alleged distress,-the booths and shows of Tothill-fields Fair were much more extensive than in former years. “We must, however,” said he, “although the evil continues, do the Magistrates the justice to say that they have acted meritoriously in preventing the erection of those dangerous machines named round-abouts, by which, at former fairs, many serious accidents were occasioned.”
While Ton and Bob were quizzing the costermongers and the Venuses, they in their turn were queered out of their wipes; thus another cogent argument was afforded as to the necessity of suppressing these nuisances, as being the rendezvous of infamy, and the harvest of depredation. The visitors appeared in all their glory, as elegant and boisterous as usual; the consumption of gin and gingerbread was apparently prodigious, and the great luxury amongst the fashionables was fried sausages and the bolting of oysters with sugar for wagers. Having lost their wipes, the two friends resolved at least to save ~201~~ their tattlers; and having seen a sufficiency of Westminster jollification, they left the fair to those visitors who might better appreciate its enjoyment.
Returning home, they were not encountered by farther mischance, and having shortly reached their destination, and dressed for the evening gala, a chariot was ordered, and they were set down at the lodgings of Sir Felix O'Grady.
The baronet introduced his two friends to his aunt, with much affected form, and with an arch leer of expression, which, on an occasion of minor import, would have excited the risibility of Bob, but this was no laughing affair; the presentation therefore was conducted with all due solemnity, and Miss Judith Macgilligan received him with a maidenish diffidence and complacency, yet with the dignity becoming a descendant of O'Brien, King of Ulster.
Having partaken of a slight repast, the party drove off, in the lady's temporary vehicle, and rattling rapidly along the streets, were in a very short time arrived at the Mansion-house. The company was select and elegant; the ladies particularly, might vie in splendour of ornament and fascination of personal charms, with first rate beauties of the west; and what gave the entertainment a superior zest above every other consideration, was the condescending affability of the Civic Queen, who received her numerous and delighted guests with a truly hospitable, yet dignified politeness; nor was there any deficiency on the part of her lord; all that the most excellent arrangements and the most minute attention could accomplish was done, to the entire gratification and comfort of the company.{1}
1 Easter Amusements.--Mansion-house. The customary Easter Civic Dinner and Ball were given at the Mansion-house. A material alteration was effected in the entertainment upon this occasion, by considerably abridging the number of cards, which it was the practice hitherto to issue. The Lady Mayoress received the company before dinner in the ball room; in dis-charging which office her ladyship displayed much ease and elegance of manner. The company adjourned to the Egyptian Hall to dinner, at about half-past six o'clock. They consisted of Lord Viscount Sidmouth, the Earl of Shaftesbury, Mr. Peel, and some other members of the Ministry, the Lords Bishop of London and Landaff, and other church dignitaries; the Lords Chief Justices of England, and the Court of Common Pleas; the Vice Chancellor, several of the diplomatic corps, as well as the leading Members of the Senate and the Army, and other gentlemen of distinction, her Grace the Duchess of Rutland, and several ladies of rank, in all about three hundred and fifty individuals of both sexes. There were five tables laid out in the hall, which from being prettily ornamented with festoons of flowers attached to pillars along the centre of each, had an extremely picturesque appearance upon entering the room. After dinner the usual toasts were drank, and the respective parties present returned thanks. Messrs. Pyne, Broadhurst, and other professional gentle-men, sung several songs and glees in their happiest style. At a little after nine o'clock the Lady Mayoress and the ladies with-drew, and the gentlemen shortly afterwards rejoined them in the ball-room.
At a little before ten o'clock, the ball-room was prepared, and in a short time the most distinguished of the guests repaired thither. The dresses of the ladies were in general particularly elegant. The ball was opened by two of the younger daughters of the Lord Mayor, Misses Ann and Harriett Magnay, who danced the minuet de la cour in so elegant and finished a manner, as elicited general approbation. The quadrilles were led off by the Duke de Cazes and Baron Langsdorff, and were continued with the greatest spirit throughout the night. The centre tables in the Egyptian Hall were removed for the accommodation of the company, but the side tables were retained, and refreshments served out from them in abundance.
We believe that in the general participation of pleasure there existed one solitary exception only, in the person of Miss Judith Macgilligan. It unfortunately happened that an opportunity offered not for the display of her graces in the dance. She then became peevishly taciturn, complained of indisposition, and expressing a desire of returning home, the gentlemen consequently assented, and the party left the Mansion-house at an earlier hour than they had either anticipated or desired.
VOLUME II. Part 2
Chapter XV
“All London is full of vagaries, Of bustle of splendour and show, At every turn the scene varies, Whether near, or still further we go. Each lane has a character in it, Each street has its pauper and beau: And such changes are making each minute, Scarce one from the other we know. The in and out turnings of life, Few persons can well understand; But in London the grand source of strife, Is of fortune to bear the command. Yet some who are high up to day, Acknowledged good sober and witty, May to-morrow be down in decay, In this great and magnanimous city.”
~~203~~~ “Apropos,” said the Hon. Tom Dashall, laying down the Times newspaper after breakfast, “a fine opportunity is offered to us to day, for a peep at the Citizens of London in their Legislative Assembly, a Court of Common Council is announced for twelve o'clock, and I think I can promise you much of entertaining information, by paying a visit at Guildhall and its vicinity. We have several times passed it with merely taking a view of its exterior, but the interior is equally deserving of attention, particularly at a period when it is graced by the personages and appendages which constitute its state and dignity. London is generally spoken of as the first commercial city in the known world, and its legislators, as a corporate body, becomes a sort of rallying post for all others in the kingdom. We have plenty of time before us, and may lounge a little as we march along to amuse or refresh ourselves at leisure.” “With all my heart,” said Tallyho, “for I have heard much about the Lord Mayor, the Sword Bearer, and the Common Hunt, all in a bustle,--though I have never yet had an opportunity of seeing any of them.”
~~204~~ “They are interesting subjects, I can assure you, so come along, we will take a view of these Gogs and Magogs of civic notoriety,” and thus saying, they were quickly on the road for the city. The morning being fine, they took their way down St. James's Street, at the bottom of which their ears were attracted by the sounds of martial music approaching.
“We have nicked the time nicely indeed,” said Dashall, “and may now enjoy a musical treat, before we proceed to the oratorical one. The Guards in and about the Palace, are relieved every morning about this time, for which purpose they are usually mustered at the Horse-Guards, in the Park, where they are paraded in regular order, and then marched here. It forms a very pleasing sight for the cockney loungers, for those out of employ, and those who have little inclination to be employed; and you see the crowds that are hastening before them, in order to obtain admission to Palace Yard, before their arrival--let us join the throng; there is another detachment stationed there ready to receive them, and while they are relieving the men actually on duty, the two bands alternately amuse the officers and the bye-standers with some of the most admired Overtures and Military Airs.”
They now passed the gate, and quickly found themselves in a motley group of all descriptions, crowding to the seat of action, and pouring in from various avenues. Men, women, and children, half-drill'd drummers, bandy-legged fifers, and suckling triangle beaters, with bags of books and instruments in their hands to assist the band. The colours were mounted as usual on a post in the centre, the men drawn up in ranks, and standing at ease, while the officers were pacing backwards and forwards in the front, arm-in-arm with each other, relating the rencontres of the preceding day, or those in anticipation of the ensuing. This order of things was however quickly altered, as the relieving party entered, and at the word “attention,” every officer was at his post, and the men under arms. Our friends now moved under the piazzas so as to be in the rear of the party who had the first possession, and after hearing with great admiration the delightful airs played by the two bands, which had been the principal object of attraction with them--they proceeded through the Park and reached Charing Cross, by the way of Spring Gardens.
~~205~~~ “Zounds,” said Tallyho, “this is a very unworthy entrance to a Royal Park.”
“Admitted, it is so,” was the reply, “and a degradation to the splendid palace, I mean internally, which is so close to it, and which is the present residence of Majesty.” They now proceeded without any thing further of consequence worthy of remark, till they reached Villiers-street.
“Come,” said Tom, “I perceive we shall have time to take a look at the world below as well as the world above; “when crossing into the Adelphi, and suddenly giving another turn, he entered what to Bob appeared a cavern, and in one moment was obscured from his sight.--“Hallo,” said Tallyho, “where the devil are you leading me to?”--“Never mind,” was the reply; “keep on the right side, and you are safe enough; but if you get into the centre, beware of the Slough of Despond--don't be afraid.”
Upon this assurance Bob groped his way along for a few paces, and at a distance could discover the glimmering of a lamp, which seemed but to make darkness more visible. Keeping his eye upon the light, and more engrossed with the idea of his own safety in such a place than any thing else, for he could neither conjecture where he was nor whence he was going, he presently came in violent contact with a person whom he could not see, and in a moment found himself prostrate on the ground.
“Hallo,” cried a gruff voice, which sounded through the hollow arches of the place with sepulchral tone--“who the devil are you--why don't you mind where you go--you must not come here with your eyes in your pocket;” and at the same time he heard a spade dug into the earth, which almost inspired him with the idea that he should be buried alive.
“Good God protect,” (exclaimed Bob,) “where is Dashall--where am I?”
“Where are you--why you're in the mud to be sure--and for aught I know, Dashall and all the rest may be in the clouds; what business have you dashing here--we have enough of the Dandies above, without having them below--what have you lost your way, or have you been nibbling in the light, and want to hide yourself--eh?”
~~206~~~ “Neither, neither, I can assure you; but I have been led here, and my friend is on before.”
“Oh, well, if that's the case, get up, and I'll hail him, --ey-ya-ap”--cried he, in a voice, which seemed like thunder to our fallen hero, and which was as quickly answered by the well known voice of his Cousin, who in a few minutes was at his elbow.
“What now,” vociferated Tom, “I thought I gave you instructions how to follow, and expected you was just behind me.”
“Why for the matter of that,” cried the unknown, “he was not before you, that's sartin; and he knocked himself down in the mud before ever I spoke to him, that's all I know about it--but he don't seem to understand the navigation of our parts.”
“I don't wonder at that,” replied Tom; “for he was never here before in his life--but there is no harm done, is there?”
“None,” replied Bob; “all's right again now--so proceed.”
“Nay,” replied the unknown, “all's not right yet; for if as how this is your first appearance in the shades below, it is but fair you should come down.”
“Down,” said Bob, “why I have been down--you knock'd me down.”
“Well, never mind, my master, I have set you on your pins again; and besides that, I likes you very well, for you're down as a hammer, and up again like a watch-box--but to my thinking a drap o'somut good would revive you a little bit; and I should like to drink with you--for you ought to pay your footing.”
“And so he shall,” continued Tom--“So come along, my lad.”
By this time Bob had an opportunity of discovering that the person he had thus unfortunately encountered, was no other than a stout raw-boned coalheaver, and that the noise he had heard was occasioned by his sticking his pointed coal-shovel in the earth, with intention to help him up after his fall. Pursuing their way, and presently turning to the right, Bob was suddenly delighted by being brought from utter darkness into marvellous light, presenting a view of the river, with boats and barges passing and repassing with their usual activity.
“What place is this?” inquired Tallyho.
~207~~~ “Before you,” replied his Cousin, “is the River Thames; and in the front you will find wharfs and warehouses for the landing and housing of various merchandize, such as coals, fruit, timber, &c.: we are now under the Adelphi Terrace, where many elegant and fashionable houses are occupied by persons of some rank in society; these streets, lanes, and subterraneous passages, have been constructed for the convenience of conveying the various articles landed here into the main streets of the metropolis, and form as it were a little world under ground.”
“And no bad world neither,” replied the coalheaver, who upon inspection proved to be no other than Bob Martlet, whom they had met with as one of the heavy wet party at Charley's Crib--“For there is many a family lives down here, and gets a good bit of bread too; what does it signify where a man gets his bread, if he has but an honest appetite to eat it with: aye, and though I say it, that house in the corner there, just down by the water's edge, can supply good stuff at all times to wash it down with, and that you know's the time of day, my master: this warm weather makes one dryish like, don't it?”
Tom thought the hint dry enough, though Bob was declaring he was almost wet through; however, they took their road to the Fox under the Hill, as it is termed. On entering which a good fire presented itself, and Tallyho placed himself in front of it, in order to dry his clothes, while Bob Martlet was busy in inquiring of the landlord for a brush to give the gemman a wipe down, as, he observed, he had a sort of a trip up in these wild parts--though to be sure that there was no great wonder, for a gentleman who was near sighted, and didn't wear spectacles; “however,” continued he, “there an't no harm done; and so the gemman and I are going to drink together--arn't we, Sir?”
Tallyho, who by this time had got well roasted by the fire-side, nodded his assent, and Dashall inquired what he would like.
~~208~~~ “Why, my master, as for that, it's not much matter to me; a drap of sky blue in a boulter of barley,{1} with a dollop of sweet,{2} and a little saw dust,{3} is no bad thing according to my thinking; but Lord bless you! if so be as how a gemman like you offers to treat Bill Martlet,
1 A boulter of barley--a drink--or a pot of porter.
2 A dollop of sweet--sugar.
3 Saw-dust--a cant term for ginger or nutmeg grated.
why Bill Martlet never looks a gift horse in the mouth, you know, as the old saying is; but our landlord knows how to make such rum stuff, as I should like you to taste it--we call it hot, don't us, landlord?--Come, lend us hold of the brush?” “Ave, and brush up, Mr. Landlord,” said the Hon. Tom Dashall; “let us have a taste of this nectar he's talking of, for we have not much time to stop.”
“Lord bless your eye sight,” replied Martlet, “there an't no occasion whatsomdever for your honours to stay--if you'll only give the order, and push about the possibles, the business is all done. Come, shovel up the sensible,” continued he to the landlord, “mind you give us the real double XX. I don't think your coat is any the worse, it would sarve me for a Sunday swell toggery for a twelve-month to come yet; for our dirt down here is as I may say clean dirt, and d------me if I don't think it looks all the better for it.”
“Thank you, my friend,” said Bob; “that will do very well,” and the landlord having by this time completed his cookery, produced the good stuff, as Martlet termed it.
“Come, gentlemen, this is the real right sort, nothing but the bang-up article, arn't it, my master? But as I always likes the landlord to taste it first, by way of setting a good example, just be after telling us what you think of it.”
“With all my heart,” said the landlord; who declared it was as prime a pot of hot as he had made for the last fortnight. .
With this recommendation our friends tried it; and after tipping, took their departure, under the positive assurance of Martlet, that he should be very glad to see them again at any time.
They now pursued their way through other subterraneous passages, where they met waggons, carts, and horses, apparently as actively and usefully employed as those above ground.
“Come,” said Tom, “we have suffered time to steal a inarch upon us,” as they reached the Strand; “we will therefore take the first” rattler we can meet with, and make the best of our way for the City.”--This was soon accomplished, and jumping into the coach, the old Jarvey was desired to drive them as expeditiously as possible to the corner of King-street, Cheapside.~~209~~~
Chapter XVI
“How wretched those who tasteless live, And say this world no joys can give: Why tempts yon turtle sprawling, Why smoaks the glorious haunch, Are these not joys still calling To bless our mortal paunch? O 'tis merry in the Hall When beards wag all, What a noise and what a din; How they glitter round the chin; Give me fowl and give me fish, Now for some of that nice dish; Cut me this, Sir, cut me that, Send me crust, and send me fat. Some for tit bits pulling hauling,
Legs, wings, breast, head,--some for liquor, scolding, bawling, Hock, port, white, red, here 'tis cramming, cutting, slashing, There the grease and gravy splashing, Look, Sir, look, Sir, what you've done, Zounds, you've cut off the Alderman's thumb.”
The Hon. Tom Dashall, who was fully aware that City appointments for twelve o'clock mean one, was nevertheless anxious to arrive at their place of destination some time before the commencement of the business of the day; and fortunately meeting with no obstruction on the road, they were set down at the corner of King-street, about half-past twelve.
“Come,” said he, “we shall now have time to look about us at leisure, and observe the beauties of this place of civic festivity. The Hall you see in front of you, is the place devoted to the entertainment usually given by the Lord Mayor on his entrance upon the duties and dignities of his office. It is a fine gothic building, in which the various courts of the city are held. The citizens also meet there for the purpose of choosing their representatives in Parliament, the Lord Mayor, Sheriffs, &c. It was originally built in the year 1411, previous to which period the public, or as they term it the Common Hall, was held at a small room in Aldermanbury.
~~210~~~ The expense Of the building was defrayed by voluntary subscription, and its erection occupied twenty years. It was seriously damaged by the fire of 1666, since which the present edifice, with the exception of the new gothic front, has been erected. That, however, was not finished till the year 1789, and many internal improvements and decorations have been introduced since. There is not much of attraction in its outward appearance. That new building on the right has recently been erected for the accommodation of Meetings of Bankrupts; and on the left is the Justice-Room, where the Aldermen attend daily in rotation as magistrates to decide petty causes; but we must not exhaust our time now upon them.”
On entering the Hall, Tallyho appeared to be highly pleased with its extent, and was presently attracted by the monuments which it contains. “It is a noble room,” said he.--“Yes,” replied Tom, “this Hall is 153 feet in length, 48 in breadth, and the height to the roof is 55.” Tallyho was, however, more engaged in examining the monument erected to the memory of Lord Nelson, and an occasional glance at the two enormous figures who stand at opposites, on the left of the entrance.--Having read the tablet, and admired the workmanship of the former, he hastily turned to the latter. “And who in the name of wonder are these?” he inquired.
“These,” replied his communicative Cousin, “are called Gog and Magog. They are two ancient giants carved in wood, one holding a long staff suspending a ball stuck with pikes, and the other a halbert, supposed to be of great antiquity, and to represent an ancient Briton and a Saxon. They formerly used to stand on each side of that staircase which leads to the Chamberlain's Office, the Courts of King's Bench and Common Pleas, the Court of Aldermen, and the Common Council Chamber. At the other end are two fine monuments, to the memory of Lord Chatham, the father of Mr. Pitt, and his Son. The windows are fine specimens of the revived art of painting on glass. There is also a monument of Mr. Beckford.”
While they were taking a view of these several objects of curiosity, their attention was suddenly attracted by a confused noise and bustle at the door, which announced the arrival of the Lord Mayor and his attendants, who passed them in state, and were followed by our friends to the Council Chamber; on entering which, they were ~~211~~~ directed by the City Marshall, who guarded the door, to keep below the bar. Tallyho gazed with admiration and delight on the numerous pictures with which the Chamber is decorated, as well as the ceiling, which forms, a dome, with a skylight in the centre. The Lord Mayor having first entered the Court of Aldermen, the business of the day had not yet commenced. Tom directed his Cousin's eye in the first instance to the very large and celebrated painting by Copley, which fronts the Lord Mayor's chair, and represents the destruction of the floating batteries before Gibraltar, to commemorate the gallant defence of that place by General Elliott, afterwards Lord Heath field, in 1782. The statue of the late King George the Third; the death of David Rizzio, by Opie; the miseries of Civil War, from Shakespeare; Domestic Happiness, exemplified in portraits of an Alderman and his family; the death of Wat Tyler; the representation of the Procession of the Lord Mayor to Westminster Hall, by water; and the ceremony of swearing in the Lord Mayor at Guildhall, in 1781; containing portraits of all the principal members of the Corporation of London at that time. Meanwhile the benches were filling with the Deputies and Common Councilmen from their several wards. At one o'clock, the Lord Mayor entered the Court, attended by several Aldermen, who took their seats around him, and the business of the day commenced. Among those on the upper seats, Tom gave his Cousin to understand which were the most popular of the Aldermen, and named in succession Messrs. Waithman, Wood, Sir Claudius Stephen Hunter, Birch, Flower, and Curtis; and as their object was not so much to hear the debates as to see the form and know the characters, he proposed an adjournment from their present rather uncomfortable situation, where they were obliged to stand wedged in, by the crowd continually increasing, during which they could take a few more observations, and he could give some little clue to the origin and present situations of the persons to whom he had directed his Cousin's attention. Making the best of their way out of the Court, they found themselves in an anti-room, surrounded by marshalmen, beadles of Wards waiting for their Aldermen, and the Lord Mayor's and Sheriffs' footmen, finding almost as much difficulty to proceed, as they had before encountered.
~~212~~~ Having struggled through this formidable phalanx of judicial and state appendages,
“Now,” said Dashall, “we shall be enabled to breathe again at liberty, and make our observations without fear; for where we have just quitted, there is scarcely any possibility of making a remark without having it snapped up by newspaper reporters, and retailers of anecdotes; here, however, we can indulge ad libitum.”
“Yes,” replied Tallyho, “and having seen thus far, I am a little inquisitive to know more. I have, it is true, at times seen the names of the parties you pointed out to me in the daily prints, but a sight of their persons in their official stations excites stronger curiosity.”
“Then,” said Tom, “according to promise I will give you a sort of brief sketch of some of them. The present Lord Mayor is a very eminent wholesale stationer, carrying on an extensive trade in Queen-street; he ought to have filled the chair before this, but some temporary circumstances relative to his mercantile concerns induced him to give up his rotation. He has since removed the obstacle, and has been elected by his fellow-citizens to the high and important office of Chief Magistrate. I believe he has not signalized himself by any remarkable circumstance, but he has the character of being a worthy man. Perhaps there are few in the Court of Aldermen who have obtained more deservedly the esteem of the Livery of London, than Alderman Waithman, whose exertions have long been directed to the correction of abuses, and who represented them as one of their members during the last Parliament, when he displaced the mighty Alderman Curtis. Waithman is of humble origin, and has, like many others of Civic notoriety, worked his way by perseverance and integrity as a linen-draper, to respectable independence, and the hearts of his fellow-citizens: he has served the office of Sheriff, and during that time acted with a becoming spirit at the death of the late Queen, by risking his own life to save others. His political sentiments are on the opposition side, consequently he is no favorite with ministers.”
“And if he were,” replied Tallyho, “that would scarcely be considered an honour.”
“True,” continued Tom, “but then it might lead to profit, as it has done with many others, though he appears to hold such very light.
~~213~~~ “Alderman Wood has not yet been so fortunate as the celebrated Whittington, whom you may recollect was thrice Lord Mayor of London; but he has had the honour to serve that office during two succeeding years: he is a member of Parliament, and his exertions in behalf of the late Queen, if they have done him no great deal of good among the higher powers, are at least honourable to his heart.
“Of Sir Claudius Stephen Hunter there is but little to be said, except that he has served the office, and been a Colonel of the City Militia--led off the ball at a Jew's wedding--used to ride a white charger--and is so passionately fond of military parade, that had he continued another year in the office, the age of chivalry would certainly have been revived in the East, and knights-errant and esquires have completely superseded merchants, traders, and shopkeepers.
“Alderman Birch is an excellent pastry-cook, and that perhaps is the best thing that can be said of him: he has written some dramatic pieces; but the pastry is beyond all comparison best of the two, and he needs no other passport to fame, at least with his fellow-citizens.
“But last, though not least, under our present consideration, comes the renowned Sir William, a plain bluff John Bull; he is said to be the son of a presbyterian citizen, and was rigidly educated in his father's religion. He obtained the alderman's gown, and represented the City in the year 1790: he is a good natured, and, I believe, a good hearted man enough, though he has long been a subject for satirical wit. He was Lord Mayor in 1796: you may recollect what was related of him by the literary labourer we met with in the Park--anecdotes and caricatures have been published in abundance upon him: he may, however, be considered in various points of view--as an alderman and a biscuit baker--as a fisherman “--
“How!” cried Tallyho!
“Why, as a fisherman, he is the Polyphemus of his time.
“His rod was made out of the strongest oak, His line a cable which no storm e'er broke, His hook was baited with a dragon's tail, He sat upon a rock and bobb'd for a whale.”
“Besides which,” continued Dashall, “he is a great sailor; has a yacht of his own, and generally accompanies
~~214~~~ Royalty on aquatic excursions. I remember a laughable caricature, exhibiting the alderman in his own vessel, with a turtle suspended on a pole, with the following lines, in imitation of Black-eyed Susan, said to be written by Mr. Jekyll:--
“All in the Downs the fleet lay moor'd, The streamers waving in the wind, When Castlereagh appeared on board, 'Ah where shall I my Curtis find. Tell me ye jovial sailors, tell me true, Does my fat William sail among your crew.'”
He is a banker, a loan-monger, and a contractor, a member of Parliament, and an orator; added to which, he may be said to be a man of wit and humour--at all events he is the cause of it in others. His first occupations have procured him great wealth, and his wit and humour great fame.
“The worthy Alderman's hospitality to the late good humoured and gossiping James Boswell, the humble follower and biographer of Dr. Johnson, is well known; and it is probable that the pleasures of the table, in which no man more joyously engaged, shortened his life. To write the life of a great man is no easy task, and to write that of a big one may be no less arduous. Whether the Alderman really expected to be held up to future fame by the Biographer of Johnson, cannot be very easily ascertained; however that wish and expectation, if it ever existed, was completely frustrated by the death of poor Boswell.
“I recollect to have seen some lines of the worthy Alderman, on the glorious victory of the Nile, which shew at once his patriotism, his wit, and his resolution, in that he is not to be laughed out of the memorable toast he once gave--
“Great Nelson, in the grandest stile, Bore down upon the shores of Nile, And there obtained a famous victory, Which puzzled much the French Directory. The impudence of them there fellows, As all the newspapers do tell us, Had put the grand Turk in a pet, Which caus'd him send to Nelson an aigrette; Likewise a grand pelisse, a noble boon-- Then let us hope--a speedy peace and soon.”{1}
1 Whether the following lines are from the same hand or not, we are unable to ascertain; at least they wear a great similarity of character:
I give you the three glorious C's.
Our Church, Constitution, and King; Then fill up three bumpers to three noble Vs. Wine, Women, and Whale fish-ing.
~~215~~~ “Egad,” said Bob, “if this be true, he appears to knock up rhymes almost as well as he could bake biscuits” (smothering a laugh.)
“Why,” replied Dashall, “I believe that it has not been positively ascertained that these lines, which unlike other poetry, contain no fiction, but plain and undeniable matter of fact, were wholly indicated by the worthy Alderman; indeed it is not impossible but that his worship's barber might have had a hand in their composition. It would be hard indeed, if in his operations upon the Alderman's pericranium, he should not have absorbed some of the effluvia of the wit and genius contained therein; and in justice to this operator on his chin and caput, I ought to give you a specimen which was produced by him upon the election of his Lordship to the Mayoralty--
“Our present Mayor is William Curtis, A man of weight and that your sort is.”
“This epigrammatic distich, which cannot be said to be destitute of point, upon being read at table, received, as it deserved, a large share of commendation; and his Lordship declared to the company present, that it had not taken his barber above three hours to produce it extempore.”
Tallyho laughed heartily at these satirical touches upon the poor Alderman.
“However,” continued Tom, “a man with plenty of money can bear laughing at, and sometimes laughs at himself, though I suspect he will hardly laugh or produce a laugh in others, by what he stated in his seat in the House of Commons, on the subject of the riots{1} at Knightsbridge. I suspect his wit and good humour will hardly protect him in that instance.”
1 On a motion made by Mr. Favell in the Court of Common Council, on the 21st of March, the following resolution was passed, indicative of the opinion that Court entertained of the conduct of Alderman Curtis on the occasion here alluded to:
“That Sir William Curtis, Bart, having acknowledged in his place in this Court, that a certain speech now read was delivered by him in the House of Commons, in which, among other matters which he stated respecting the late riot at Knightsbridge, he said, 'That he had been anxious that a Committee should investigate this question, because he wished to let the world know the real character of this Great Common Council, who were always meddling with matters which they had nothing to do with, and which were far above their wisdom and energy. It was from such principles they had engaged in the recent inquiry, which he would contend they had no right to enter upon. Not only was evidence selected, but questions were put to draw such answers as the party putting them desired.'
“That the conduct of Sir William Curtis, one of the repre- sentatives of this City in Parliament, lias justly merited the censure and indignation of this Court and of his fellow Citizens.”
~~216~~~ After taking a cursory look into the Chamberlain's Office, the Court of King's Bench and Common Pleas, they took their departure from Guildhall, very well satisfied with their morning's excursion.
It was between three and four o'clock when our friends left the Hall. Tom Dashalt, being upon the qui vive, determined to give his Cousin a chevy for the remainder of the day; and for this purpose, it being on a Friday, he proposed a stroll among the Prad-sellers in Smithfield, where, after partaking of a steak and a bottle at Dolly's, they accordingly repaired.
“You will recollect,” said Tom, “that you passed through Smithfield (which is our principal cattle market) during the time of Bartholomew Fair; but you will now find it in a situation so different, that you would scarcely know it for the same place: you will now see it full of horse-jockeys, publicans, pugilists, and lads upon the lark like ourselves, who having no real business either in the purchase or sale of the commodities of the market, are watching the manners and manouvres of those who have.”
As Tom was imparting this piece of information to his attentive Cousin, they were entering Smithfield by the way of Giltspur-street, and were met by a man having much the appearance of a drover, who by the dodging movements of his stick directly before their eyes, inspired our friends so strongly with the idea of some animal being behind them which they could not see, and from which danger was to be apprehended, that they suddenly broke from each other, and fled forward for safety, at which a roar of laughter ensued from the byestanders, who ~~217~~~ perceiving the hoax, recommended the dandies to take care they did not dirty their boots, or get near the hoofs of the prancing prads, Tom was not much disconcerted at this effort of practical jocularity, though his Cousin seemed to have but little relish for it.
“Come along,” said Tom, catching him by the arm, and impelling him forward, “although this is not Bartholomew Fair time, you must consider all fair at the horse-fair, unless you are willing to put up with a horse-laugh.”
Struggling through crowds who appeared to be buying, selling, or bargaining for the lame, the broken winded, and spavined prads of various sizes, prices, and pretensions,
“There is little difference,” said Tom, “between this place as a market for horses, and any similar mart in the kingdom,
Here the friend and the brother Meet to humbug each other,
except that perhaps a little more refinement on the arts of gulling may be found; and it is no very uncommon thing for a stolen nag to be offered for sale in this market almost before the knowledge of his absence is ascertained by the legal owner.--I have already given you some information on the general character of horse-dealers during our visit to Tattersal's; but every species of trick and low chicanery is practised, of which numerous instances might be produced; and though I admit good horses are sometimes to be purchased here, it requires a man to be perfectly upon his guard as to who he deals with, and how he deals, although the regulations of the market are, generally speaking, good.”
“I wouldn't have him at no price,” said a costermonger, who it appeared was bargaining for a donkey; “the h------y sulkey b------ von't budge, he's not vorth a fig out of a horses------.”
“I knows better as that 'are,” cried a chimney-sweeper; “for no better an't no vare to be had; he's long backed and strong legged. Here, Bill, you get upon him, and give him rump steaks, and he'll run like the devil a'ter a parson.”
Here Bill, a little blear-eyed chimney-sweeper, mounted the poor animal, and belaboured him most unmercifully, without producing any other effect than kicking up behind, and most effectually placing poor Bill in the
~~218~~~ mud, to the great discomfiture of the donkey seller, and the mirth of the spectators. The animal brayed, the byestanders laughed, and the bargain, like poor Bill, was off.
After a complete turn round Smithfield, hearing occasionally the chaffing of its visitants, and once or twice being nearly run over, they took their departure from this scene of bustle, bargaining, and confusion, taking their way down King-street, up Holborn Hill, and along Great Queen-street.
“Now,” said Tom, “we will have a look in at Covent Garden Theatre; the Exile is produced there with great splendour. The piece is certainly got up in a style of the utmost magnificence, and maintains its ground in the theatre rather upon that score than its really interesting dialogue, though some of the scenes are well worked up, and have powerful claims upon approbation. The original has been altered, abridged, and (by some termed) amended, in order to introduce a gorgeous coronation, a popular species of entertainment lately.”
Upon entering the theatre, Tallyho was almost riveted in attention to the performance, and the latter scene closed upon him with all its splendid pageantry before he discovered that his Cousin had given him the slip, and a dashing cyprian of the first order was seated at his elbow, with whom entering into a conversation, the minutes were not measured till Dashall's return, who perceiving he was engaged, appeared inclined to retire, and leave the cooing couple to their apparently agreeable tete-a-tete. Bob, however, observing him, immediately wished his fair incognita good night, and joined his Cousin.
“D------d dull,” said Tom,--“all weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable.”
“But very grand,” rejoined Bob.
“I have found nothing to look at,” replied Tom; “I have hunted every part of the House, and only seen two persons I know.”
“And I,” said Tallyho, “have been all the while looking at the piece.”
“Which piece do you mean, the one beside you, or the one before you?”
“The performance--The Coronation.”
“I have had so much of that,” said Tom, “that finding you so close in attention to the stage, that I could get no ~~219~~~ opportunity of speaking to you, I have been hunting for other game, and have almost wearied myself in the pursuit without success; so that I am for quitting the premises, and making a call at a once celebrated place near at hand, which used to be called the Finish. Come along, therefore, unless you have 'mettle more attractive;' perhaps you have some engagements?”
“None upon earth to supersede the one I have with you,” was the reply. Upon which they left the House, and soon found themselves in Covent Garden Market. “This,” said Tom, “has been the spot of many larks and sprees of almost all descriptions, ana election wit has been as cheap in the market as any of the vegetables of the venders; but I am going to take you to a small house that has in former times been the resort of the greatest wits of the age. Sheridan, Fox, and others of their time, have not disdained to be its inmates, nor is it now deserted by the votaries of genius, though considerably altered, and conducted in a different manner: it still, however, affords much amusement and accommodation. It was formerly well known by the appellation of the Finish, and was not opened till a late hour in the night, and, as at the present moment, is generally shut up between 11 and 12 o'clock, and re-opened for the accommodation of the market people at 4 in the morning. The most respectable persons resident in the neighbourhood assemble to refresh themselves after the labours of the day with a glass of ale, spirits, or wine, as they draw no porter. The landlord is a pleasant fellow enough, and there is a pretty neat dressing young lass in the bar, whom I believe to be his sister--this is the house.”
“House,” said Bob, “why this is a deviation from the customary buildings of London; it appears to have no up stairs rooms.”
“Never mind that,” continued Dashall, “there is room enough for us, I dare say; and after your visit to the Woolpack, I suppose you can stand smoke, if you can't stand fire.”
By this time they had entered the Carpenter's Arms, when turning short round the bar, they found themselves in a small room, pretty well filled with company, enjoying their glasses, and puffing their pipes: in the right hand corner sat an undertaker, who having just obtained a victory over his opposite neighbour, was humming a stave ~~220~~~ to himself indicative of his satisfaction at the result of the contest, which it afterwards appeared was for two mighty's;{1} while his opponent was shrugging up his shoulders with a feeling of a very different kind.
“It's of no use,” said Jemmy,{2} as they called him, “for you to enter the lists along with me, for you know very well I must have you at last.”
“And no doubt it will prove a good fit,” said an elderly shoemaker of respectable appearance, who seemed to command the reverence of the company, “for all of us are subject to the pinch.”
“There's no certainty of his assertion, however,” replied the unsuccessful opponent of Jemmy.
“Surely not,”{3} said another most emphatically, taking a pinch of snuff, and offering it to the shoemaker; “for you know Jemmy may come to the finch before John.”
1 “Mighty.”--This high sounding title has recently been given to a full glass of ale,--the usual quantity of what is termed a glass being half a pint, generally supplied in a large glass which would hold more--and which when filled is consequently subjected to an additional charge.
2 To those who are in the habit of frequenting the house, this gentleman will immediately be known, as he usually smokes his pipe there of an afternoon and evening.
“With his friend and his pipe puffing sorrow away, And with honest old stingo still soaking his clay.”
With a certain demonstration before him of the mortality of human life, he deposits the bodies of his friends and neighbours in the earth, and buries the recollection of them in a cloud, determined, it should seem, to verify the words of the song, that
“The right end of life is to live and be jolly.”
His countenance and manners seldom fail to excite risibility, not-withstanding the solemnity of his calling, and there can be little doubt but he is the finisher of many, after the Finish; he is, however, generally good humoured, communicative, and facetious, and seldom refuses to see any person in company for a mighty, usually concluding the result with a mirthful ditty, or a doleful countenance, according to the situation in which he is left as a winner or a loser; and in either case accompanied with a brightness of visage, or a dull dismal countenance, indicative of the event, which sets description at defiance, and can only be judged of by being seen.
3 “Surely not,” are words in such constant use by one gentleman who is frequently to be met in this room, that the character alluded to can scarcely be mistaken: he is partial to a pinch of snuff, but seldom carries a box of his own. He is a resident in the neighbour-hood, up to snuff, and probably, like other men, sometimes snuffy; this, however, without disparagement to his general character, which is that of a respectable tradesman. He is fond of a lark, a bit of gig, and an argument; has a partiality for good living, a man of feeling, and a dealer in felt, who wishes every one to wear the cap that fits him.
~~221~~~ “Never mind,” continued Jemmy, “I take my chance in this life, and sing toll de roll loll.”
By this time our friends, being supplied with mighties, joined in the laugh which was going round at the witty sallies of the speakers.
“It is possible I may go first,” said the undertaker, resuming his pipe; “and if I should, I can't help it.”
“Surely not,--but I tell you what, Jemmy, if you are not afraid, I'll see you for two more mighties before I go, and I summons you to shew cause.”
“D------n your summons,”{1} cried the former unsuccessful opponent of the risible undertaker, who at the word summons burst into a hearty laugh, in which he was immediately joined by all but the last speaker.
“The summons is a sore place,” said Jemmy.
“Surely not. I did not speak to him, I spoke to you, Sir; and I have a right to express myself as I please: if that gentleman has an antipathy to a summons, am I to be tongue-tied? Although he may sport with sovereigns, he must be accountable to plebeians; and if I summons you to shew cause, I see no reason why he should interrupt our conversation.”
1 “D-----n your summons.” This, as one of the company afterwards remarked, was a sore place, and uttered at a moment when the irritation was strong on the affected part. The speaker is a well known extensive dealer in the pottery, Staffordshire, and glass line, who a short time since in a playful humour caught a sovereign, tossed up by another frequenter of the room, and passed it to a third. The original possessor sought restitution from the person who took the sovereign from his hand, but was referred to the actual possessor, but refused to make the application. The return of the money was formally demanded of the man of porcelain, pitchers, and pipkins, without avail. In this state of things the loser obtained a summons against the taker, and the result, as might be expected, was compulsion to restore the lost sovereign to the loving subject, together with the payment of the customary expenses, a circumstance which had the effect of causing great anger in the mind of the dealer in brittle wares. Whether he broke any of the valuable articles in his warehouse in consequence has not been ascertained, but it appears for a time to have broken a friendship between the parties concerned: such breaches, however, are perhaps easier healed than broken or cracked crockery.
~~222~~~ “Surely not,” was reverberated round the room, accompanied with a general laugh against the interrupter, who seizing the paper, appeared to read without noticing what was passing.
The company was now interrupted by the entrance of several strangers, and our two friends departed on their return homeward for the evening.
Chapter XVII
“Roam where you will, o'er London's wide domains, The mind new source of various feeling gains; Explore the giddy town, its squares, its streets, The 'wildered eye still fresh attraction greets; Here spires and towers in countless numbers rise, And lift their lofty summits to the skies; Wilt thou ascend? then cast thine eyes below, And view the motley groupes of joy and woe: Lo! they whom Heaven with affluence hath blest, Scowl with cold contumely on those distrest; And Pleasure's maze the wealthy caitiffs thread, While care-worn Merit asks in vain for bread; Yet short their weal or woe, a general doom On all awaits,--oblivion in the tomb!”
~~223~~~ Our heros next morning determined on a visit to their Hibernian friend and his aunt, whom they found had not yet forgot the entertainment at the Mansion-house, and which still continued to be the favorite topic of conversation. Sir Felix expressed his satisfaction that the worthy Citizens of London retained with increasing splendor their long established renown of pre-eminent distinction in the art of good living.
“And let us hope,” said Dashall, “that they will not at any future period be reduced to the lamentable necessity of restraining the progress of epicurism, as in the year 1543, when the Lord Mayor and Common Council enacted a sumptuary law to prevent luxurious eating; by which it was ordered, that the Mayor should confine himself to seven, Aldermen and Sheriffs to six, and the Sword-bearer to four dishes at dinner or supper, under the penalty of forty shillings for each supernumerary dish!”
“A law,” rejoined the Baronet, “which voluptuaries of the present times would find more difficult of observance than any enjoined by the decalogue.”
The Squire suggested the expediency of a similar enactment, with a view to productive results; for were the ~~224~~~ wealthy citizens (he observed) prohibited the indulgence of luxurious eating, under certain penalties, the produce would be highly beneficial to the civic treasury.
The Fine Arts claiming a priority of notice, the party determined on visiting a few of the private and public Exhibitions.
London is now much and deservedly distinguished for the cultivation of the fine arts. The commotions on the continent operated as a hurricane on the productions of
genius, and the finest works of ancient and modern times ave been removed from their old situations to the asylum afforded by the wooden walls of Britain. Many of them have, therefore, been consigned to this country, and are now in the collections of our nobility and gentry, chiefly in and about the metropolis.
Although France may possess the greatest number of the larger works of the old masters, yet England undoubtedly possesses the greatest portion of their first-rate productions, which is accounted for by the great painters exerting all their talents on such pictures as were not too large to be actually painted by their own hands, while in their larger works they resorted to inferior assistance. Pictures, therefore, of this kind, being extremely valuable, and at the same time portable, England, during the convulsions on the Continent, was the only place where such paintings could obtain a commensurate price. Such is the wealth of individuals in this country, that some of these pictures now described, belonging to private collections, were purchased at the great prices of ten and twelve thousand guineas each.
Amongst the many private collections of pictures, statues, &c. in the metropolis, that of the Marquis of Stafford, called the Cleveland Gallery, is the most prominent, being the finest collection of the old masters in England, and was principally selected from the works that formerly composed the celebrated Orleans Gallery, and others, which at the commencement of the French revolution were brought to this country. Thither, then, our tourists directed their progress, and through the mediation of Dashall access was obtained without difficulty.
The party derived much pleasure in the inspection of this collection, which contains two or three fine pictures of Raphael, several by Titian and the Caracas, some ~~225~~~ capital productions of the Dutch and Flemish schools, and some admirable productions of the English school, particularly two by Wilson, one by Turner, and one by Vobson, amounting, in the whole, to 300 first-rate pictures by the first masters, admirably distributed in the new gallery, the drawing-room, the Poussin room (containing eight chef d'oeuvres of that painter), the passage-room, dining-room, old anti-room, old gallery, and small room. The noble proprietor has liberally appropriated one day in the week for the public to view these pictures. The curiosity of.the visitors being now amply gratified, they retired, Sir Felix much pleased with the polite attention of the domestic who conducted them through the different apartments, to whom Miss Macgilligan offered a gratuity, but the acceptance of which was, with courteous acknowledgments, declined.
Proceeding to the house of Mr. Angerstein, Pall Mall, our party obtained leave to inspect a collection, not numerous, but perhaps the most select of any in London, and which has certainly been formed at the greatest expense in proportion to its numbers. Among its principal ornaments are four of the finest landscapes by Claude; the Venus and Adonis, and the Ganymede, by Titian, from the Colonna palace at Rome; a very fine landscape by Poussin, and other works by Velasquez, Rubens, Murillo, and Vandyck: to all which is added the invaluable series of Hogarth's Marriage-a-la-mode.
Returning along Pall-Mall, our perambulators now reached the Gallery of the British Institution; a Public Exhibition, established in the year 1805, under the patronage of his late Majesty, for the encouragement and reward of the talents of British artists, exhibiting during half of the year a collection of the works of living artists for sale; and during the other half year, it is furnished with pictures painted by the most celebrated masters, for the study of the academic and other pupils in painting. The Institution, now patronised by his present Majesty, is supported by the subscriptions of the principal nobility and gentry, and the number of pictures sold under their influence is very considerable. The gallery was first opened on April 17, 1806.
In 1813, the public were gratified by a display of the best works of Sir Joshua Reynolds, collected by the industry and influence of the committee, from the private ~~226~~~ collections of the royal family, nobility, and gentry; and in 1814, by a collection of 221 pictures of those inimitable painters, Hogarth, Gainsborough, and Wilson.{1}
1 That the Fine Arts engaged not a little of the attention of the British Public during the late reign, is a fact too notorious to require proof. The establishment of the Royal Academy, in 1768, and its consequent yearly Exhibitions, awakened the observation or stimulated the vanity of the easy and the affluent, of the few who had taste, and of the many who were eager to be thought the possessors of it, to a subject already honoured by the solicitude of the sovereign. A considerable proportion of the public was thus induced to talk of painting and painters, and to sit for a portrait soon became the fashion; a fashion, strange to say, which has lasted ever since. Whether the talents of Sir Joshua Reynolds as a painter, were alone the cause of his high reputation, may, however, admit of a doubt. From an early period of life, he had the good fortune to be associated in friendship with several of the most eminent literary characters of the age; amongst whom there were some whose high rank and personal consequence in the country greatly assisted him to realize one leading object which he had in view, that of uniting in himself (perhaps for the first time in the person of an English painter) the artist and the man of fashion. From his acknowledged success in the attainment of this object, tending as it did to the subversion of ancient prejudices degrading to art, what beneficial effects might not have resulted, had the President exerted his influence to sustain the dignity of the artist in others! But satisfied with the place in society which he himself had gained, he left the rest of the Academy to follow his example, if they could, seldom or never mixing with them in company, and contenting himself with the delivery of an annual lecture to the students. Genius is of spontaneous growth, but education, independence, and never-ceasing opportunity, are necessary to its full developement.
Since then they have regularly two annual exhibitions; one, of the best works of the old masters, for the improvement of the public taste, and knowledge of the artists, varied by some of the deceased British artists, alternately with that on their old plan of the exhibition and sale of the works of living artists.
The directors of this laudable Institution have also exhibited and procured the loan for study, of one or two of the inimitable cartoons of Raphael for their students. An annual private exhibition of their studies also takes place yearly; the last of which displayed such a degree of merit as no society or academy in Europe could equal.
Sir Felix, who on a former occasion had expressed a wish to acquire the art of verse-writing, was so much satisfied with his inspection of this exhibition, that he ~~227~~~became equally emulous of attaining the sister-art of painting; but Dashall requested him to suspend at present his choice, as perhaps he might alternately prefer the acquisition of music.
“In that case,” rejoined the Baronet, “I must endeavour to acquire the knack of rhyming extempore, that I may accompany the discordant music with correspondent doggerels to the immortal memory of the heroic achievements of my revered Aunt's mighty progenitor--O'Brien king of Ulster.”
This expression of contempt cast by the Baronet on the splendor of the ancient provincial sovereign of the north, had nearly created an open rupture between his aunt and him. Tallyho, however, happily succeeded in effecting an amnesty for the past, on promise under his guarantee of amendment for the future.
The party now migrated by Spring Garden Gate into the salubrious regions of St. James's Park, and crossing its eastern extremity, took post of observation opposite the Horse Guards, an elegant building of stone, that divides Parliament-street from St. James's Park, to which it is the principal entrance. The architect was Ware, and the building cost upwards of £30,000. It derives its name from the two regiments of Life Guards (usually called the Horse Guards) mounting guard there.
“Here is transacted,” said Dashall, “all the business of the British army in a great variety of departments, consisting of the Commander-in-Chief's Office,--the Offices of the Secretary-at-War,--the Adjutant-General's Office,--the Quarter-Master-General's Office,--besides the Orderly Rooms for the three regiments of Foot Guards, whose arms are kept here. These three regiments, containing about 7000 men, including officers, and two regiments of Horse Guards, consisting together of 1200 men, at once serve as appendages to the King's royal state, and form a general military establishment for the metropolis. A body called the Yeomen of the Guard, consisting of 100 men, remains a curious relic of the dress of the King's guards in the fifteenth century. Some Light Horse are stationed at the Barracks in Hyde Park, to attend his Majesty, or other members of the Royal Family, chiefly in travelling; and to do duty on occasions immediately connected with the King's administration.
~~228~~~ “On the left is the Admiralty (anciently Wallingford House), containing the offices and apartments of the Lords Commissioners who superintend the marine department of this mighty empire.
“On the right is the Treasury and Secretary of State's Offices. Here, in fact, is performed the whole State business of the British Empire. In one building is directed the movements of those fleets, whose thunders rule every sea, and strike terror into every nation. In the centre is directed the energies of an army, hitherto invincible in the field, and which, number for number, would beat any other army in the world. Adjoining are the executive departments with relation to civil and domestic concerns, to foreign nations, and to our exterior colonies. And to finish the groupe, here is that wonderful Treasury, which receives and pays above a hundred millions per annum.”
Entering Parliament-street from the Horse-Guards, our perambulators now proceeded to Westminster-bridge,{1} which passing, they paid a visit to Coade and Sealy's Gallery of Artificial Stone, Westminster-bridge-road.
1 Westminster Bridge. This bridge was built between the years 1730 and 1750, and cost £389,000. It is 1223 feet long, and 44 feet wide; containing 14 piers, and 13 large and two small semicircular arches; and has on its top 28 semi-octangular towers, twelve of which are covered with half domes. The two middle piers contain each 3000 solid feet, or 200 tons of Portland stone. The middle arch is 76 feet wide, the two next 72 feet, and the last 25 feet. The free-water way between the piers is 870 feet. This bridge is esteemed one of the most beautiful in the world. Every part is fully and properly supported, and there is no false bearing or false joint throughout the whole structure; as a remarkable proof of which, we may quote the extraordinary echo of its corresponding towers, a person in one being able to hear the whispers of a person opposite, though at the distance of nearly 50 feet.
This place contains a great variety of elegant models from the antique and modern masters, of statues, busts, vases, pedestals, monuments, architectural and sculptural decorations, modelled and baked on a composition harder and more durable than any stone.
Animadverting on the utility of this work combining the taste of elegance with the advantage of permanent wear, the two friends, Tom and Bob, recollected having seen, in their rambles through the metropolis, many specimens of the perfection of this ingenious art, particularly at Carlton-House, the Pelican Office, Lombard-street, and almost all the public halls. The statues of the four ~~229~~~quarters of the world, and others at the Bank, at the Admiralty, Trinity House, Tower-hill, Somerset-place, the Theatres; and almost every street presents objects, (some of 20 years standing,) as perfect as when put up.
Retracing their steps homewards, our pedestrians again crossed the Park, and finding themselves once more in Spring Gardens, entered the Exhibition Rooms of the Society of Painters in Water Colours.
This, beyond any other gratification of the morning, pleased the party the most. The vivid tints of the various well-executed landscapes had a pleasing effect, and wore more the appearance of nature than any similar display of the fascinating art which they had hitherto witnessed.
This Society, which was formed in 1804, for the purpose of giving due emphasis to an interesting branch of art that was lost in the blaze of Somerset-House, where water-colours, however beautiful, harmonized so badly with paintings in oil, has, in its late exhibitions, deviated from its original and legitimate object, and has mixed with its own exquisite productions various pictures in oil.
The last annual exhibition of painting in oil and water colours, was as brilliant and interesting as any former one, and afforded unmixed pleasure to every visitor.
One more attraction remained in Spring Gardens, which Tom, who had all the morning very ably performed the double duty of conductor and explainer, proposed the company's visiting;--“That is,” said he, “Wigley's Promenade Rooms, where are constantly on exhibition various objects of curiosity.”
Thither then they repaired, and were much pleased with two very extraordinary productions of ingenuity, the first Mr. Theodon's grand Mechanical and Picturesque Theatre, illustrative of the effect of art in imitation of nature, in views of the Island of St. Helena, the City of Paris, the passage of Mount St. Barnard, Chinese artificial fireworks, and a storm at sea. The whole was conducted on the principle of perspective animation, in a manner highly picturesque, natural, and interesting.
Here also our party examined the original model of a newly invented travelling automaton, a machine which can, with ease and accuracy, travel at the rate of six miles an hour, ascend acclivities, and turn the narrowest corners, by machinery only, conducted by one of the persons seated within, without the assistance of either horse or steam.
~~230~~~ This extraordinary piece of mechanism attracted the particular attention of the Baronet, who minutely explored its principles, with the view, as he said, of its introduction to general use, in the province of Munster, in substitution of ricketty jaunting-cars and stumbling geldings. Miss Judith Macgilligan likewise condescended to honour this novel carriage with her approbation, as an economical improvement, embracing, with its obvious utility, a vast saving in the keep of horses, and superseding the use of jaunting-cars, the universal succedaneum, in Ireland, for more respectable vehicles; but which, she added, no lady of illustrious ancestry should resort to.
This endless recurrence to noble descent elicited from Sir Felix another “palpable hit;” who observed, that those fastidious dames of antiquity, to whatever country belonging, of apparent asperity to the present times, would do well in laying aside unfounded prejudices; that the age to which Miss Macgilligan so frequently alluded, was one of the most ignorant barbarism; and the unpolished females of that day unequal to a comparison with those of the present, as much so, as the savage squaws of America with the finished beauties of an Irish Vicegerent's drawing-room.{1}
1 The pride of ancestry, although prevalent in Ireland, is not carried to the preposterous excess exemplified by Cambrian vanity and egotism. A gentleman lately visited a friend in Wales, who, among other objects of curiosity, gratified his guest with the inspection of his family genealogical tree, which, setting at naught the minor consideration of antediluvian research, bore in its centre this notable inscription,--About this time the world was created!!!
Re-entering St. James's Park, our party directed their course towards the Mall, eastward of which they were agreeably amused by the appearance of groupes of children, who, under the care of attendant nursery maids, were regaling themselves with milk from the cow, thus presenting to these delighted juveniles a rural feast in the heart of the metropolis.
~~231~~~ Here Dashall drew the attention of his friends to a very important improvement. “Until within these few months,” said he, “the Park at night-fall presented a very sombre aspect; being so imperfectly lighted as to encourage the resort of the most depraved characters of both sexes; and although, in several instances, a general caption, by direction of the police, was made of these nocturnal visitants, yet the evil still remained; when a brilliant remedy at last was found, by entirely irradiating the darkness hitherto so favourable to the career of licentiousness: these lamps, each at a short distance from the other, have been lately introduced; stretching along the Mall, and circumscribing the Park, they shed a noon-tide splendor on the solitude of midnight. They are lighted with gas, and continue burning from sunset to day-break, combining ornament with utility. Thus vice has been banished from her wonted haunts, and the Park has become a respectable evening promenade.
“This Park,” continued the communicative Dashall, “which is nearly two miles in circuit, was enclosed by King Charles II., who planted the avenues, made the Canal and the Aviary adjacent to the Bird-cage Walk, which took its name from the cages hung in the trees; but the present fine effect of the piece of ground within the railing, is the fruit of the genius of the celebrated Mr. Brown.”{1}
1 St. James's Park was the frequent promenade of King Charles II. Here he was to be seen almost daily; unattended, except by one or two of his courtiers, and his favorite grey-hounds; inter-mixing with his subjects, in perfect confidence of their loyalty and attachment. His brother James one day remonstrating with him on the impolicy of thus exposing his person,--“James,” rejoined his majesty, “take care of yourself, and be under no apprehension for me: my people will never kill me, to make you king!”
In more recent times, Mr. Charles Townsend used every morning, as he came to the Treasury, to pass by the Canal in the Park, and feed the ducks with bread or corn, which he brought in his pocket for that purpose. One morning having called his affectionate friends, the duckey, duckey, duckies, he found unfortunately that he had forgotten them;-- “Poor duckies!” he cried, “I am sorry I am in a hurry and cannot get you some bread, but here is sixpence for you to buy some,” and threw the ducks a sixpence, which one of them gobbled up. At the office he very wisely told the story to some gentlemen with whom he was to dine. There being ducks for dinner, one of the gentlemen ordered a sixpence to be put into the body of a duck, which he gave Charles to cut up. Our hero, sur-prised at finding a sixpence among the seasoning, bade the waiter send up his master, whom he loaded with epithets of rascal and scoundrel, and swore bitterly that he would have him prosecuted for robbing the king of his ducks; “for,” said he, “gentlemen, this very morning did I give this sixpence to one of the ducks in the Canal in St. James's Park.”
~~232~~~ The party now seated themselves on one of the benches in the Mall, opposite the spot where lately stood the Chinese or Pagoda bridge. Tallyho had often animadverted on the absurdity of the late inconvenient and heterogeneous wooden structure, which had been erected at a considerable public expense; its dangling non-descript ornaments, and tiresome acclivity and descent of forty steps each. “What,” said he, “notwithstanding the protection by centinels of this precious memento of vitiated taste, has it become the prey of dilapidation?”
“Rather,” answered Dashall, “of premature decay. Its crazy condition induced the sage authors of its origin to hasten its destruction; like the Cherokee chief, who, when the object of his regard becomes no longer useful, buries him alive!”
Contrasting the magnificent appearance of the adjacent edifices, as seen from the Park, with one of apparently very humble pretensions, Miss Macgilligan inquired to what purpose the “shabby fabric” was applied, and by whom occupied.
“That 'shabby fabric,' Madam,” responded Dashall, “is St. James's Palace, erected by Henry VIII., in which our sovereigns of England have held their Courts from the reign of Queen Anne to that of his late Majesty George III.” {1}
1 The state apartments, now renovated, comprehend six chambers. The first is the guard chamber, at the top of the stairs: this has been entirely repaired, and on the right hand there is a characteristic chimney-piece, instead of the ill-shaped clumsy fire-place which previously disgraced this approach to the grand rooms. The next room, continuing to advance, is the presence chamber. This chamber has been remodelled, and a large handsome octagonal window introduced. This produces the best effect, and has rendered a gloomy room very light and cheerful. The privy chamber, which forms the eastern end of the great suite that runs from east to west, parallel to the Mall in the Park, and is, strictly speaking, the immediate scene of the Court; this is entirely new from the foundation, and is a continuation of the old suite of state apartments. The chamber is of noble dimensions, being nearly 70 feet in length, and having four windows towards the garden and Park beyond. A magnificent marble chimney-piece occupies the centre, on the east end. The anti-drawing-room and the drawing-room, in which little alteration appears, except in the introduction of splendid chimney-pieces of statuary marble, taken from the library of Queen Caroline in the Stable Yard, built by Kent. The workmanship of these is amazingly fine, and the designs very rich. The throne is at the upper end of the drawing room No. 5, and from the chimney of the room No. 3, the vista through the middle doors of the anti-drawing-rooms is about 200 feet!! The_coup d'oeil_ must be indescribably grand, when all the three apartments are filled with rank and beauty. The ceilings of the principal rooms, 3, 4, and 5, are coved upon handsome cornices, carved and gilt. This gives the apartments a spacious and lofty appearance; and there being four large windows in each, the whole suite is very imposing. The rooms are to be fitted with mirrors, and a noble collection of the royal pictures. Over the chimney in the drawing-room, Lawrence's splendid portrait of George IV., surrounded by the fine old carvings of Grinling Gibbons, of which many are preserved in the Palace, will be the principal object. In the anti-drawing-room a portrait of the venerable George III. will occupy a similar station; and on each side will appear the victories which reflected the highest lustre on his reign,--Trafalgar and Waterloo. In the privy chamber, a portrait of Queen Anne will be attended by the great Marlborough triumphs of Lisle and Tournay, Blenheim, and other historical pieces. Other spaces will exhibit a series of royal portraits, from the period of the founder of the Palace, Henry VIII. to the present era; including, of course, some of the most celebrated works of Holbein and Vandyke. The unrivalled “Charles on horseback,” by the latter, is among the number, and the gallery, altogether, must be inestimable, even as a panorama of the arts in England for three centuries. On the whole, these state apartments, when completed, will not be excelled, if equalled, by any others in Europe. Holbein, whom we have just mentioned, was a favourite of Henry VIII. One day, when the painter was privately drawing a lady's picture for the king, a nobleman forced himself into the chamber. Holbein threw him down stairs; the peer cried out; Holbein bolted himself in, escaped over the roof of the house, and running directly to the king, fell on his knees, and besought his majesty to pardon him, without declaring the offence. The king promised to forgive him, if he would tell the truth. Immediately arrives the lord with his complaint. After hearing the whole, his majesty said to the nobleman,--” You have behaved in a manner unworthy of your rank. I tell you, of seven peasants I can make so many lords, but not one Holbein. Be gone, and remember this, if you ever presume to avenge yourself, I shall look on an injury you do to the painter as done to me.”
~~233~~~ The descendant of O'Brien was astonished, and connecting her ideas of the internal show of this Palace with its outward appearance, doubted not, secretly, that it was far inferior to the residence, in former times, of her royal progenitor.
Probably guessing her thoughts, Dashall proceeded to observe, that the Palace was venerable from age, and in its interior decoration that it fully corresponded in splendor with the regal purposes to which it had been so long applied; “It is now, however,” he added, “about to assume a still more imposing aspect, being under alterations and adornments, for the reception of the Court of his present Majesty, which, when completed, will render it worthy the presence of the Sovereign of this great Empire.”
~~234~~~ The sole use made lately of St. James's Palace, is for purposes of state. In 1808, the south-eastern wing of the building was destroyed by fire; the state apartments were, however, uninjured, and the Court of George the Third and his Queen was held here.
On the right of the Palace, the attention of the party was next attracted by Marlborough House. It was built in the reign of Queen Anne, by the public, at the expense of 40,000L. on part of the royal gardens, and given by the Queen and Parliament, on a long lease, to the great Duke of Marlborough. It is a handsome building, much improved of late years, and has a garden extending to the Park, and forms a striking contrast to the adjoining Palace of St. James's. It is now the town residence of his Royal Highness, Prince Leopold of Saxe Cobourg.
Our party now passed into St. James's-street, where Miss Macgilligan, whose acerbitude of temper had been much softened by the politeness of her friends during the morning's ramble, mentioned, that she had a visit to make on an occasion of etiquette, and requesting the honour of the gentlemen's company to dinner, she was handed by the Squire of Belville-hall, with all due gallantry and obeisance, into a hackney-chariot; Tom in the meanwhile noting its number, in the anticipation of its ultimately proving a requisite precaution.
The trio, now left to their own pursuits, lounged leisurely up St. James's-street, and pausing at the caricature shop, an incident occurred which placed in a very favorable point of view the Baronet's promptitude of reply and equanimity of temper. Having had recourse to his glasses, lie stood on the pavement, examining the prints, unobservant of any other object; when a porter with a load brushed hastily forward, and coming in contact with the Baronet, put him, involuntarily, by the violence of the shock, to the left about face, without the word either of caution or command. “Damn your spectacles!” at same time, exclaimed the fellow; “Thank you, my good friend,” rejoined Sir Felix,--“it is not the first time that my spectacles have saved my eyes!”
~~235~~~ Remarking on this rencounter, Dashall observed, that the insolence of these fellows was become really a public nuisance. Armed in the panoply of arrogance, they assume the right of the footway, to the ejection, danger, and frequent injury of other passengers; moving in a direct line with loads that sometimes stretch on either side the width of the pavement, they dash onward, careless whom they may run against, or what mischief may ensue. “I would not,” continued Dashall, “class them with beasts of burthen, and confine them to the carriage-way of the street, like other brutes of that description; but I would have them placed under the control of some salutary regulations, and humanized under the dread of punishment.”
The Squire coincided with his friend in opinion, and added, by way of illustration, that it was only a few days since he witnessed a serious accident occasioned by the scandalous conduct of a porter: the fellow bore on his shoulders a chest of drawers, a corner of which, while he forced his way along the pavement, struck a young lady a stunning blow on the head, bringing her violently to the ground, and falling against a shop window, one of her hands went through a pane of glass, by which she was severely cut; thus sustaining a double injury, either of which might have been attended with fatal consequences.
The three friends had now gained the fashionable lounge of Bond-street, whence turning into Conduit-street, they entered Limmer's Coffee-house, for the purpose of closing, by refreshment, the morning's excursion.
Here Dashall recognized an old acquaintance in the person of an eminent physician, who, after an interchange of civilities, resumed his attention to the daily journals.
In the same box with this gentleman, and directly opposite, sat another, whose health was apparently on the decline, who finding that the ingenious physician had occasionally dropped into this coffee-house, had placed himself vis-a-vis the doctor, and made many indirect efforts to withdraw his attention from the newspaper to examine the index of his (the invalid's) constitution. He at last ventured a bold push at once, in the following terms: “Doctor,” said he, “I have for a long time been very far from being well, and as I belong to an office, where I am obliged to attend everyday, the complaints I have prove very troublesome to me, ~~236~~~ and I would be glad to remove them.”--The doctor laid down his paper, and regarded his patient with a steady eye, while he proceeded. “I have but little appetite, and digest what I eat very poorly; I have a strange swimming in my head,” &c. In short, after giving the doctor a full quarter of an hour's detail of all his symptoms, he concluded the state of his case with a direct question:--“Pray, doctor, what shall I take?” The doctor, in the act of resuming the newspaper, gave him the following laconic prescription:--“Take, why, take advice!”
This colloquy, and its ludicrous result, having been perfectly audible to the company present, afforded considerable entertainment, of which the manoeuvring invalid seemed in no degree willing to partake, for he presently made his exit, without even thanking the doctor for his gratuitous advice.{1}
1 Limmeb's Hotel.--This justly esteemed Hotel was much frequented by the late unfortunate Lord Camelford. Entering the coffee-room one evening, meanly attired, as he often was, he sat down to peruse the papers of the day. Soon after came in a “dashing fellow,” a “first-rate blood,” who threw himself into the opposite seat of the same box with Lord C, and in a most consequential tone hallowed out, “Waiter! bring in a pint of Madeira, and a couple of wax candles, and put them in the next box.” He then drew to him Lord C.'s candle, and set himself to read. His Lordship glanced at him a look of indignation, but exerting his optics a little more, continued to decypher his paper. The waiter soon re- appeared, and with a multitude of obsequious bows, announced his having completed the commands of the gentleman, who immediately lounged round into his box. Lord Camelford having finished his paragraph, called out in a mimic tone to that of Mr.-----, “Waiter! bring me a pair of snuffers.” These were quickly brought, when his Lordship laid down his paper, walked round to the box in which Mr.-----was, snuffed out both the candles, and leisurely returned to his seat. Boiling with rage and fury, the indignant beau roared out, “Waiter! waiter! waiter! who the devil is this fellow, that dares thus to insult a gentleman? Who is he? What is he? What do they call him?”--“Lord Camelford, Sir,” said the waiter.--“Who? Lord Camelford!” returned the former, in a tone of voice scarcely audible; horror-struck at the recollection of his own impertinence, and almost doubting whether he was still in existence--“Lord Camelford!!! What have I to pay?” On being told, he laid down his score, and actually stole away, without daring to taste his Madeira.
~~237~~~ The repast ended, the friends separated; Sir Felix to rejoin his august relative at their lodgings, and arrange with her preparations for the entertainment of Tom and Bob, and these two gentlemen also returning homewards to dress for the important occasion.
Passing the house of his tailor, the Baronet stept in, and desired Mr. Snip to send to his lodgings, any time in the course of the evening, for the last new suit, for the purpose of alteration, as had been already pointed out.
Miss Macgilligan had preceded her nephew in reaching home, and gave him, on his arrival, an appropriate and edifying lecture on a three-fold subject, embracing--petulancy,--respect to superiors,--and veneration for the memory of our ancestors.
The Baronet, who never designed seriously to insult his aunt, but merely to have a bye-blow at her prominent foible,--pride of descent,--listened with becoming deference to her dissertation, which was interrupted by the entrance of his servant, (the same who on a certain occasion confided to Mother Cummings the safety of his master's property,{1})--“The tailor's boy, Sir Felix, for the new suit your Honor ordered to be altered.”--“Very well,” rejoined Sir Felix, “sure enough Mr. Snip is prompt in observance of instructions,--let the lad have the suit immediately.”--This business having been despatched, Miss Macgilligan was about to resume her admonitory discourse; when, luckily, the arrival of the expected guests prevented its continuance, and it was consequently postponed until a more favourable opportunity.
1 Vide page 130.
Dinner was shortly announced, during which nothing occurred of particular import. When the exhilirating “Tuscan grape” had superseded the discarded viands, Miss Macgilligan mentioned, that she had been grossly imposed upon by the driver of the hackney-chariot. It seems, that conceiving Jehu was exacting more than his fare, the lady, presenting a handful of silver, told him to take it all, if he thought proper, and the conscientious knight of the whip had actually embraced the offer in its literal acceptation, and pocketing the money, made the best of his way, before she recovered from the surprise occasioned by this “iniquitous” transaction.
~~238~~~ “Iniquitous!” repeated the Baronet;--“by the powers of folly but there was no advantage taken at all, at all; and the man must have been worse than an idiot had he rejected so liberal an offer! Gra-machree, he might cry, and thanks to the donor, such opportunities don't occur every day.”
Appealing to her guests, she had the mortification of finding the opinion of her nephew supported.--“Certainly, madam,” said Dashall, “the conduct of the man in putting a construction not meant upon your word, was highly reprehensible; yet I am afraid that redress is unavailable. A gift was implied, though obviously not intended, but impartially speaking, you tendered a donation, and the man, if not morally right, was legally justifiable in accepting it.”
While this case was under discussion, the baronet chuckled at the mischance of his aunt, and in defiance of the admonition given him a few hours before, seemed more petulant, less respectful, and totally irreverent of his ancestors.
In the enjoyment of this triumph, and asserting that he could not be taken-in, even by the most artfully conducted manouvre, he was struck dumb by the information that Mr. Snip the tailor had called for the new suit. “The devil fly over the hill of Howth with him!” exclaimed the astounded Sir Felix, with a secret foreboding of evil, “has he not had the new suit, hours ago?”
“He says not, sir,” answered the servant.
“Where then, in the name of mystery,” rejoined the baronet, “are the clothes gone to? They were sent by his boy, were they not?”
“He denies, sir,” responded the servant, “that he sent for the clothes at all at all.”
“Sowl of my grandmother! send in this snip of a tailor instantaneously.”
Dashall immediately surmised a fraud, and the statement of Snip converted suspicion into fact.
Mr. Snip repeated, that he had not sent for the clothes; and neither did he keep a boy; but he recollected that there was a lad in his shop purchasing some trifling article at the time Sir Felix gave his address, and ordered the new suit to be sent for; and there is no doubt, added Snip, that this young adept, being thus put in the way of successfully practising a fraud, gladly availed himself of the opportunity, and obtained possession of the clothes in my name. But, Sir Felix (continued Mr. Snip) it must have escaped your recollection when ~~239~~~ you sanctioned the delivery of the clothes, that I had particularly cautioned you, when you first honoured me with your custom, against your sending to my house any articles of apparel by pretended messengers from me, unless on the authority of my own hand writing.”
“I exonerate you,” said the baronet, “from censure, and exempt you from loss. I have been swindled. There is now no remedy. So make me another suit, and by stricter vigilance, we shall endeavour to avoid future depredation.”{1}
1 This is amongst the inferior classes of fraud daily practised in the metropolis. The following is one of a fust rate description.
Swindling.--A case most ingeniously contrived and successfully carried into execution on Saturday last, is scarcely to be equalled on the records of fraud. It was equal to that practised on Rundle and Bridge, the jewellers, some time ago, but the present case is only at the expense of four costly gold watches. The swindler, who called himself Mr. Winter, is rather above the middle size, was dressed in a brown frock coat, wears long whiskers, and is well calculated for imposition in address and manner. A house in Southampton-street, Strand, occupied by Mr. Holt, the barrister, having been advertised to be let, Mr. Winter called about it several times last week, and he appointed Saturday last to call with some ladies, when he could give a final answer; and the servants were desired, if the occupants were from home, to shew the gentleman and his party into the dining-room. Having secured this point, Mr. Winter called upon Mr. Ely, a jeweller, at the latter end of the week, and after looking over some trifles, in the shop, he desired that some ladies' watches might be brought to his residence, No. 5, Southampton-street, at a certain hour on Saturday, for inspection. The swindler called some time before the jeweller was expected, and inquired if the ladies who were to meet him there had called, and being informed in the negative, he affected surprise, and desired them to be informed of his arrival when they came. He was shewn into the front drawing-room, but he preferred the adjoining room, and desired the servant to shew a gentleman, who would call, into the front room, and let him know when he arrived. The jeweller was to his time with the goods, and Mr. Winter paid him a visit, and after looking over the goods, he selected four watches, worth 100L. to shew the ladies in the next room, instead of which he took his hat, and walked off with the watches. After waiting till out of patience, the jeweller rang the bell, and the servant missed Mr. Winter, who had promised her servitude, the landlord his new tenant, and the jeweller his watches!
~~240~~~ It was now Miss Macgilligan's turn to triumph, but, to the surprise and relief of her nephew, she did not avail herself of the privilege; sensible, perhaps, that the loss which site sustained, was occasioned by her own imprudence, and that his misfortune might have happened to those even the most guarded against deception, she consoled instead of recriminating. The most perfect unanimity now prevailed between the two relatives; and the evening passed on with increased pleasure. The unexpected migration of the new suit led to conversation on the frauds of London, when Dashall justly observed, that if the ingenuity exemplified in depredation was exercised in honest industry, in place of being now the pest, many of those men might have been the ornaments of Society.
Chapter XVIII
“Tho' village delights may charm for a time, With hunting, with cricket, with trap-ball and such, The rambles in London are bang-up and prime, And never can tire or trouble us much; Tis a life of variety, frolic, and fun: Rove which way you will, right or left, up or down. All night by the gas, and all day by the sun, Sure no joys can compare with the joys of the town.”
~~241~~~ Our two friends, in consequence of some allusions made by the company at the Finish, on a preceding day, to a house of great theatrical celebrity in Drury-lane, resolved on a visit the following evening; and it may here be necessary to introduce such of our readers as are not in the secret, to the same.
The Harp, opposite Drury-lane Theatre, is well known as the resort of theatrical amateurs and professors; but those who have not had an opportunity of visiting its interior, can scarcely form an idea of the mirth, wit, and humour constantly displayed within its walls. The circumstance here alluded to, though not exactly introduced in point of time, is one which generally takes place once in three years; viz. the election of a Mayor to represent the now City of Lushington, an event which is attended with as much of bustle, interest, and whimsicality, as a popular election for a member of Parliament. The generality of the persons who are frequent visitors to the house are termed Harponians, and by due qualification become citizens of Lushington. Although we cannot give a true and circumstantial history of this ancient city, we doubt not our numerous readers will discover that its title is derived from an important article in life, commonly called Lush. The four wards are also appropriately titled, as symbolical of the effects which are usually produced by its improper application. On entering the room, the first corner on the right hand is Suicide Ward, and derives its appellation from a society so named, in which each member is bound by an oath, that however he might feel inclined to lay violent hands upon his glass, he would not lay violent hands upon his own existence.
~~242~~~ The left hand corner has also a name as appropriate as its neighbour, being called Poverty Ward; so termed from its vicinity to the door, and the ease with which a citizen, whose tanner case{1} and toggery{2} are out of repair, may make his entree and exit, without subjecting himself to the embarrassing gaze and scrutiny of his more fortunate fellow-citizens. Juniper Ward, which is directly opposite to Poverty Ward, may in a moral point of view be said to mark the natural gradation rom the one to the other. Whether these wards are so placed by the moral considerations of the ingenious citizens or not, we are at present unable to learn; but we have discovered that Juniper Ward is so called in consequence of a club, consisting of seven citizens, who bound themselves to meet every evening exactly on the spot, taking each upon himself to defray the expense of blue ruin for the whole party on each evening alternately. In the corner directly opposite to Suicide Ward is Lunatic Ward, indicative no doubt of the few steps there are between the one and the other: hence the four corner pillars of this ancient and honourable city are replete with moral instruction to the wise and discriminating part of society.
1 Tanner case--a pocket.
2 Toggery--cloathing.
Each of these wards, like the wards of the City of London, has its alderman, and no doubt can be entertained of their being ably represented, as well as their rights and privileges being well secured and sustained. A gentleman who is well known and highly respected for his abilities and attentions as theatrical agent, which character he has sustained for many years, is high bailiff, and at proper periods issues his writ in the following form:--
“City of Lushington, (to wit.)
“The high bailiff having received a requisition to convene a meeting for the purpose of nominating aldermen to represent the different wards, and from them to elect a mayor for the above city for the year ensuing;
~~243~~~ “The high bailiff, in pursuance thereof, fixes Saturday the 22d December inst. to nominate for the purpose aforesaid, and from thence proceed to the election, which election is to continue till the following Monday, being the 24th, when the poll is to be closed.
“Given under my hand, this 18th day of December, 1821. (Signed) “F. SIMS, high bailiff.”
“Lushington Hall.”
“The election to commence at 7 o'clock; the poll to be closed at half-past 10.”
After this official notice, preparations are made in due form for the election, and in the fitting up of the hustings the most skilful and ingenious artists are selected from the several wards, while the candidates are employed in forming their committees, and canvassing their friends and fellow-citizens, each of them professing an intention to intersect the city with canals of sky blue, to reduce the price of heavy wet, and to cultivate plantations of the weed, to be given away for the benefit and advantage of the community, thereby to render taxation useless, and the comforts of life comeatable by all ranks and degrees of society. To take the burthensome load of civic state upon themselves, in order that their friends and neighbours may be free; that independence may become universal, and that the suffrages of the people may be beyond controul nor can it be doubted but these professions are made with as much sincerity in many of a similar nature in larger cities, and in situations of much greater importance.
“For quacks profess the nation's ills to cure, To mend small fortunes, and set up the poor; And oft times neatly make their projects known, By mending not the public's, but their own. The poor indeed may prove their watchful cares, That nicely sift and weigh their mean affairs, From scanty earnings nibbling portions small, As mice, by bits, steal cheese with rind and all; But why should statesmen for mechanics carve, What are they fit for but to work and starve.”
It is, however, proper to observe, that in the City of Lushington there are no sinecures, no placemen and pensioners, to exhaust the treasury; honour is the grand inducement for the acceptance of office, and highly honour'd are those who are fortunate enough to obtain the mark s of distinction to which they aspire.
~~244~~~ The oath administered upon such occasions is of a most serious and solemn nature; which, however, notwithstanding the conscientious scruples of the voters, must be taken with suitable gravity before they can be, permitted to poll; being in substance nearly as follows:--
“I (A. B.) do swear that I have been an inhabitant of the City of Lushington for the space of -- years; and that I have taken within its walls -- pots of porter, -- glasses of jackey, and smoked --pipes; (the blanks are filled in according to circumstances); that is to say, one pot of heavy wet, one glass of juniper, and one loading of weed at least annually; have been the cause of such acts in others, or have been present when such acts have been performed; and that I have not polled at this election.”
This oath is sworn with all due solemnity, by kissing the foot of a broken glass, and the vote is then recorded.
Tom and Bob, who had so little previous intimation of this important event, were informed as they proceeded to the scene of action, by a friend of one of the candidates, that the election was strongly contested between Sir William Sims, the son of the worthy high bailiff, Sir Benjamin Rosebud, Jessamine Sweetbriar, Sir Peter Paid, and Peregrine Foxall, the silver-toned orator, strongly supported by the Tag Rag and Bobtail Club. Sir Frederick Atkinson introduced and proposed by the Marquis of Huntley, a well known sporting character from the county of Surrey, and Mr. Alderman Whetman, of Lushington notoriety. The door of the house was well guarded by the posse comitatis, armed with staves, emblematical of the renowned city to which they belonged, and decorated with the favors of the different candidates by whom they were employed, or whose interest they espoused. The staves, instead of the crown, were surmounted by quartern measures, and produced a most striking and novel effect, as they appeared to be more reverenced and respected than that gaudy bauble which is a representative of Royalty.
At the moment of our friends entrance, large bodies of voters were brought up by canvassing parties from the surrounding habitations, with colours flying, and were introduced in succession to poll; and as time was fast escaping, every one was active in support of his favourite candidate. All was bustle and anxiety, and Tom and Bob approached the hustings with two chimney-sweepers, a hackney-coachman, and three light bearers, alias link-carriers, from Covent Garden Theatre. Having polled for Sir William Sims, who very politely returned thanks for ~~245~~~ the honour conferred on him, standing room was provided for them by the inhabitants of Lunatic Ward, who it should seem, like others under the influence of the moon, have their lucid intervals, and who upon this occasion displayed a more than usual portion of sanity, mingled with good humour and humanity.
In this quarter of the city, where our friends expected to find distracted, or at least abstracted intellect, they were very pleasingly disappointed at discovering they were associated with reasonable and intelligent beings; although some of them, fatigued by their exertions during the election, were so strongly attacked by Somnus, that notwithstanding the bustle with which they were surrounded, they occasionally dropped into the arms of the drowsy god, and accompanied the proceedings with a snore, till again roused to light and life by some more wakeful inhabitant.
At the appointed time, the high bailiff announced the election closed, and after an examination of the votes, declared the choice to have fallen on Sir William, a circumstance which drew forth a unanimous burst of approbation, long, loud, and deep, which in a few moments being communicated to those without. This was as cordially and as vociferously answered by anxious and admiring crowds.
The influx of citizens, upon the event being known, to hear the speeches of the different candidates, choaked up every avenue to the hustings, and beggars all description; the inimitable pencil of a Hogarth could hardly have done justice to the scene, and a Common Hall of the City of London might be considered a common fool to it; every voter had a right, established that right, and enjoyed it. Here stood the well-dressed Corinthian in his bang-up toggery, alongside of a man in armour, one of the Braziers Company, armed with a pot-lid and a spit, and decorated with a jack-chain round his neck. There stood a controller of the prads, a Jarvey, in close conversation with one of the lighters of the world, with his torch in hand. A flue faker in one corner, was endeavouring to explain a distinction between smoke and gas to a lamplighter, who declared it as his opinion, “that the City of Lushington,--at all times a luminous and deservedly revered City,--had had more light thrown upon it that election, by the introduction of the link carriers, than it ever had before; and likewise that his dissertation on smoke and gas was not worth one puff from his pipe.”
~~246~~~ In the midst of this bustle, noise and confusion, it was some time before the high bailiff could obtain silence; when Sir William made his appearance on the hustings, and in language well suited for the occasion, declared the heartfelt gratitude he entertained for the high and distinguished honour so handsomely conferred upon him, with his determination never to lose sight of the invaluable rights and privileges of his constituents, assuring them they were welcome to indulge themselves with any thing the house afforded. He next complimented his opponents on the very gentlemanlike way in which the election had been conducted, and alluded most emphatically to the introduction of those voters who endeavour to lighten the darkness of the world, the link-carriers, who by their manners and conduct had become on that occasion as it were links of a chain, which in point of friendship, good humour and independence, he sincerely hoped would never be broken. Rapturous applause followed this speech, which notwithstanding the almost overpowering load of gratitude with which the speaker was burthened, was given with good emphasis and corresponding effect.
The other candidates returned thanks to those of their fellow-citizens who had supported their interest; and no one seeming inclined to call for a scrutiny, Sir William took the official oath, and was invested with the cloathing of magistracy, which being done, Mr. Alderman Whetman arose to address the mayor.
The well known ability usually displayed by this gentleman, his patriotic zeal, and undeviating integrity, commanded immediate silence, while he informed the chief magistrate of a circumstance which had recently occurred, and which left one of the wards unrepresented, by a worthy alderman who in consequence of accepting an office in the board of controul, had by the laws of Lushington vacated his seat. An explanation being demanded, it appeared that the worthy alderman had become a deputy manager of a country theatre, and consequently must be considered under the board of controul; it was therefore necessary he should at least be re-elected before he could be allowed to continue in the distinguished station of alderman: this point being agreed to, the situation was declared vacant, and a time appointed for the election.
~~247~~~ The official business of the election being over, harmony and conviviality became the order of the night; foaming bowls and flowing glasses decorated the tables; many of the citizens withdrawing to rest after their labours, made room for those who remained, and every one seemed desirous to
“Wreath the bowl With flowers of soul, The brightest wit can find us; We'll take a flight Towards heav'n to-night, And leave dull earth behind us.”
The song, the toast, the sentiment, followed each other in rapid succession; mirth and good humour prevailed, and time, while he exhausted himself, appeared to be inexhaustible. The beams of wit, the lively sallies of humour, and the interchange of good fellowship, eradiated the glass in its circulation, and doubly enhanced its contents; and in amusements so truly congenial with the disposition of the Hon. Tom Dashall and his Cousin, they joined till after four o'clock in the morning, thus rendering themselves true and devoted citizens of Lushington, when they sallied forth, tolerably well primed for any lark or spree which chance might throw in their way. It was a fine morning, and while the shopkeepers and trades-men were taking their rest, the market gardeners and others were directing their waggons and carts to Covent Garden.
“Now,” said the Hon. Tom Dashall, “we will just take a turn round the Garden, and a stroll down Drury-lane, for a walk will do us no harm after our night's amusement, and we can hardly fail to find subjects worthy of observation, though; in all probability we are too early to realize all the poet's description of a market:”
“A market's the circle for frolic and glee, Where tastes of all kinds may be suited; The dasher, the quiz, and the “up to all”--he, Pluck sprees from the plants in it rooted. If the joker, or queer one, would fain learn a place, Where they'd wish for a morning to “lark it,” They need go no further than just shew their face, In that region of mirth, a large market.”
~~248~~~ The streets that surround the theatres, and which of an evening are thronged with the elegant equipage of the visitors, were now filled with carts, waggons, and other vehicles of various denominations, for conveyance of the marketable commodities to and from the place of sale: here and there were groupes of Irishmen and basket-women, endeavouring to obtain a load, and squabbling with assiduous vociferations for the first call.
“This,” said Tom, “is the largest market for vegetables we have in the metropolis, and supplies numerous retail dealers with their stock in trade; who assemble here early in the morning to make their bargains, and get them home before the more important business of the day, that of selling, commences.” While Tom was explaining thus briefly to his Cousin, aloud laugh attracted their attention, and drew them to a part of the market where a crowd was collected, to witness a squabble between a Jew orange merchant and a pork butcher.{1}
1 Although the Hon. Tom Dashall hurried his Cousin from the scene of altercation, at the time of its occurrence, they enjoyed a hearty laugh at the following report of the facts which appeared in one of the morning papers shortly afterwards:--
EFHRAIM versus STEWART.
“This was a proceeding in limine, by which the plain till' sought reparation for violence done to his religious scruples and bodily health by the defendant, inasmuch as he, the plaintiff being a Jew, on Wednesday, the 12th day of this month, in the forenoon, in the parish of St. Paul Covent Garden, did, with malice aforethought, knock him down with a pig's head, contrary to the statute, and against the peace of our Sovereign Lord the King,” &c.
Both plaintiff and defendant pleaded each for himself, no counsel being employed on either side.
Ephraim Ephraim deposed, that he is by profession an orange- merchant, carrying on his business in Covent Garden market. That the defendant, Richard Stewart, is a dealer in pork and poultry in the said market; and that he the said Richard Stewart, on the day and time then stated, did thrust a pig's face against his cheek with such violence, as to throw him backwards into a chest of oranges, whereby he sustained great damage both in body, mind, and merchandize. Plaintiff stated moreover, that he had previously and on sundry occasions forewarned the said Richard Stewart, it was contrary to the tenets of his religion to come in contact with pork, and yet nevertheless he the said Richard did frequently, and from time to time, intrude pork upon his attention, by holding it up aloft in the market, and exclaiming aloud, “Ephraim, will you have a mouthful?” All this, he humbly submitted, betokened great malice and wickedness in the said Richard, and he therefore besought the magistrate to interpose the protection of the law in bis behalf.
The magistrate observed, that he was astonished a person of Mr. Stewart's appearance and respectability should be guilty of such conduct, and having explained to him that the law afforded equal protection to the professors of every religion, called upon him for his defence.
“May it please your Worship,” said Mr. Richard Stewart, who is a well fed man, of a jolly and pleasing countenance, “May it please your Worship, I keeps a shop in Covent Garden Market, and have done so any time these ten years, and Mr. Ephraim's stand is next to mine. Now, your Worship, on Wednesday morning I'd a hamper o'pork sent up out o'Hertfordshire, and so I opened the hamper, and at the top of it lay a nice head, and I takes it and holds it up and says I, Heres a bootiful head, says I, did ever any body see such a handsome un, and sure enough your Worship it was the most bootiftd as ever was, and would a done any body's heart good to see it. It was cut so clean of the quarter (drawing his finger closely across his own neck), and was so short i'the snout, and as white as a sheet,--it was, your Worship, remarkably handsome. And so, I said, says I, look here, did ever tiny body see such a picture, holding it up just in this manner. With that, 'Ah, says Mr. Ephraim, says he, now my dream's out; I dream't last night that I saw two pig's heads together, and there they are;' meaning my head, and the pig's head, your Worship. Well, I took no notice o'that, but I goes me gently behind him, and slides the pig's head by the side of his head, claps my own o' the other side all on a row, with the pig's in the middle, your Worship; and says I to the folks, says I, now who'll say which is the honestest face of the three. With that, your Worship, all the folks fell a laughing, and I goes myself quietly back again to a stall. But poor Ephraim, he fell in such a passion! Lord, Lord, to see what a pucker he were in, he danced, and he capered, and he rubbed his whiskers, though I verily believe the pig's head never touched him; and he jumped and he fidgeted about, all as one as if he was mad, till at last he tumbled into the orange chest, your Worship, of his own accord, as it were, and that's the long and the short of it, your Worship, as my neighbours here can specify.”
His Worship, having listened attentively to those conflicting statements, decided that the defendant had acted indecently in insulting the religious feelings of the plaintiff, though at the same time the affair was hardly worth carrying to the Sessions, and therefore he would recommend the plaintiff to be satisfied with an apology.
The defendant expressed the greatest willingness to apologize. “For,” says he, “I have ax'd another Jew what could make Mr. Ephraim in such a passion; and he told me, your Worship, that if you get a rale Jew, and rub him with a bit o'pork, it's the greatest crime as ever was.”
Plaintiff and defendant then retired, and the matter was compromised.
~~250~~~ The Israelite appeared to be in a great rage, swore he would have revenge of his insulting neighbour, and pull him up. The exasperation of the Jew afforded much merriment to the spectators, who seemed to enjoy his aggravation: our friends, however, had arrived too late to discover the cause, and although not very particular about discovering themselves amid the mob, conceived it most prudent to move onward without inquiry; “for,” as Tom observed, “if we ask any questions we are sure to be told lies: “they then passed through the Market, made their way up James-street to Long Acre, and thence to Drury-lane.
The watchmen were just leaving their stations, with an intention to partake of what they had all night been endeavouring to deprive others, and the humbler ranks of society were preparing for the business of the day; while the batter'd beau, the clean'd out buck, and the dissipated voluptuary, were occasionally to be seen gliding from holes and corners, and scampering home with less wisdom in their heads, and less money in their purses, than when they left. Here was to be seen the City shopman, hastening away from his dulcenea, to get down his master's shutters before the gouty old gentleman should be able to crawl down stairs; there, the dandy, half dressed, and more than half seas over, buttoning his toggery close round him to keep out the damp air of the morning, affecting to sing
“Be gone dull care;”
slipped along, as he supposed, unobserved, between dustmen, scavengers, flue-fakers, gardeners, fish-fags, and brick-layer's labourers--to refit and put himself in a situation to recount the adventures of the night. At one door, stood a shivering group of half-starved chimney-sweepers, rending the air with their piercing cries of “sweep,” occasionally relieved by a few hearty d---ns bestowed upon the servant, that she did not come down, in order to let a diminutive urchin yet up the flue; leaning against a post at the corner of the street was an overdone Irishman, making a bargain with pug-nosed Peg, a sort of half-bred pinafore cyprian, whose disappointments during the night induced her to try at obtaining a morning customer. The Hibernian was relating the ill usage he had been subjected to, and the necessity he had of making a hasty retreat from the quarters he had taken up; while Bet Brill, on her road to Billingsgate, was blowing him up for wearing odd boots, and being a hod man--blowing a cloud sufficient to enliven and revive the whole party.
~~251~~~ “Poor fellow,” said Tom, “it would be a charity to pop him into a rattler, and drive him home; and do you see, he is standing close to a mud cart, the delicate drippings of which are gently replenishing his otherwise empty pockets.”
“Be aisy,” said Pat Murphy the hodman, “arn't he an Irish jontleman, arn't I a jontleman from Ireland; and arn't it lit and proper, and right and just, as well as jontlemanly, that two jontlemen should go together, so come along Peg, we'll just take a taste of the cratur, drink success to the lads of Shellaly, and put the matter in its right shape.” With this pug-nosed Peg seized him by one arm, and the last orator by the other, and in a short time they entered a sluicery in the neighbourhood, which enclosed the party from view.
Turning from the group which they had been paying attention to, they were suddenly attracted by a female purveyor for the stomach, who was serving out her tea, coffee, and saloop, from a boiling cauldron, and handing with due complaisance to her customers bread and butter, which was as eagerly swallowed and devoured by two dustmen, who appeared to relish their delicate meal with as much of appetite and gout, as the pampered palate of a City alderman would a plate of turtle. The figure of the lady, whose commodities were thus desirable and refreshing to the hungry dust-collectors, struck Bob at the first view as having something matronly and kind about it.
“These persons,” said Tom, “are really useful in their vocation; and while they provide a wholesome beverage for the industrious, are rather deserving of approbation than censure or molestation: the latter, however, they are frequently subjected to; for the kids of lark, in their moments of revelry, think lightly of such poor people's stock in trade, and consider it a prime spree to upset the whole concern, without caring who may be scalded by the downfall, or how many of their fellow-creatures may go without a breakfast and dinner in consequence; but do you mark the other woman behind her?”
“I do,” said Bob, “and it is impossible to view them both without noticing the striking contrast they form to each other.”
~~252~~~ “Your observations are just,” continued Tom; “that is an old beldame of the neighbourhood, in search of the poor unhappy girl who has just taken the Irishman in tow, an encourager of all that is vicious and baneful in society.”
“I could almost judge that from her features,” replied Bob, “though I do not pretend to much skill in physiognomy.”
“A debauched body and a vitiated mind are perceptible in her face, and having remained on the town till these were too visible for her to hope for a continuance, she is now a tutoress of others, to make the most of those with whom they promiscuously associate. She furnishes the finery, and shares the plunder. It is, however, a melancholy and disgusting picture of Real Life in London, and merely deserves to be known in order to be avoided, for there is no species of villainy to which persons of her stamp”--
“Of whom it is to be hoped there are but few,” cried Tallyho, interrupting him.
“For the sake of human nature,” replied Dashalt., “it is to be hoped so; but there is no species of villainy to which they will not stoop.” {1}
1 The Hon. Tom Dashall's observations on this subject are but too strikingly exemplified by a case heard at Worship- street Police Office a short time back, in which Jemima Matthews was charged with conduct which excited astonishment at the depravity of human nature.--One of the parish constables of Spitalfields stated, he proceeded to the residence of the prisoner in Upper Cato-street, and found the wretch at the bar surrounded by eight children, while a supper, consisting of a variety of meats and vegetables, was making ready on the fire. Three children, Frederick Clark, John Clark, and John Bailey, were owned by their parents. The children seemed so much under the controul of this infamous woman, that they were afraid to tell the truth until she was removed from the bar. Little Bailey then said, they were daily sent out to steal what they could, and bring it home in the evening. When they could get nothing else, they stole meat from the butchers, and vegetables from the green-grocers. The woman kept a pack of cards, by which she told their fortunes, whether they would succeed, or be caught by the officers. Mr. Swaby observed, that since he had attended the Office, he never witnessed a case of so much iniquity. The prisoner was remanded for further examination, and the magistrate intimated he should desire the parish to prosecute her for the misdemeanor, in exciting these children to commit felonies.
~~253~~~ At this moment their attention was suddenly called to another subject, by a loud huzza from a combination of voices at no great distance from where they then were, and in a few minutes a considerable concourse of dustmen and others appeared in view.
“There is something in the wind,” said Dashall, “we must have a look at these gentry, for there is frequently some humour among them.
“I hope,” replied Bob, “they have not overturned the dustcart in the wind, for I am apprehensive in such a case we should scarcely have eyes to view their frolics.”
Tom laughed at the ready turn of his Cousin, and remarking that all flesh was dust, proceeded towards the increasing party: here they soon found out; that, as a venerable son of the fan-tailed-hat fraternity described it, “a screw was loose.”
“Perhaps,” inquired Bob, “it is the linch-pin.” “Why aye, mayhap as how that there may be the case for aught I knows about it. Howsomdever, I'll tell you all about it:--first and foremost you must know that Dick Nobbs lives down here in Charles-street, and Dick Nobbs has got a wife. Now she is the devil's own darling, and Dick is a match for her or the devil himself, come from wherever he may, but as good a fellow as ever lapp'd up a pail full of water-gruel; and so you must know as how Dick has this here very morning been found out, in bed with another man's wife. The other man is a nightman, and rubbish-carter, vhat lives in the same house with Dick; so this here man being out all night at a job, Dick gets lushy, and so help me------, he finds his way steady enough into that there man's bed, and vhen that there man comes home, my eyes vhat a blow up! There lays Dick Nobbs fast asleep in the man's wife's arms, so he kicks up a row--Dick shews fight--and the man comes and tells us all about it; so we are going to try him for a misdemeanor, and he can't help himself no how whatsomedever.”
Tom was alive to the story, and in a few minutes the culprit was conducted to a neighbouring public-house, tried before a whole bench of the society, cast, and condemned to undergo the usual sentence in such cases made and provided, entitled, “Burning Shame,” and active preparations were making by those of the fraternity without, to carry into immediate execution the sentence pronounced by those within.
~~254~~~ The offender was decorated with a bunch of Christmas in his hat, and two large carrots in the front, to represent horns. In this manner he was mounted on the brawny shoulders of four of his companions, preceded by the crier of the court, another dustman, with a bell, which he rung lustily, and at intervals proclaimed the crime of which the culprit had been found guilty. After the crier, followed eight more of the brotherhood, two and two, their hats ornamented with bunches of holly, and a burning candle in the front of each hat. Then came the culprit, carried as already described, with a pot of heavy wet in one hand, and a pipe of tobacco in the other, which he occasionally smoaked, stooping forward to light it at one of the candles in the fantail hats of his two front supporters. The rear of this ludicrous procession was brought up by several other dustmen and coalheavers, and their ladies. The procession set out from Charles-street, down Drury-lane, Great Queen-street, Wild-street, and round Clare Market, followed by an immense crowd, which kept increasing as they went, and nearly rendered the streets impassable. Two collectors were appointed, one on each side of the street, and were very active in levying contributions among the spectators to defray the expenses. They stopped at several public-houses, where they quaffed off oceans of heavy wet, and numerous streamlets of old Jamaica, and then returned to headquarters in Charles-street, where the offence was drowned in drink, and they and their ladies passed the remainder of the evening, as happy as beer and gin, rum and tobacco, could make them.
Having witnessed a considerable part of this ceremonious proceeding, and been informed of the intended finale, our friends, who began to feel somewhat uncomfortable for want of refreshment and rest, proposed returning home; and having thrown themselves into a hack, they in a short time arrived at Piccadilly.