an eccentric of the same school, but not equally averse to wine;
"'temperance is a bridle of gold; and he who uses it rightly is more
like a god than a man.' I have no objection to a cup of generous wine,
provided nature requires it--but 'simple diet,' says Pliny, 'is best;'
for many dishes bring many diseases. Do you know John Abernethy, sir? he
is the _manus dei_ of my idolatry. 'What ought I to drink?' inquired a
friend of mine of the surgeon. 'What do you give your horse, sir?' was
the question in reply. 'Water.' 'Then drink water,' said Abernethy.
After this my friend was afraid to put the question of eatables, lest
the doctor should have directed him to live on oats. 'Your modern good
fellows,' continued John, 'are only ambitious of rivalling a brewer's
horse; who after all will carry more liquor than the best of them.'
'What is good to assist a weak digestion?' said another patient. 'Weak
food and warm clothing,' was the reply; 'not, ~105~~however, forgetting
my _blue pill_.' When you have dined well, sleep well: wrap yourself up
in a warm watch-coat, and imitate your dog by basking yourself at full
length before the fire; these are a few of the Abernethy maxims for
dyspeptic patients." I had heard much of this celebrated man, and was
desirous of gleaning some more anecdotes of his peculiarities. With
this view I laid siege to Mr. Galen Cornaro, who appeared to be well
acquainted with the whims of the practitioner. "I remember, sir," said
my informant, "a very good fellow of the name of Elliot, a bass-singer
at the concerts and theatres of the metropolis; a man very much
resembling John Abernethy in person, and still more so in manner; one
who under a rough exterior carried as warm a heart as ever throbbed
within the human bosom. Elliot had fallen ill of the jaundice, and
having imbibed a very strong dislike to the name of doctor, whether
musical or medical, refused the solicitations of his friends to receive
a visit from any one of the faculty; to this eccentricity of feeling he
added a predilection for curing every disease of the body by the use of
simples, decoctions, and fomentations extracted from the musty records
of old Culpepper, the English physician. Pursuing this principle, Elliot
every day appeared to grow worse, and drooped like the yellow leaf of
autumn in its sear; until his friends, alarmed for his safety, sent
to Abernethy, determined to take the patient by surprise. Imagine a
robust-formed man, sinking under disease and _ennui_, seated before the
fire, at his side a table covered with phials and pipkins, and near him
his _vade mecum_, the renowned Culpepper. A knock is heard at the
door. 'Come in!' vociferates the invalid, with stentorian lungs yet
unimpaired; and enter John Abernethy, not a little surprised by
the ungraciousness of his reception. 'Who are you?' said Elliot in
thorough-bass, just inclining his head half round to recognize his
visitor, ~106~~without attempting to rise from his seat: Abernethy
appeared astonished, but advancing towards his patient, replied, 'John
Abernethy.'
'Elliot. Oh, the doctor!
'Abernethy. No, not the doctor; but plain John Abernethy, if you please.
'Elliot. Ay, my stupid landlady sent for you, I suppose.
'Abernethy. To attend a very stupid patient, it would appear.
'Elliot. Well, as you are come, I suppose I must give you your fee.
(Placing the gold upon the table.)
'Abernethy (looking rather cross.) What's the matter with you?
'Elliot. Can't you see?
'Abernethy. Oh yes, I see very well; then tasting some of the liquid in
the phials, and observing the source from whence the prescriptions had
been extracted, the surgeon arrived at something that was applicable to
the disease. Who told you to take this?
'Elliot. Common sense.
'Abernethy putting his fee in his pocket, and preparing to depart. Good
day.
'Elliot (reiterating the expression.) Good day! Why, you mean to give me
some advice for my money, don't you?
'Abernethy, with the door in his hand. Follow common sense, and you'll
do very well.'
"Thus ended the interview between Abernethy and Elliot. It was the old
tale of the stammerers personified; for the professional and the patient
each conceived the other an imitator. On reaching the ground-floor
the surgeon was, however, relieved from his embarrassment by the
communication of the good woman of the house, who, in her anxiety to
serve Elliot, had produced this extraordinary scene. Abernethy
laughed heartily--assured her that the patient would do well--wrote a
prescription for him--begged ~107~~he might hear how he proceeded--and
learning he was a professional man, requested the lady of the mansion to
return him his fee."
"Ay," said the alderman, "that was just like John Abernethy. I remember
when he tapped poor Mrs. Marigold for the dropsy, he was not very
tender, to be sure, but he soon put her out of her tortures. And when
on his last visit I offered him a second twenty pound note for a fee, I
thought he would have knocked me down; asked me if I was the fool that
gave him such a sum on a former occasion; threw it back again with
indignation, and said he did not rob people in that manner." No
professional man does more generous actions than John Abernethy; only it
must be after his own fashion.
"Come, gentlemen, the bottle stands still," said Mr. Pendragon, "while
you are running through the merits of drinking. Does not Rabelais
contend that good wine is the best physic?' because there are more old
tipplers than old physicians.' Custom is every thing; only get well
seasoned at the first start, and all the rest of life is a summer's
scene. Snymdiris the
Sybarite never once saw the sun rise or set during a course of twenty
years; yet he lived to a good old age, drank like a centaur, and never
went to bed sober."
And when his glass was out, he fell Like some ripe kernel from its
shell.
"I was once an anti-gastronomist and a rigid antisaccharinite; sugar and
milk were banished from my breakfast-table, vegetables and puddings
my only diet, until I almost ceased to vegetate, and my cranium was
considered as soft as a custard; and curst hard it was to cast off all
culinary pleasures, sweet reminiscences of my infancy, commencing with
our first spoonful of pap, for all young protestants are papists; to
this day my heart (like Wordsworth's) ~108~~overflows at the sight of
a pap-boat--the boat a child first mans; to speak naughty-cally, as
a nurse would say, how many a row is there in the pap-boat--how many
squalls attend it when first it comes into contact with the skull! But I
am now grown corpulent; in those days I was a lighter-man, and I believe
I should have continued to live (exist) upon herbs and roots; but Dr.
Kitchener rooted up all my prejudices, and overturned the whole system
of my theory by practical illustrations.
"Thus he that's wealthy, if he's wise,
Commands an earthly paradise;
That happy station nowhere found,
But where the glass goes freely round.
Then give us wine, to drown the cares
Of life in our declining years,
That we may gain, if Heav'n think fitting,
By drinking, what was lost by eating:
For though mankind for that offence
Were doom'd to labour ever since,
Yet Mercy has the grape impower'd
To sweeten what the apple sour'd."
To this good-humoured sally of Pendragon succeeded a long dissertation
on meats, which it is not _meet_ I should relate, being for the most
part idle conceits of Mr. Galen Cornaro, who carried about him a long
list of those prescribed eatables, which engender bile, breed the
_incubus_, and produce spleen, until, according to his bill of fare, he
had left himself nothing to subsist upon in this land of plenty but a
mutton-chop, or a beef-steak. What pleased me most was, that with every
fresh bottle the two disciples of Pythagoras and Abernethy became still
more vehement in maintaining the necessity for a strict adherence to
the theory of water and vegetable economy; while their zeal had so far
blinded their recollection, that when the ladies returned from their
walk to join us at tea, they were both "_bacchi plenis_," as Colman has
it, something inclining from ~109~~a right line, and approaching in its
motion to serpentine sinuosities. A few more puns from Mr. Pendragon,
and another story from the alderman, about his friend, young Tattersall,
employing Scroggins the bruiser, disguised as a countryman to beat an
impudent Highgate toll-keeper, who had grossly insulted him, finished
the amusements of the day, which Mrs. Marigold and Miss Biddy declared
had been spent most delightfully, so rural and entertaining, and withal
so economical, that the alderman was induced to promise he would not
dine at home again of a Sunday for the rest of the summer. To me,
at least, it afforded the charm of novelty; and if to my readers it
communicates something of character, blended with pleasure in the
perusal, I shall not regret my Sunday trip with the Marigold family and
first visit to the
GATE HOUSE, HIGHGATE.
[Illustration: page109]
THE STOCK EXCHANGE.
~110~~
Have you ever seen Donnybrook fair?
Or in a _caveau_ spent the night?
On Waterloo's plains did you dare
To engage in the terrific fight?
Has your penchant for life ever led
You to visit the Finish or Slums,
At the risk of your pockets and head?
Or in Banco been fixed by the bums?
In a smash at the hells have you been,
When pigeons were pluck'd by the bone?
Or enjoy'd the magnificent scene
When our fourth George ascended his throne?
Have you ever heard Tierney or Canning
A Commons' division address?
Or when to the gallery ganging,
Been floor'd by a rush from the press?
Has your taste for the fine arte impell'd
You to visit a bull-bait or fight?
Or by rattles and charleys propell'd,
In a watch-house been lodged for the night?
In a morning at Bow-street made one
Of a group just to bother sage Birnie?
Stood the racket, got fined, cut and run,
Being fleeced by the watch and attorney?
Or say, have you dined in Guildhall
With the mayor and his corporate souls?
Or been squeezed at a grand civic ball,
With dealers in tallow and coals?
Mere nothings are these, though the range
Through all we have noticed you've been,
When compared to the famed Stock Exchange,
That riotous gambling scene.
~111~~
The unexpected Legacy--Bernard Blackmantle and Bob Transit
visit Capel Court--Characters in the Stocks--Bulls, Bears
and Bawds, Brokers, Jews and Jobbers--A new Acquaintance,
Peter Principal--His Account of the Market--The Royal
Exchange--Tricks upon Travellers--Slating a Stranger--The
Hebrew Star and his Satellites--Dividend Hunters and
Paragraph Writers--The New Bubble Companies--Project
Extraordinary--Prospectus in Rhyme of the Life, Death,
Burial, and Resurrection Company--Lingual Localisms of the
Stock Exchange explained--The Art and Mystery of Jobbing
exposed--Anecdotes of the House and its Members--Flying a
Tile--Billy Wright's Brown Pony--Selling a Twister--A Peep
into Botany Bay--Flats and Flat-catchers--The Rotunda and
the Transfer Men--How to work the Telegraph--Create a Rise--
Put on the Pot--Bang down the Market--And waddle out a Lame
Duck.
A bequest of five hundred pounds by codicil from a rich old aunt had
most unexpectedly fallen to my friend Transit, who, quite unprepared for
such an overwhelming increase of good fortune, was pondering on the
best means of applying this sudden acquisition of capital, when I
accidentally paid him a visit in Half-moon Street. "Give me joy,
Bernard," said Bob; "here's a windfall;" thrusting the official notice
into my hand; "five hundred pounds from an old female miser, who during
her lifetime was never known to dispense five farthings for any generous
or charitable purpose; but being about to _slip her wind_ and make a
_wind-up_ of her accounts, was kind enough to remember at parting that
she had a poor relation, an ~112~~artist, to whom such a sum might prove
serviceable, so just hooked me on to the tail end of her testamentary
document and booked me this legacy, before she booked herself inside for
the other world. And now, my dear Bernard," continued Bob, "you are a
man of the world, one who knows
'What's what, and that's as high
As metaphysic wit can fly.'
I am puzzled, actually bewildered what to do with this accumulation of
wealth: only consider an eccentric artist with five hundred pounds
in his pocket; why it must prove his death-warrant, unless immediate
measures are taken to free him from its magical influence. Shall I
embark it in some of the new speculations? the Milk company, or
the Water company, the Flesh, Fish, or Fowl companies, railways or
tunnel-ways, or in short, only put me in the right way, for, at present,
I am mightily abroad in that respect." "Then my advice is, that you keep
your money at home, or in other words, fund it; unless you wish to be
made fun of and laughed at for a milksop, or a bubble merchant, or be
taken for one of the Gudgeon family, or a chicken butcher, a member
of the Poultry company, where fowl dealing is considered all fair; or
become a liveryman of the worshipful company of minors (i.e. miners),
where you may be fleeced a la Hayne, by legs, lawyers, bankers and
brokers, demireps and contractors'; or, perhaps, you ~113~~will
feel disposed to embark in a new company, of which I have just strung
together a prospectus in rhyme: a speculation which has, at least, much
of novelty in this country to recommend it, and equally interests all
orders of society.
1 It is not surprising, we see, that lawyers, bankers, and
brokers are found at the bottom of most of the new schemes.
Their profits are certain, whatever the fate of the Gudgeon
family. The brokers, in particular, have a fine harvest of
it. Their charges being upon the full nominal amount of the
shares sold, they get twice as much by transferring a single
100L. share in a speculation, although only 1L. may have
been paid on it, as by the purchase or sale of 100L.
consols, of which the price is 94L. Or, to make the matter
plainer to the uninitiated, suppose an individual wishes to
lay out 500L. in the stock-market. If he orders his broker
to purchase into the British funds, the latter will buy him
about 535L. three per cent, consols; and the
brokerage, at one-eighth per cent, will be about 13s. But
if the same person desires to invest the same sum in the
stock of a new Mine or Rail-road company, which is divided
into 100L. shares, on each of which say 1L. is paid, and
there is a premium of 1L. (as is the case at this moment
with a stock we have in our eye) his broker's account will
then stand thus:--
Bought 250 shares in the ---- Company.
First instalment of 1L. paid L250 0 0
Premium L. per share 250 0 0
500 0 0
Brokerage L per cent, on 25,000L. stock 62 10 0
562 10 0
Which will leave Mr. Adventurer to pay 62L. 10s. to his
broker, and to pay 99L. more on each of his 250 shares, when
the------company "call" for it!
Or, let us reverso the case, and suppose our speculator,
having been an original subscriber for 100 shares in the
---- company, and having consequently obtained them for
nothing, wishes to sell, finding them at a premium of 6s.
per share, and either fearing they may go lower, or not
being able to pay even the first instalment called for by
the directors. If he is an humble tradesman, he is perhaps
eager to realise a profit obtained without labour, and hugs
him-self at the idea of the hundred crowns and the hundred
shillings he shall put into his pocket by this pleasant
process. Away he posts to Cornhill, searches out a broker,
into whose hands he puts the letter entitling him to the 100
shares, with directions to sell at the current premium. The
broker takes a turn round 'Change, finds a customer, and the
whole affair is settled in a twinkling, by an entry or two
in the broker's memorandum-book, and the drawing of a couple
of cheques. Our fortunate speculator, who is anxiously
waiting at Batson's the return of his man of business, and
spending perhaps 3s. 6d. in bad negus and tough sandwiches,
on the strength of his good luck, is then presented with a
draft on a banker for 5L. neatly folded up in a small slip
of foolscap, containing the following satisfactory
particulars:--
Sold 100 shares in the------company--nothing paid--prem. 6s. L30
Brokerage, 1/4 per cent, on 10,000L. stock 25
By cheque 5
He stares wildly at this document, utterly speechless, for
five minutes, during which the broker, after saying he shall
be happy to "do" for him another time, throws a card on the
table, and exit. The lucky speculator wanders into 'Change
with the account in his hand, and appeals to several Jews to
know whether he has not been cheated: some abuse him for the
insinuation against so "respectable" a man as Mr.----- the
broker; others laugh in his face; and all together hustle
him into the street. He goes home richer by 4L.. 16s. 6d.
than when he went out, and finds that a wealthy customer,
having called three times in his absence to give him a
particular order, had just left the shop in a rage, swearing
he would no longer encourage so inattentive a tradesman.--
_Examiner_.
THE LIFE, DEATH, BURIAL, AND RESURRECTION COMPANY.
CAPITAL.--ONE HUNDRED MILLIONS SHARES.--ONE POUND.
~115~~
In this age of projectors, when bubbles are spread
With illusive attractions to bother each head,
When bulls, bears, jews, and jobbers all quit Capelcourt
To become speculators and join in the sport,
Who can wonder, when interest with intellect clashes,
We should have a new club to dispose of our ashes;
To rob death of its terrors, and make it delightful
To give up your breath, and abolish the frightful
Old custom of lying defunct in your shroud,
Surrounded by relatives sobbing aloud?
We've a scheme that shall mingle the "grave with the gay,"
And make it quite pleasant to die, when you may.
First, then, we propose with the graces of art,
Like our Parisian friends, to make ev'ry tomb smart;
And, by changing the feelings of funeral terrors,
Remove what remain'd of old Catholic errors.
Our plan is to blend in the picturesque style
Smirke, Soane, Nash, and Wyatville all in one pile.
So novel, agreeable, and grateful our scheme,
That death will appear like a sweet summer's dream;
And the horrid idea of a gloomy, cold cell,
Will vanish like vapours of mist from a dell.
~116
Thus changed, who'll object a kind friend to inhume,
When his sepulchre's made like a gay drawing-room 1
A diversified, soothing commixture of trees,
Umbrageous and fann'd by the perfumed breeze;
With alcoves, and bowers, and fish-ponds, and shrubs,
Select, as in life, from intrusion of scrubs;
While o'er your last relics the violet-turf press
Must a flattering promise afford of success.
"Lie light on him, earth," sung a poet of old;
Our earth shall be sifted, and never grow cold;
No rude weight on your chest--how like ye our scheme {1}
Where your grave will be warm'd by a process of steam,
Which will boil all the worms and the grubs in their holes,
And preserve from decay ev'ry part but your souls.
Our cemetery, centred in fancy's domain,
Shall by a state edict eternal remain
To all parties open, the living or dead;
Or christian, or atheist, here rest their head,
In a picturesque garden, and deep shady grove,
Where young love smiles, and fashion delighteth to rove.
To render the visitors' comforts complete,
And afford the grieved mourners a proper retreat,
The directors intend to erect an hotel,
Where a _table d'hote_ will be furnished well;
Not with the "cold meats of a funeral feast,"
But a banquet that's worthy a nabob at least;
Of _lachryma christi_, and fine _vin de grave_,
And cordial compounds, a choice you may have.
Twice a week 'tis proposed to illumine the scene,
And to waltz and quadrille on the velvety green;
While Colinet's band and the Opera Corps
Play and dance with a spirit that's quite _con amore_,
A committee of taste will superintend
The designs and inscriptions to each latter end.
~117~~
Take notice, no cross-bones or skulls are allowed,
Or naked young cherubims riding a cloud;
In short, no allusions that savour of death,
Nor aught that reminds of a friend's parting breath.
The inscriptions and epitaphs, elegies too,
Must all be poetical, lively, and new;
Such as never were heard of, or seen heretofore,
To be written by Proctor, Sam. Rogers, or Moore.
In lieu of a sermon, glee-singers attend,
Who will chant, like the cherubims, praise without end.
Three decent old women, to enliven the hours,
Attend with gay garlands and sacred flowers,
The emblems of grief--artificial, 'tis true,
But very like nature in a general view.
Lord Graves will preside, and vice-president Coffin
Will pilot the public into the offing.
The College of Surgeons and Humane Society
Have promised to send a delightful variety.
The Visitors all are physicians of fame;
And success we may, therefore, dead certainty name.
To the delicate nervous, who'd wish a snug spot,
A romantic temple, or moss-cover'd grot,
Let them haste to John Ebers, and look at the plan;
Where the grave-book lies open, its merits to scan.
Gloves, hatbands, and essence of onions for crying,
White 'kerchiefs and snuff, and a cordial worth trying,
The attendants have ready; and more--as time presses,
No objection to bury you in fancy dresses.
Our last proposition may frighten you much;
We propose to reanimate all by a touch,
By magic revive, if a century old,
The bones of a father, a friend, or a scold.
In short, we intend, for all--but a wife,
To bring whom you please in a moment to life;
That is, if the shares in our company rise,--
If not 'tis a bubble, like others, of lies.
--Bernard Blackmantle.
~118~~The recitation of this original _jeu d'esprit_ had, I found, the
salutary effect of clearing my friend Transit's vision in respect to
the _speculation mania_; and being by this time fully accoutred and
furnished with the possibles, we sallied forth to make a purchase in the
public funds. There is something to be gleaned from every event in this
life, particularly by the eccentric who is in search of characteristic
matter. I had recently been introduced to a worthy but singular
personage in the city, Mr. Peter Principal, stock broker, of the firm
of Hazard and Co.--a man whose probity was never yet called in question,
and who, having realized a large property by the most honourable means,
was continually selected as broker, trustee, and executor by all his
acquaintance. To him, therefore, I introduced my friend Bob, who being
instantly relieved from all his weighty troubles, and receiving in
return the bank receipts, we proceeded to explore the regions of Pluto
(i.e. the money market), attended by Peter Principal as our guide and
instructor. On our entrance into Capel Court we were assailed by a
motley group of Jews and Gentiles, inhabitants of Lower Tartary (i.e.
Botany Bay{2}), who, suspecting we came there on business, addressed
us in a jargon that was completely unintelligible either to Transit or
myself. One fellow inquired if I was a bull,{3} and his companion wished
to know if Transit was a bear{4}; another eagerly offered to give us
_five eighths_, or sell us, at the same price, for the account'{5};
while a fourth thrust his
2 A place so named, without the Stock Exchange, where the
lame ducks and fallen angels of Upper Tartary assemble when
expelled the house, to catch a hint how the puff's and bangs
succeed in the private gambling market; when if they can
saddle their neighbour before he is up to the variation, it
is thought good jobbing.
3 Persons that purchase with a view for a rise in the
funds.
4 One who sells with a view to a fall in the price of stock.
5 A certain future day, fixed upon by the Committee of the
Stock Exchange, for the settlement of _time bargains_--they
are usually appointed at an interval of six weeks, and the
price of stocks on this given day determines the
speculator's gain or loss.
~119~~copper countenance into my face, and offered to do business with
me at a fiddle.{6} "Tush, tush," said Peter Principal to the increasing
multitude which now barred our passage, "we are only come to take a
look, and watch the operation of the market." "_Dividend hunters_{7}
I suppose," said a knowing looking fellow, sarcastically, "ear
wigging{8}--Hey, Mr. Principal, something good for the pull out{9}?
Well, if the gentlemen wish to put on the pot, although it be for a
pony,{10} I'm their man, only a little rasping,{11} you know." To this
eloquent appeal succeeded a similar application from a son of Israel,
who offered to accommodate us in any way we wished, either for the
_call_{l2} or _put_{13}; to which friendly offer little Principal put
his direct negative, and, after innumerable
6 When a broker has got money transactions of any conse-
sequence, as there is no risk in these cases, he will fiddle
one finger across the other, signifying by this that the
jobber must give up half the turn of the market price to
him, which he pockets besides his commission.
7 Those who suppose by changing stock they get double
interest, by receiving four dividends in one year instead of
two; but in this they are deceived, as the jobber, when he
changes stock, gains the advantage; for instance, if he buys
consols at sixty, when he sells out there will be deducted
one and a half per cent. for the dividend.
8 When bargains are done privately by a whisper, to conceal
the party's being a bull.
9 Buying or selling for ready money.
10 Pony, 25,000L.
11 Giving greater turns to the jobbers than those regulated
in the market.
12 _Call_. Buying to call more at one-eighth or one-fourth
above the price on a certain day, if the buyer chooses, and
the price is in his favour.
13 _Put_. Selling to put more to it on a certain day, at
one-eighth or one-fourth under the market price.
~120~~attacks of this sort, we reached the upper end of the court,
and found ourselves upon the steps which lead to the regions of Upper
Tartary, (i.e.) the Stock Exchange. At this moment our friend Principal
was summoned by his clerk to attend some antique spinster, who, having
scraped together another hundred, had hobbled down to annex it to her
previous amount of consols. "You must not attempt to enter the room
by yourselves," said Principal; "but accompany me back to the Royal
Exchange, where you can walk and wait until I have completed the old
lady's _job_." While Principal was gone to invest his customer's stock,
we amused ourselves with observing the strange variety of character
which every where presents itself among the groups of all nations who
congregate together in this arena of commerce. Perhaps a more fortunate
moment for such a purpose could not have occurred: the speculative
transactions of the times had drawn forth a certain portion of the
Stock Exchange, gamblers, or inhabitants of Upper Tartary, who, like
experienced sharpers of another description, never suffer a good
thing to escape them. Capel Court was partially abandoned for exchange
bubbles,{14} and new companies opened a new system of fraudulent
enrichment for these sharks of the money market.