"Kingis Armes taverne atte Winsor, firste daie of Maye, A.D.
1414. Presente,--I John Falstaff, knight,--Mistris Dorothy,--Ned
Poins,--and myne Ancient.
"ONNE MISTRIS DOROTHY.
"Doll in the Kingis Armes hath ofte times slept,
And Doll if you will give her halfe a crowne,
If from the Kingis Armes she should be kept,--
Will sleepe in yours, or anie armes in towne.--FALSTAFF.
"On the feathers which Mistriss Dorothy weareth in her hatte:
"Under Doll's feathers, let 'Ich Dien' bee;
'I serve,' we translate this.--
I own righte welle shee serveth mee,
And would serve you I wisse.--E. POINS.
"On Dol Tearsheete her Garters; the mottoe 'Honi soit qui mal y
pense' being worked with worsteades thereon:
"Avaunt, ye peasant slaves! and see from whence
The mottoe 'Honi soit qui mal y pense.'
Dare of Dol's garters but to whisper eville,
With rapier's biting blade I'll drive ye to the deville!--PISTOL."
--E.
These verses are copied _verbatim et literatim_ from the brittle
memorial on which they were found; but should any obstinate sceptic
be hardy enough to doubt their antiquity, and, notwithstanding the
internal evidence which beams through every line, suppose them the
productions of modern days, let him read the numerous volumes of
those gentlemen who debated so learnedly and so long about the workis
of Maister Rowlie, the Bristowe poet, and the giftis of Maister
Cannynge, the Bristowe patron; and if, after he has waded through
these clear streams of ancient lore, a doubt remains in his mind--he
must be an infidel.
[110] The licentiousness of the present age is a favourite topic
with some of our popular writers; yet the drama is considered as the
mirror of public manners; and the drama is rather more correct, and
less indelicate, than it was in the year 1327, when, in a play of
the _Olde and Newe Testament_, performed at Chester, the actors who
played Adam and Eve, trying to represent these two characters to the
life, came upon the stage quite naked! What modern manager could have
dressed, or rather undressed, his performers with a stricter regard
to propriety?
[111] That wild beasts were exhibited, is, however, certain from the
following anecdote, which, not being noted by any of Dr. Johnson's
biographers, may as well have a place here:--
When the Doctor first became acquainted with David Mallet, they once
went with some other gentlemen to laugh away an hour at Southwark
Fair. At one of the booths where wild beasts were exhibited to the
wondering crowd, was a very large bear, which the showman assured
them was "cotched in the undiscovered desarts of the remotest
Russia." The bear was muzzled, and might therefore be approached with
safety, but to all the company except Johnson was very surly and
ill-tempered; of the philosopher he appeared extremely fond, rubbed
against him, and displayed every mark of awkward partiality and
subdued kindness. "How is it," said one of the company, "that this
savage animal is so attached to Mr. Johnson?" "From a very natural
cause," replied Mallet; "the bear is a Russian philosopher, and he
knows that Linnæus would have placed him in the same class with the
English moralist. They are _two_ barbarous animals of _one_ species."
The Doctor disliked Mallet for his tendency to infidelity, and this
sarcasm turned that dislike into positive hatred. He never spoke to
him afterwards, but has gibbeted him in his octavo _Dictionary_ under
the article _alias_.
[112] I cannot learn in what year the duration of this fair was
shortened; but I should suppose from the following circumstance, very
soon afterwards. This print was published in 1733, and on the 24th
of June 1735 the Court of Aldermen came to a resolution touching
Bartholomew Fair, "that the same shall not exceed Bartholomew eve,
Bartholomew day, and the day after; and that during that time nothing
but stalls and booths shall be erected for the sale of goods, wares,
and merchandizes, and no acting be permitted."
[113] A Mr. Banckes, who a few years afterwards published some rhymes
on this print, asserts, "that the performance at the booth, on the
sign of which is written, _The Fall of Bajazet_, is the droll of Fair
Rosamond." From the dresses, etc., I should imagine this ingenious
gentleman is wrong. He also observes, "that young Louis XV., King of
France, his queen, children, prime minister, etc., were this year
exhibited in Smithfield and the Borough at very reasonable prices, to
spectators of all degrees." Our artist, however, had forgot himself
in regard to the matter of which these great personages were made,
the whole town having been informed by their master of the ceremonies
that they were of a composition far exceeding wax. The same writer
goes on to inform us:
"There Yeates and Pinchbeck change the scene
To slight of hand, and clock machine;
First numerous eggs are laid, and then,
The pregnant bag brings forth a hen," etc.
From the above lines, I should suppose that the late Mr. Pinchbeck,
with his wonderful and surprising piece of mechanism the Panopticon,
was at this fair; though he frequently spoke of one of his brothers,
"who," he said, "was a showman, and who once gave a very large sum
for an elephant, and took a room at Southwark Fair, with an intention
of exhibiting it; but the passage to this room," added he, "was so
narrow, that though my poor brother 'got the beast into it, a'never
could get un out on't; a' stuck in the middle on't and died!' So,
sir, you sees my poor brother lost all his money. Ah! he was a most
unfortunate dog in everything he took in hand! and so was I, God
knows." _Cætera desunt._
[114] The late Lord Sandwich, not very eminent for his reverence of
the clerical habit, being once in a company where there were a number
of clergymen, offered, in a whisper, to lay a considerable wager with
the gentleman who sat next him, that among the ten parsons there was
not one Prayer-book. The wager was accepted, and a mock dispute gave
him occasion to ask for a Prayer-book to decide it. They had not
one.--He soon after privately offered to lay another wager with the
same gentleman, that among the ten parsons there was half a score
corkscrews. This also was accepted; and the butler being previously
instructed, coming into the room with a bottle of claret and a broken
corkscrew, requested any gentleman to lend him one. Every priest who
was present had a corkscrew in his pocket!
[115] Of Henley's absurdities we have heard much; but they had their
source in an adoption of that manner which he knew would be agreeable
to his auditors, rather than in ignorance. The following circumstance
proves he was a man of some humour:--
"I never," says a person who knew little about the doctor, "saw
Orator Henley but once, and that was at the Grecian Coffeehouse,
where a gentleman he was acquainted with coming in, and seating
himself in the same box, the following dialogue passed between them:--
_Henley._ "Pray what is become of our old friend Dick Smith? I have
not seen him for several years."
_Gentleman._ "I really don't know. The last time I heard of him he
was at Ceylon, or some of our settlements in the West Indies."
_Henley_ (_with some surprise_). "At Ceylon, or some of our
settlements in the West Indies! My good sir, in _one_ sentence there
are _two_ mistakes. Ceylon is not one of _our_ settlements, it
belongs to the Dutch; and it is situated, not in the West, but in the
East Indies."
_Gentleman_ (_with some heat_). "That I deny!"
_Henley._ "More shame for you! I will engage to bring a boy of eight
years of age who will confute you."
_Gentleman_ (_in a cooler tone of voice_). "Well,--be it where it
will, I thank God I know very little about these sort of things."
_Henley._ "What, you thank God for your ignorance, do you?"
_Gentleman_ (_in a violent rage_). "I do, sir. What then?"
_Henley._ "Sir, you have a great deal to be thankful for."
[116] These lines are from Banckes' _Poems_, p. 87, in which a
contracted copy of the print is placed as the headpiece of an epistle
to the painter. This good gentleman, with true poetic vanity,
pathetically exclaims,
"Alas! that pictures should decay;
That words alone can wit convey:
But words remain--Oh, may this verse
Remain, etc. etc."
Little did this rival of Stephen Duck imagine that the _words_ "which
alone can wit convey," would not have preserved his two volumes from
the trunkmaker, to whom every verse had been long since consigned,
had not this little print, and another copy from the same artist,
sometimes induced a collector to purchase the volumes.
The concluding lines of his poem are not, however, so contemptible:
"In vain we ransack Rome and Greece
To match this Conversation piece;
In vain our follies would advance
The names of Italy and France;
Labour and art elsewere we see,
But native humour strong in thee;
In thee--but parallels are vain,
A great original remain.
Go on to lash our reigning crimes,
And live the censor of the times."
[117] I once heard a freemason observe, that this droning disciple
of Morpheus, and the heavy politician on the opposite side, were the
Jachin and Boaz of the lodge.
[118] On the top of a shop-bill, which contains a list of Doctor
----, I forget his name's, wonderful and surprising cures, performed
by elixir of----, I don't know what, this descendant of Sangrado has
inserted a wooden print, which displays a reduced copy of his sign.
It exhibits a half-length of much such a person as our antiquated
beau, with his hand in precisely the same situation. This our quack
very emphatically denominates the _sign_ of the _headache_.
[119] Those gentlemen who wish to enjoy
"The feast of reason and the flow of soul,"
would find some use in adopting the old threadbare adage, "Not
more than the Muses, nor fewer than the Graces." Poor Mortimer the
painter, whose convivial talents were hardly to be paralleled, had
such a dislike to large companies, that he used to say, "If he
invited the twelve apostles to supper, he would certainly take two
evenings to receive them, six being a sufficient number, be the
society ever so good."
[120] The preacher is said to be intended for a portrait of a Doctor
Desaguliers.
[121] Our clerk carries every appearance of being the schoolmaster
of the hamlet. He has much of that surly, tyrannic dignity which
frequently accompanies the character. One of these gentlemen, in
a village distant from the capital, having a disagreement with
a neighbouring yeoman, the farmer, in his wrath, called him an
overbearing Turk, and an insignificant beast. Our haughty Holofernes
was irritated beyond description; his rage choked his utterance: he
stalked home, and wrote a poetical epistle to the rustic, beginning
with the lines which follow:--
"God not a beast did make, but me a man;
And not a Turk, but a true Christian;
And by His grace I am a schoolmaster;
None of the meaner kind, I dare aver."
[122] These moping birds, being the worshippers of darkness
consecrated to dulness, closing their eyes against the light, and
holding their silent, solitary reign in old buildings which are
seldom trodden by human feet, are with great propriety placed in this
church.
The cross on an escutcheon in one of the windows is there placed
to the memory of the learned and Reverend Ebenezer Muzz; who, his
epitaph declareth, after "painfullie labouring in this vineyard for
one and fortie years, now _sleepeth_ with his fathers."
[123] An hour-glass is still placed on some of the pulpits in the
provinces. Daniel Burgess, of whimsical memory, never preached
without one, and he frequently _saw it out_ three times during one
sermon. In a discourse which he once delivered at the conventicle in
Russel Court, against drunkenness, some of his hearers began to yawn
at the end of the second glass. But Daniel was not to be silenced by
a yawn; he turned his timekeeper, and altering the tone of his voice,
desired they would be patient a while longer, for he had much more to
say upon the sin of drunkenness: "therefore," added he, "my friends
and brethren, we will have another glass,--and then!"
[124] Doctor Arbuthnot, Mr. Pope, and the Dean, have united their
talents to expose the anti-climax, and selected innumerable conceits
from the ponderous works of Sir Richard Blackmore and others. They
have unkindly neglected their friend Gay; and yet Blackmore's mowing
the beard is not much worse than Gay's shaving the grass:
"When the fresh spring in all her state is crown'd,
And high luxuriant grass o'erspreads the ground,
The lab'rer with the bending scythe is seen
Shaving the surface of the waving green;
Of all her native pride disrobes the land,
And meads lays waste before his sweeping hand."
--Gay's _Pastorals_, p. 5, l. 39, etc.
[125] When I was very young, I once paid a morning visit to a poet.
Upon his table was Byshe's _Art of Poetry_. I naturally observed,
"Your manager of a puppet-show is more prudent than you are; he keeps
his wires out of sight." So tremblingly alive are these valets to the
Muses, that this good-natured hint, which had its source in a wish to
serve him, was never forgiven.
[126] This excellent paper is now no more; but our modern poets
and poetesses have a still more extended channel in which to pour
out their warm effusions. Reams of good white paper are daily
metamorphosed, and become magazines, newspapers, and, though last
mentioned, not less in regard, auctioneer's catalogues. That the last
named is as poetical as are the two former, many examples might be
adduced to prove. One shall suffice, and that one is so bespangled
with beauteous metaphors, that, though neither in rhyme nor blank
verse, yet, from its brilliancy of colouring and splendour of
diction, it must be classed amongst the most sublime compositions of
our most sublime bards. Thus is a sale announced:--"Particulars and
conditions of sale of that elegant freehold villa called Luxborough,
which will be sold on the 26th of June 1765, together with the
several farms that encompass the premises, containing in the whole
near six hundred acres of rich arable meadow, pasture, and woodland,
lying and being in an extensive vale, whose surrounding acclivities
are nobly clothed, and, rising in magnifique form, exhibit luxuriant
prospects of unequalled richness and beauty.
"The pleasure-ground is comprised in a space of eleven acres,
encompassed with ha-ha! and grub walls. The elegant disposition
of the ground is beautifully improved with vistas, groves, and
plantations, through which walks wind in extensive circuit.
Store-ponds and elevated basons occupy the areas, regale those
fragrant coverts, and afford a constant and inexhaustible supply of
water for the house, by means of lead pipes, aqueducts, etc.
"Nature, propitious, hath luxuriantly featured the circumadjacent
grounds, and art hath been judiciously introduced to give richness
and effect. The lawn swells with gentle rise and easy slopes; clumps
of trees are placed in pleasing irregularity; a serpentine stream
flows through the vale, heightening the verdure of the divided
pasture; and the villages of Chigwell, Woodford, and Woodford Bridge,
dawn through that mass of prolific richness which fills the wide
expanse."
[127] Had the artist given this speaking countenance to the girl who
is exhibited in the first print of the "Rake's Progress," how much
more should we have been interested in her situation?
[128] When this was first published, the following quotation from
Pope's _Dunciad_ was inscribed under the print:--
"Studious he sate, with all his books around,
Sinking from thought to thought, a vast profound:
Plung'd for his sense, but found no bottom there;
Then wrote and flounder'd on in mere despair."
All his books, amounting to only four, was, I suppose, the artist's
reason for erasing the lines.
A reduced copy, with some variations, is placed as the headpiece
of an Epistle to Alexander Pope, Esq., by Mr. Banckes. One of the
variations is, a cobweb over the grate. If this good gentleman had
consulted his own headpiece, he would have recollected that, as even
a poet must sometimes eat, and the poor bard had no other room, or
grate, it was natural to think he must sometimes have a fire to dress
his scanty meal. In almost every other respect he is indeed a much
more unaccommodated man than was Stephen Duck when he was a thresher.
Duck, having made some rhymes, which for a thresher were deemed
extraordinary, was taken out of his barn, furnished with a stock in
trade, and set up as a poet. After that time he never wrote a stanza;
his Muse forsook him; he was haunted by the foul fiend, and hanged or
drowned himself, because Queen Caroline, who had made him a parson,
could not make him a bishop.
In one of the journals of the day, dated June 30, 1736, I find
written as follows:--"A handsome entertainment was this day given at
Charlton, in Wiltshire, to the threshers of that village, by the Lord
Viscount Palmerston, who has given money to purchase a piece of land,
the produce of which is to be laid out in an annual entertainment,
on the 30th of June, for ever, in commemoration of Stephen Duck, who
was a thresher at that place." Happy man! patronized by the Queen's
Majesty, and
"So lov'd, so honour'd, in the House of Lords!"
[129] This unfortunate creature, in the memory of many persons now
living, used to parade the streets of the metropolis with a hautboy,
which afforded him a precarious subsistence.
[130] He was brother to Festin who led the band at Ranelagh, and has
been dead about thirty years.
[131] "What signifies," says some one to Dr. Johnson, "giving
half-pence to common beggars? they only lay them out in gin or
tobacco." "And why," replied the Doctor, "should they be denied such
sweeteners of their existence? It is surely very savage to shut out
from them every possible avenue to those pleasures reckoned too
coarse for our own acceptance. Life is a pill which none of us can
swallow without gilding; yet for the poor we delight in stripping it
still more bare, and are not ashamed to show even visible marks of
displeasure, if ever the bitter taste is taken from their mouths."
[132] This is said to be a striking resemblance of that very great
man. For many years he attended Covent Garden market every morning.
[133] It has been said that this incomparable figure was designed
as the representative of either a particular friend or a relation.
Individual satire may be very gratifying to the public, but is
frequently fatal to the satirst. Churchill, by the lines,
"Fam'd Vine Street,
Where Heaven, the kindest wish of man to grant,
Gave me an old house, and an older aunt,"
lost a considerable legacy; and it is related that Hogarth, by the
introduction of this withered votary of Diana into this print,
induced her to alter a will which had been made considerably in his
favour: she was at first well enough satisfied with her resemblance,
but some designing people taught her to be angry.
[134] Of this there is an enlarged copy, which some of our collectors
have ingeniously enough christened, _The Half-Starved Boy_. It bears
the date of 1730, and is inscribed "W. H. pinx. F. Sykes sc." Sykes
was the pupil of either Sir James Thornhill or Hogarth, and the 0
might be intended for an 8 or a 9; but the aquafortis failing, it
appears to have an earlier date than the print from which it was
copied. If the date is right, Sykes undoubtedly copied it from a
sketch of his master's, which might then be unappropriated. In any
case, it is too ridiculous to imagine for a moment that Hogarth was
a plagiary; for supposing, what is not very probable, that his pupil
was capable of delineating the figure, he would scarcely have made
the sketch without some concomitant circumstances to explain its
meaning.
[135] I speak of the large print; in the small copy, which is
inserted in this work, they are properly placed.
[136] From what combination is this now made the sign for a colour
shop?
[137] This boy is copied from a figure in a picture of _The Rape of
the Sabines_, by N. Poussin, now in the collection of Sir R. Hoare,
at Stourhead.
[138] At that period there was a windmill at the bottom of Rathbone
Place.
[139] Mr. Nichols, in his _Anecdotes_.
[140] I have seen more than one modern impression with the hands
and face tinged with red and blue. Those only are genuine which are
printed in colours.
[141] To the memory of this great and public-spirited citizen I never
saw any other memorial. Such a benefactor to the city ought to have
had a statue of gold placed in the centre of the Royal Exchange.
He was a native of Denbigh, in North Wales, and a citizen and
goldsmith of London. Though there were three Acts of Parliament
empowering the freemen of London to cut through lands, and bring a
river from any part of Middlesex or Hertfordshire, the project had
always been considered as impracticable, till Sir Hugh Middleton
undertook it. He made choice of two springs, one in the parish of
Amwell, in Hertfordshire, the other near Ware, each of them about
twenty miles from town. Having united their streams with immense
labour and expense, he conveyed them to London. This most arduous
and useful work was begun on the 20th of February 1608, and brought
into the reservoir, at Islington, on Michaelmas day, 1613. Like many
other projectors, he ruined his private fortune by his public spirit.
King James I., however, created him a baronet; and his descendants,
in lieu of a very considerable estate, had the honour of being called
Sirs. For the benefit of the poor members of the Goldsmiths' Company,
he left a share in his New River water; and his portrait is still
preserved in their hall.
The seventy-two shares into which this great liquid property was
divided, originally sold for one hundred pounds each, and for thirty
years afforded scarce any advantage to the proprietors. In the
year 1780, shares were sold at nine and ten thousand pounds each;
and their price is increasing in proportion to the increase of the
dividends, by which their value is regulated.
[142] On the resignation of Mr. Horace Walpole, in February 1738, De
Veil was appointed inspector-general of the imports and exports, and
was so severe against the retailers of spirituous liquors, that one
Allen headed a gang of rioters for the purpose of pulling down his
house, and bringing to a summary punishment two informers who were
there concealed. Allen was tried for this offence and acquitted upon
the jury's verdict declaring him lunatic.
[143] On this spot once stood the cross erected by Edward I. as a
memorial of affection for his beloved Queen Eleanor, whose remains
were here rested on their way to the place of sepulture. It was
formed from a design by Cavalini, and destroyed by the religious
fury of the Reformers. In its place, in the year 1678, was erected
the animated equestrian statue which now remains. It was cast in
brass, in the year 1633, by Le Sœur; I think by order of that
munificent encourager of the arts, Thomas Howard, Earl of Arundel.
The Parliament ordered it to be sold, and broken to pieces; but
John River, the brazier who purchased it, having more taste than
his employers, seeing, with the prophetic eye of good sense, that
the powers which were would not remain rulers very long, dug a hole
in his garden, in Holborn, and buried it unmutilated. To prove
his obedience to their order, he produced to his masters several
pieces of brass, which he told them were parts of the statue. M. de
Archenholtz adds further, that the brazier, with the true spirit
of trade, cast a great number of handles for knives and forks, and
offered them for sale, as composed of the brass which had formed
the statue. They were eagerly sought for, and purchased,--by the
loyalists from affection to their murdered monarch, by the other
party as trophies of the triumph of liberty over tyranny.
[144] Doctor Arne, in one instance, seemed to think that they should
still continue so. Having composed a very dull opera, and the town
disapproving and consigning it to a merited oblivion, the Doctor
asked Foote what was his opinion of it; "for," added he, "I really
think there is a great deal of good in it." "There is, my dear
fellow," replied the wit; "there is a great deal too much good in it;
but, setting aside its goodness and piety, there never was anything
more justly damned since damning came into fashion."
[145] There may be those who will object to a banner flouting the
sky in a barn; let such consider that the roof is not above half
thatched, and their objections will vanish. These breaches in the
roof will throw a new light upon the line.
[146] Let not this humble situation be considered with contempt. In
the reign of Queen Elizabeth, the loyal inhabitants of Shrewsbury,
expecting that her Majesty would pass through their town in one of
her northern perambulations, prepared to entertain her with a play,
which was to have been performed in a dry marl pit in the quarry; but
the Queen's highness did not come.
[147] This gentlewoman has generally been considered as intended
for the ghost: from her employment, I rather think she is the
representative of tragedy:
"Death in her hand, and murder in her eye."
The sage Melpomene herself could not go through the business with
more philosophic indifference.
[148] By the halter near them, it may be conjectured that these
balls were intended to represent bullets, and designed to hint that
some one of this noble company might on a leisure evening, in humble
imitation of the heroic Captain Machcath, endeavour to turn his lead
to gold; and, like that very great man, be in consequent danger of
making an exit with a rope round his neck.
[149] We are told by John Milton, that cannon were invented by the
devil. We are told by Alexander Pope, that stage thunder was invented
by that great critic John Dennis; and so jealous was Dennis of his
bolt being wielded by an improper hand, that being once in the pit at
Drury Lane Theatre, when the company were performing _Macbeth_, he,
on hearing the bowls rattling over his head, started from his seat,
grasped his oaken stick, and exclaimed, with an emphasis that drowned
the voices of the players, "Eternal curses light on these scoundrels!
they have stolen my thunder, and don't know how to roll it!"
[150] Our royal theatres have sometimes neglected and violated the
costume. We have seen the head of Cato covered with a periwig that
emulated Sir Cloudesley Shovel's; a Prince of Denmark decorated with
the order of St. George; Othello habited as a captain of the foot
guards; and Kent, the tough old Kent, as a Chelsea pensioner.
[151] In the second act of _Oedipus_ is the following stage
direction:--"The cloud draws that veiled the heads of the figures in
the sky, and shows them crowned with the names of Oedipus and Jocasta
written above, in great characters of gold."
[152] That these representatives of royalty sometimes meet with such
accidents, appears by the following letter from a late lecturer
upon heads, at a time when he belonged to a company of comedians at
Yarmouth:--
"YARMOUTH GAOL, _27th May 1761_.
"SIR,--When I parted from you at Lincoln, I thought long before
now to have met with some oddities worth acquainting you with. It
is grown a fashion of late to write lives: I now, and for a long
time, have had leisure sufficient to undertake mine, but want
materials for the latter part of it; for my existence now cannot
properly be called living, but what the painters term _still
life_, having ever since March 13th been confined in this town
gaol for a London debt. As the hunted deer is always shunned by
the happier herd, so am I deserted by the company, my share taken
off, and no support left me except what my wife can spare out of
hers:
'Deserted, in my utmost need,
By those my former bounties fed.'
"With an economy which till now I was ever a stranger to, I have
made a shift hitherto to victual my little garrison; but then it
has been by the assistance of some good friends; and, alas! my
clothes furnish me this week with my last resort; the next, I
must atone for my errors upon bread and water.
"Themistocles had many towns to furnish his tables, and a whole
city had the charge of his meals. In some respects I am like him,
for I am fed by the labours of a multitude. A wig has kept me two
days; the trimmings of a waistcoat as long; a ruffled shirt has
paid my washer-woman; a pair of velvet breeches discharged my
lodgings; my coat I swallow by degrees, the sleeves I breakfasted
upon for three days, the body, skirts, etc. served me as long;
and two pair of pumps enabled me to smoke several pipes. You
would be surprised to think how my appetite, barometer-like,
rises in proportion as my necessities make their terrible
advances. I here could say something droll about a good stomach,
but it is ill jesting with edged tools, and I am sure that is the
sharpest thing about me.
"You may, perhaps, think I am lost to all sense of my condition,
that while I am thus wretched I should offer at ridicule; but,
Sir, people constitutioned like me, with a disproportionable
levity of spirits, are always most merry when most miserable, and
quicken like the eyes of the consumptive, which are brightest the
nearer the patient approaches his dissolution. But to show you
that I am not lost to all reflection, I here think myself poor
enough to want a favour, and humble enough to ask it. Then, Sir,
I could draw an encomium on your good sense, humanity, etc. etc.;
but I will not pay so bad a compliment to your understanding
as to endeavour by a parade of phrases to win it over to my
interest. If at the concert you could make a gathering for me, it
would be a means of obtaining my liberty.
"You well know, Sir, the first people of rank abroad perform the
most friendly offices for the sick; be not therefore offended at
the request of the unfortunate.
"GEORGE ALEXANDER STEVENS."
[153] On the spirited style in which the late Miss Catley, of
melodious memory, performed this character, the following lines were
written; but I do not recollect having seen them printed:--
"Hail, vulgar goddess of the foul-mouth'd race!
(If modest bard may hail without offence),
On whose majestic, blush-disdaining face,
The steady hand of Fate wrote--IMPUDENCE!
Hail to thy dauntless front, and aspect bold!
Thrice hail! magnificent, immortal scold!
"The goddess, from the upper gallery's height,
With heedful look the jealous fishwife eyes;
Though early train'd to urge the mouthing fight,
She hears thy bellowing powers with new surprise;
Returns instructed to the realms that bore her,
Adopts thy tones, and carries all before her.
"From thee the roaring Bacchanalian crew,
In many a tavern round the Garden known,
Learn richer blackguard than they ever knew:
They catch thy look,--they copy every tone;
They ape the brazen honours of thy face,
And push the jorum with a double grace.
"Thee from his box the macaroni eyes;
With levell'd tube he takes his distant stand,
Trembling beholds the horrid storm arise,
And feels for reinhold when you raise your hand;
At distance he enjoys the boisterous scene,
And thanks his God the pit is plac'd between.
"So, 'midst the starry honours of the night,
The sage explores a comet's fiery course;
Fearful he views its wild eccentric flight,
And shudders at its overwhelming force:
At distance safe he marks the glaring ray,
Thankful his world is not within its way.
"Proceed then, Catley, in thy great career,
And nightly let our maidens hear and see,
The sweetest voice disgust the listening ear,
The sweetest form assume deformity:
Thus shalt thou arm them with their best defence,
And teach them modesty by impudence."
[154] The late Lord Orrery was a singularly formal character. Sir
Anthony Branville, in _The Discovery_, was intended for his portrait,
and exhibits a strong likeness. It was sometimes the wish of Mr.
Garrick to play upon the suavity of this old nobleman, and induce him
to contradict himself. This power he exerted very successfully on the
following occasion:--Lord Orrery wrote a letter from Ireland to Mr.
Garrick, requesting that Mossop might be engaged. The request of a
man of rank was, to the manager of Drury Lane, a command, and Mossop
was engaged. When, some months afterwards, the peer came to England,
he took an early opportunity of breakfasting with Mr. Garrick: the
moment he entered the room, he began his favourite subject.
_Orrery._ "David, I congratulate you: I inquire not about the success
of your theatre; with yourself and Mossop, it must be triumphant. The
Percy and the Douglas both in arms, have a right to be confident.
Separate, you were two bright luminaries; united, you are a
constellation--the _Gemini_ of the theatric hemisphere. Excepting
yourself, my dear David, no man that ever trod on tragic ground has
so forcibly exhibited the various passions that agitate, and I may
say agonize, the human mind. He makes that broad stroke at the heart
which, being aimed by the hand of nature, reaches the prince or the
peasant, the peer or the plebeian. He is not the mere player of
fashion; for the player of fashion, David, may be compared to a man
tossed in a blanket: the very instant his supporters quit their hold
of the coverlet, down drops the hero of the day. However, as general
assertions do not carry conviction, I will arrange my opinions under
different heads, not doubting your assent to my declarations, which
shall be founded on facts, and built upon experience. First of the
first,--his voice; his voice is the _vox argentea_ of the ancients,
the silver tone, of which so much has been written, but which never
struck upon a modern ear till Mossop spoke,--'then mute attention
reigned.'"
_Garrick._ "Why, my Lord, as to his voice, I must acknowledge
that it is loud enough; the severest critic cannot accuse him of
whispering his part; for, egad, it was so sonorous, that the people
had no occasion to come into the theatre: they used to go to the
pastrycook's shop in Russel Court, and eat their custards, and hear
him as well as if they had been in the orchestra: '_he made the
welkin echo to the sound_.' No one could doubt the goodness of his
lungs, or accuse him of sparing them; but as to--"
_Orrery._ "What! you have found out that he roars! you have
discovered that he bellows!--Upon my soul, David, you are right;
he bellows like a bull. We used to call him 'Bull Mossop'--'Mossop
the Bull;'--we had no better name for him in the country. But then,
David, his eye is an eye of fire; and when he looks, he looks
unutterable things: it is scarce necessary that he should speak, for
his eye conveys everything that he means, and excepting your own,
David, is the brightest, most expressive, most speaking eye, that
ever beamed in a--"
_Garrick._ "Why, my Lord, with the utmost submission to your
Lordship, from whose accurate taste and comprehensive judgment I
tremble to differ,--does not your Lordship think there is a--a--a
dull kind of heaviness,--a blanket, a--"
_Orrery._ "What! you have discovered that he is blind?--Egad, David,
whatever his eye may be, nothing can escape yours. He is as blind
as a beetle. There is an opacity, a stare without sight, a sort of
filminess, exactly as you describe. But, notwithstanding I allow that
he bellows like a bull, and is blind as a beetle, his memory has such
peculiar tenacity, that whatever he once receives adheres to it like
glue! he does not forget a syllable of his part."
_Garrick._ "Upon my honour, my Lord, if his memory was what you
describe in Ireland, he must have forgot to bring it with him to
London; for here, the prompter is obliged to repeat every sentence,
and a whole sentence he cannot retain: there is absolutely a
necessity for splitting it into parts."
_Orrery._ "What! you have found that his head runs out. Upon my soul,
it never would hold anything: Lady Orrery used to call him 'Cullender
Mossop'--Mossop the Cullender:' the fellow could not remember a
common distich. But, notwithstanding this, his carriage is so easy,
his air so gentleman-like, his deportment has so much fashion, that
you perceive at a glance he has kept the best company; and no one who
sees him conceives him a player. He looks like one of our house: he
has the port of nobility."
_Garrick._ "As to his port, my Lord, I grant you that the man is
tall, and upright enough; but with submission, the utmost submission
to your Lordship's better judgment, don't you think there is an
awkwardness, a rigid, vulgar, unbending sort of a--a--. We had
fencing masters, dancing masters, and drill sergeants, but all would
not do; he looked more like a tailor than a gentleman."
_Orrery._ "What! you think that he is stiff? By the Lord, David, you
are right,--nothing escapes you: he is stiff--stiff as a poker: we
used to call him 'Poker Mossop;'--we had no better name for him in
the country. But however his body might want (as I must acknowledge
it did) the graceful, easy bend of the Antinous, his mind was formed
of the most yielding and flexible materials: any advice which you
gave him, he would take; from you, I am persuaded, a hint was
sufficient."
_Garrick._ "Why, in this, my Lord, I must be bold enough to differ
from you in the most pointed and positive terms; for of all the
obstinate, headstrong, and unmanageable animals I ever dealt with,
he is the most stubborn, the most untractable, the most wrongheaded.
I never knew one instance where he followed my instructions in any
the smallest degree. If I recommend him to dress a character plain,
he comes upon the stage like a gingerbread king; if I advise him
to be splendid in his apparel, he endeavours to get a Quaker's
habit from the keeper of our wardrobe; and in everything, he--more
than I thought belonged to human nature--had that impenetrable,
that--that--that--"
_Orrery._ "So!--you think him obstinate? Upon my soul he is--as
obstinate as a pig; he has more of that animal's pertinacity than any
man I ever knew in my life. But yet, David, with all these faults, he
is--I have not time to enter into particulars.--Be what he will, you
have engaged him? I sincerely wish you may agree together, and am,
my dear fellow, your most obedient. Say no more.--Farewell.--To Mrs.
Garrick present my compliments."
[155] In an ode to the memory of Le-Stue, cook to the late Duke of
Newcastle, this was whimsically parodied by a Mr. Shaw, the writer of
a monody addressed to Lord Lyttleton:
"When Philip's fam'd, all-conquering son,
Had every blood-stain'd laurel won,
He sigh'd that his creative word,
Like that which rules the skies,
Could not bid other nations rise,
To glut his yet unsated sword.
"But when Le-Stue's unrivall'd spoon,
Like Alexander's sword, with flesh had done,
He heav'd no sigh, he made no moan;
Not limited to human kind,
To fire his wonder-teeming mind,
He rais'd _ragouts_ and _olios_ of his own."
[156] When a gentleman, whose industry and integrity have raised him
to the rank of an Alderman of London, was apprentice, he one Sunday
afternoon took a walk with several of his friends to Islington.
Considering smoking as a manly accomplishment, he put a pipe in his
mouth. A respectable citizen who knew his master, meeting him in the
fields, with a grave face accosted him as follows: "How now, Tom!
smoking tobacco! pray who was your teacher? If you mean to be rich,
unlearn it as fast as you can, for I never knew a man worth a guinea
who stuck a pipe in his mouth before he was twenty." "The d--l you
did not," replied the boy, "then I will never smoke another." He
dashed his clay tube to the ground, and adhered to his resolution.
[157] The sign by which this circumstance is intimated was at first
inscribed GOODCHILD and WEST. Some of Mr. Hogarth's city friends
informing him that it was usual for the senior partner's name to
precede, it was altered.
[158] Madame Pompadour, in her remarks on the English taste for
music, says "they are invariably fond of everything that is full in
the mouth."
[159] The inscription must remind every reader of Pope's lines,--
"Where London's column, pointing to the skies,
Like a tall bully rears its head, and lies," etc.
The Duke of Buckingham's epigram on this magnificent pillar is not so
generally known:
"Here stand I,
The Lord knows why;
But if I fall--
Have at ye all!"
[160] To mark the midnight hour, each of the watches is a quarter
after twelve.
[161] This reverend gentleman is said to be intended for Mr. Platell,
once curate of Barnet.
[162] A copy of this figure on a larger scale is engraved by Mr.
Bartolozzi.
[163] The following whimsical notice, written by a believer in
transmigration, was a few years ago sent to several country
gentlemen, accompanied with a request that the contents might, _if
possible_, be communicated to all the fish and fowl, birds and
beasts, in their respective manors:--
"A WARNING TO BIRDS, BEASTS, AND FISHES.
"Bustards, pheasants, woodcocks, widgeons,
Wild-ducks, plovers, snipes, and pigeons;
Every fowl of every sort,
To your native haunts resort.
Turbot, salmon, herring, soles,
Plunge into your native holes.
Bucks, and does, and hares, and fawns,
Speed ye to your native lawns.
Each to your closest covers haste!
Beware! beware the man of taste!
All that can escape, away!
You're surely slaughter'd, if you stay,
For Monday next is Lord Mayor's day."
[164] This scene is laid in the cellar of a house near Water Lane,
Fleet Street, then known by the name of the "Blood Bowl House;" which
curious appellation was given it from the various scenes of riot and
murder which were there perpetrated.
[165] This has been supposed to be intended for the same prostitute
whom we have before seen exhibited in a garret and a night-cellar: I
do not discover the least resemblance.
[166] I have been told that the dealers in perjury at Westminster
Hall, as well as the Old Bailey, consider this little circumstance as
a complete salvo for false swearing.
[167] A solemn exhortation was formerly given to the prisoners
appointed to die at Tyburn, in their way from Newgate. Mr. Robert
Dow, merchant tailor, who died in 1612, left £1, 6s. 8d. yearly for
ever, that the bellman should deliver to the unhappy criminals, as
they went by in the cart, a most pious and awful admonition. An
admonition of the same nature was read in the prison of Newgate the
night before they suffered.
[168] A man that some persons now living may remember by the name of
Tiddy Doll.
[169] Notwithstanding the boasted humanity of our laws, I am told
more criminals are annually executed in this little island than in
all Europe besides.
[170] I believe it was customary to despatch a second pigeon at the
moment the criminal suffered.
[171] Numerous as are the executions, they are not sufficient for the
anatomical students. It is not more than four or five years since
one of those necessary assistants to the art of chirurgery, called
_resurrection men_, being employed in his vocation of stealing a dead
body from a churchyard in the neighbourhood of London, was discovered
by a patrole, and shot in the grave. To prevent his employer being
disappointed of a _subject_, and to show her reverence for that art
which her husband had lost his life in endeavouring to improve, and
save the idle expense of a funeral, his _afflicted widow_, with the
fondness of an Ephesian matron, three days afterwards sold the body
of her murdered lord for sixteen shillings, to the very surgeon in
whose service he had suffered!
[172] When Oliver Cromwell, attended by Thurlow, once went to dine
in the city, the populace rent the air with their gratulations.
"Your highness," said the secretary, "may see by this that you have
the voice of the people as well as the voice of God."--"As to God,"
replied the Protector, "I will not talk about Him here; but for the
people, they would be more noisy, and more joyful too, if you and I
were going to be hanged."
[173] He is somewhat like a porter butt, with a head on it. In the
Straits of Thermopylæ he would have been pressed to death; but
_dead_, he might stop a breach _better than a better man_.
[174] In the second volume of Wood's _Body of Conveyancing_, p. 180,
is a London lease; one of the clauses gives a right to the landlord
and his friends to stand in the balcony during the time of "the shows
or pastimes upon the day commonly called the Lord Mayor's Day."
[175] In the _General Advertiser_ for March 9, 1748-49, it was thus
announced:
"This day is published, price 5s., a Print, designed and engraved by
Mr. Hogarth, representing a PRODIGY which lately appeared before the
gate of Calais,
'O the Roast Beef of Old England!'
"To be had at the Golden Head in Leicester Square, and at the
print-shops."
[176] At this election a man was placed on a bulk, with a figure
representing a _child_ in his arms: as he whipped it, he exclaimed,
"What, _you little child_, must you be a member?" This election being
disputed, it appeared from the register book of the parish where Lord
Castlemain was born, that he was but twenty years of age when he
offered himself a candidate.
* * * * *
_SEASON 1874._
[Illustration]