impression on Mrs. Lewson; believing her own time had come, she became
weak, took to her bed, refused medical aid, and on Tuesday, the 28th of
May, 1816, died at her house in Cold Bath Square, at the age of 116;
she was interred in Bunhill Fields burying-ground. "At her death,"
says Mr. Warner, in his MS. _Notes on Clerkenwell_, "I went over the
house, and was struck with astonishment at the number of bars, bolts,
&c., to the whole of the doors and windows; the ceilings of the upper
floor were completely lined with strong boards, braced together with
iron bars, to prevent any one getting into the house from the roof. The
ashes had not been removed for many years; they were neatly piled up,
as if formed into beds for some particular purpose, around the yard.
Her furniture, &c., were sold by auction, and persons were admitted to
view by producing a catalogue, which was sold at sixpence, and would
permit any number of persons at one time."[10]
[10] Pinks's _History of Clerkenwell_, 1865, p. 115.
Profits of Dust-sifting, and Dust-heaps.
Many years ago a _dust-sifter_, named Mary Collins, residing in Bell
Street, Lisson Grove, was robbed by a nurse, when her evidence before
the police magistrate was remarkable for the extraordinary disclosures
it incidentally afforded of the large profits obtained from the
apparently humble vocation of dust-sifting. The articles stolen were in
a pocket, and were thus described: one coral necklace, large beads; one
ditto, with pearl clasp; several handsome brooches; five gold seals;
some gold rings; several gold shirt-pins; a quantity of loose beads;
broken bits of gold and silver, &c. Mr. Rawlinson, the magistrate,
expressed his surprise at her having such a motley assortment of
valuables. Complainant: Your worship, we find them amongst the
dust.--Mr. Rawlinson: Indeed! what, all these articles?--Complainant:
Oh, your worship, that's nothing; we find many more things than them:
we find almost every small article that can be mentioned. We are
employed by the dust contractor, who allows us 8_d._ per load for
sifting, besides which we have all the spoons and other articles which
we may find amongst the dust.--Mr. Rawlinson: That is dustman's law,
I suppose: but pray how many silver spoons may you find in the course
of the year?--Complainant: It is impossible to say: sometimes more and
sometimes less.
Mr. Rawlinson declared that what she had just related was quite
novel to him. The urbane manner of the worthy magistrate won upon
the old lady and made her quite communicative. She had followed her
occupation eight years, and what with the "perquisites" (_id est_,
articles found), and the savings from "hard labour," she had realized
sufficient money to think about house-building, and had then a house
erecting which she expected would cost her at least 300_l._ She had
deposited 100_l._ in the hands of her employer, in part payment, and as
a proof that all was not vaunting, she produced her box, in which were
thirty-nine sovereigns, two five-pound bank-notes, and several guineas
and half-sovereigns.
Early in the present century, the spot of ground on which now stands
Argyle Street, Liverpool Street, Manchester Street, and the corner of
Gray's Inn Road, was covered with a mountain of filth and cinders, the
accumulation of many years, and which afforded food for hundreds of
pigs. The Russians bought the whole of the ash-heap, and shipped it to
Moscow, to be used in rebuilding that city after it had been burned
by the French. The Battle-bridge dustmen had a certain celebrity in
their day. The ground on which the dust-heap stood was sold in 1826
to the Pandemonium Company for fifteen thousand pounds; they walled
in the whole, and built a theatre, which now remains at the corner of
Liverpool Street. The Company's scheme was, however, abandoned, and
the ground was let on building leases. The heap is mentioned in the
burlesque song, _Adam Bell, the Literary Dustman:_[11]
You recollect the cinder heap,
Vot stood in Gray's Inn Lane, sirs?
[11] Pinks's _History of Clerkenwell_, p. 501.
When the street now called the Caledonian Road was in the fields,
there was at the Battle-bridge end of the road a large accumulation
of horse-bones, which were stored there by some horse-slaughterers.
And in 1833, Battle-bridge was described in the _New Monthly Magazine_
as "the grand centre of dustmen, scavengers, horse and dog dealers,
knackermen, brickmakers, and other low but necessary professionalists."
The dust-heap is described as "that sublime, sifted wonder of cockneys,
the cloud-kissing dust-heap which sold for twenty thousand pounds;" but
this is doubtful.
Mr. T. C. Noble has communicated to Pinks's _History of Clerkenwell_
the following particulars of the Dust and Cinder Heap, &c.--"The estate
at Battle-bridge comprised from seventeen to twenty acres. Of this
my grandfather took sixteen small dilapidated houses, and _the dust
and cinder heap_, which, it was said, had been _existing on the spot
since the Great Fire of London_. He gave about 500_l._ for the lot,
although the parties wanted 800_l._ Bricks were then very scarce, so
he very soon realized a good sum for the old buildings, while Russia,
hearing in some way of this enormous dust-heap, purchased it for
purposes in rebuilding Moscow. The site of the mountain of dust is now
covered by the houses of Derby Street, and I may add, the names of the
thoroughfares erected on this estate were derived from the popular
ministers of that day. The rental derived from the property by my
grandfather exceeded 1,000_l._ a year."
John Thomas Smith gives the following notes upon oddities of the above
class:--"Within my time many men have indulged most ridiculously in
their eccentricities. I have known one who had made a pretty large
fortune in business get up at four o'clock in the morning and walk the
streets to pick up horse-shoes which had been slipped in the course
of the night, with no other motive than to see how many he could
accumulate in the course of a year. I also remember a rich soap-boiler
who never missed an opportunity of pocketing nails, pieces of iron
hoops, and bits of leather in his daily walks; and these he would
spread upon a large walnut-tree three-flapped dining-table, with a
similar view to that of the horse-shoe collector. This wealthy citizen
would often put on a red woollen cap and a waggoner's frock, in order
to stoke his own furnace; after which he would dress, get into his
coach, and, attended by tall servants in bright blue liveries, drive to
his villa, where his hungry friends were waiting his arrival."
Sir John Dinely, Bart.
This eccentric baronet, of the family of the Dinelys, of Charlton,
descended by the female line from the Royal House of Plantagenet,
having dissipated the wreck of the family estates, obtained the
pension and situation of a poor knight of Windsor. His chief
occupation consisted in advertising for a wife, and nearly thirty
years were passed in assignations to meet the fair respondents to his
advertisements. His figure was truly grotesque: in wet weather he was
mounted on a high pair of pattens; he wore the coat of the Windsor
uniform, with a velvet embroidered waistcoat, satin breeches, silk
stockings, and a full-bottomed wig. In this finery he might be seen
strolling one day; and next out marketing, carrying a penny loaf, a
morsel of butter, a quartern of sugar, and a farthing candle. Twice
or thrice a year he came to London, and visited Vauxhall Gardens
and the theatres. His fortune, if he could recover it, he estimated
at 300,000_l._ He invited the widow as well as the blooming maiden
of sixteen, and addressed them in printed documents, bearing his
signature, in which he specified the sum the ladies must possess; he
expected less property with youth than age or widowhood; adding that
few ladies would be eligible that did not possess at least 10,000_l._ a
year, which, however, was nothing compared to the honour his high birth
and noble descent would confer; the incredulous he referred to Nash's
_Worcestershire_. He addressed his advertisements to "the angelic fair"
from his house in Windsor Castle (one of the poor knight's houses). He
cherished to the last the expectation of forming a connubial connection
with some lady of property, but, alas! he died a bachelor in 1808.[12]
[12] We know an instance of an old Baronet advertising twenty years for
a wife; at last he succeeded in marrying an out-and-out Xantippe.
[Illustration: A well-known character on 'Change. Rothschild.]
The Rothschilds.
In the _Memoirs of Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton_, edited by his son, we
find this amusing letter, dated 1834: "We yesterday dined at Ham House,
to meet the Rothschilds; and very amusing it was. He (Rothschild) told
us his life and adventures. He was the third son of the banker at
Frankfort. 'There was not,' he said, 'room enough for us all in that
city. I dealt in English goods. One great trader came there, who had
the market to himself; he was quite the great man, and did us a favour
if he sold us goods. Somehow I offended him, and he refused to show
me his patterns. This was on a Tuesday; I said to my father, "I will
go to England." I could speak nothing but German. On the Thursday I
started. The nearer I got to England, the cheaper goods were. As soon
as I got to Manchester, I laid out all my money, things were so cheap;
and I made good profit. I soon found that there were three profits--the
raw material, the dyeing, and the manufacturing. I said to the
manufacturer, "I will supply you with material and dye, and you supply
me with manufactured goods." So I got three profits instead of one,
and I could sell goods cheaper than anybody. In a short time I made my
20,000_l._ into 60,000_l._ My success all turned on one maxim. I said,
I can do what another man can, and so I am a match for the man with
the patterns, and for all the rest of them! Another advantage I had.
I was an off-hand man. I made a bargain at once. When I was settled
in London, the East India Company had 800,000 ounces of gold to sell.
I went to the sale, and bought it all. I knew the Duke of Wellington
must have it. I had bought a great many of his bills at a discount. The
Government sent for me, and said they must have it. When they had got
it, they did not know how to get it to Portugal. I undertook all that,
and I sent it through France; and that was the best business I ever
did.'
"Another maxim, on which he seemed to place great reliance, was, never
to have anything to do with an unlucky place or an unlucky man. 'I have
seen,' said he, 'many clever men, very clever men, who had not shoes
to their feet. I never act with them. Their advice sounds very well;
but fate is against them; they cannot get on themselves; and if they
cannot do good to themselves, how can they do good to me?' By aid of
these maxims he has acquired three millions of money. 'I hope,' said
----, 'that your children are not too fond of money and business, to
the exclusion of more important things. I am sure you would not wish
that.'--Rothschild: 'I am sure I should wish that. _I wish them to give
mind, and soul, and heart, and body, and everything to business; that
is the way to be happy_. It requires a great deal of boldness and a
great deal of caution to make a great fortune; and when you have got
it, it requires ten times as much wit to keep it. If I were to listen
to all the projects proposed to me, I should ruin myself very soon.
Stick to one business, young man,' said he to Edward; 'stick to your
brewery, and you may be the great brewer of London. Be a brewer, and a
banker, and a merchant, and a manufacturer, and you will soon be in the
_Gazette_.
"'One of my neighbours is a very ill-tempered man; he tries to vex me,
and has built a great place for swine close to my walk. So, when I go
out, I hear, first grunt, grunt, squeak, squeak; but this does me no
harm. I am always in good humour. Sometimes to amuse myself I give a
beggar a guinea. He thinks it is a mistake, and for fear I should find
it out, off he runs as hard as he can. I advise you to give a beggar a
guinea sometimes, it is very amusing.' The daughters are very pleasing.
The second son is a mighty hunter, and his father lets him buy any
horses he likes. He lately applied to the Emperor of Morocco for a
first-rate Arab horse. The Emperor sent him a magnificent one; but he
died as he landed in England. The poor youth said very feelingly, 'that
was the greatest misfortune he ever had suffered;' and I felt strong
sympathy with him. I forgot to say, that soon after Mr. Rothschild came
to England, Bonaparte invaded Germany. 'The Prince of Hesse Cassel,'
said Rothschild, 'gave my father his money; there was no time to be
lost; he sent it to me. I had 600,000_l._ arrive unexpectedly by the
post; and I put it to such good use, that the Prince made me a present
of all his wine and his linen.'"
A Legacy of Half a Million of Money.
On the 30th of August, 1852, there died at Chelsea John Camden Neild,
a wealthy gentleman, who had bequeathed an immense legacy to Queen
Victoria. His father was a native of Knutsford, in Cheshire; as a
goldsmith in London he made a large fortune. He was a truly benevolent
man, especially in his efforts for the improvement of prisons, and
originated the Society for the Relief of Persons imprisoned for Small
Debts. He married the daughter of John Camden, Esq., of Battersea, in
Surrey, a direct descendant of the great antiquary of the same name. He
died in 1814, and was buried at Chelsea.
John Camden Neild, the only surviving son of the above, was born in
1780; educated at Trinity College, Cambridge, studied at Lincoln's
Inn, and in 1808 was called to the bar. In 1814 he succeeded to the
whole of his father's property, estimated at 250,000_l._; but he made
a very different use of his wealth. Avarice was his ruling passion; he
became a confirmed miser, and for the last thirty years of his life
gave himself over to heaping up riches. He lived in a large but meanly
furnished house in Cheyne Walk, Chelsea; and he slept on a bare board,
and latterly on an old stump bedstead, on which he died. His favourite
companion was a large black cat, which was in his chamber when he
breathed his last.
He had considerable property at North Marston, in Buckinghamshire, and
here he often stayed for days together, besides his half-yearly visits
to receive rents. As lessee of the rectory, it was incumbent on him to
repair the chancel of the church; the leaded roof having become full
of fissures, he had them covered with strips of painted calico, saying
they would "last his time." During this odd repair, he sat all day on
the roof, to keep the workmen employed and even ate his dinner there,
which consisted of hard-boiled eggs, dry bread, and buttermilk.
His dress was an old-fashioned swallow-tailed coat, brown trousers,
short gaiters, and shoes which were generally patched and down at the
heels. His stockings and linen were generally full of holes; but when
he stayed a night at a tenant's, the mistress often mended them while
he was in bed. He was short and punchy in figure, scarcely above five
feet in height, with a large round and short neck. He always carried
an old green cotton umbrella, but never wore a great coat, which he
considered too extravagant for his slender means. He travelled outside
a coach, where his fellow-travellers took him for a decayed gentleman
in extreme poverty. Once, when visiting his Kentish property on a
bitterly cold day, the coach stopped at Farningham, where the other
passengers subscribed for a glass of brandy-and-water, which they sent
to the poor gentleman, in pity for their thinly-clad companion who
still sat on the coach-roof, while they were by the inn fireside.
He often took long journeys on foot, when he would avail himself of any
proffered "lift," and he was even known to sit on a load of coal, to
enable him to proceed a little further without expense; yet he would
give the driver a penny or two for the accommodation; for, miser as he
was, he never liked to receive anything without paying for it--however
small the scale; nor would he partake of any meal or refreshment when
asked by the clergymen of the parishes where his estates lay. Yet with
tenants of a lower grade he would share the coarse meals and lodging
of the family. At North Marston he used to reside with the tenant on
the rectory farm; while staying here, about 1828, he attempted to cut
his throat, but his life was saved chiefly by the prompt assistance of
the tenant's wife. This attempt was supposed to have been caused by a
sudden fall in the funds, in which he had just made a large investment.
Sometimes he would eat his dinner at a tenant's, where he would beg a
basin of milk, and buy three eggs for a penny, get them hard-boiled,
and eat two for his dinner, with another basin of milk; the third egg
he would save for next morning's breakfast. He used to examine minutely
the nature of his land, and keep an account of the number of trees on
his estates: he had been known to walk from twelve to fifteen miles to
count only a few trees.
Mr. Neild's general answer to all applications for charitable
contributions was a refusal; in some instances it was otherwise. He
once, but only once, gave a pound for the Sunday-school at North
Marston; he promised 300_l._ towards building an infirmary for
Buckinghamshire, but withheld it from an objection to the site.
Mr. Neild was not, as stated at the time of his death, "a frigid,
spiritless specimen of humanity," for he possessed considerable
knowledge in legal and general literature and the classics. Nor did
he entirely pass over merit. Finding the son of one of his tenants
to possess strong natural abilities, he paid wholly or in part the
expenses of his school and college education. This person is now a
distinguished scholar and a dignitary of the Church of England.
Mr. Neild was buried on the 16th of September, according to his
own desire, in the chancel of North Marston Church. His will then
necessarily came to light, and great was the sensation which it
occasioned. After bequeathing a few trifling legacies to different
persons, he left the whole of his vast property, estimated at
500,000_l._, to "Her Most Gracious Majesty Queen Victoria, begging
Her Majesty's most gracious acceptance of the same for her sole use
and benefit, and her heirs, &c." To each of his three executors he
bequeathed 100_l._ The will had excited such curiosity, that, though
his life had passed almost unnoticed, a large concourse of persons
assembled at Chelsea to witness the removal of his body, and the church
and churchyard at North Marston were crowded with wondering--not
lamenting--spectators. Among his tenants, workmen, and the poor of the
parish where he possessed so much property, not a tear was shed, not
a regret uttered, as his body was committed to its last resting-place.
The only remark heard was, "Poor creature! had he known so much would
have been spent on his funeral, he would have come down here to die to
save the expense!"
Two caveats were entered against his will, but were subsequently
withdrawn, and the Queen was left to take undisputed possession of
his property. Her Majesty immediately increased Mr. Neild's bequest
to his three executors to 1,000_l._ each; she provided for his old
housekeeper, to whom he had made no bequest, though she had lived with
him six-and-twenty years; and she secured an annuity to the woman who
had frustrated Mr. Neild's attempt at suicide.
Her Majesty, in 1855, had restored the chancel of North Marston Church,
and inserted an east window of beautifully stained glass, beneath which
is a reredos with this inscription: "This Reredos and the Stained Glass
Window were erected by Her Majesty Queen Victoria (D.G.B.R.F.D.), in
the eighteenth year of her reign, in memory of John Camden Neild, Esq.,
of this parish, who died August 30th, 1852, aged 72."[13]
[13] Condensed from _The Book of Days_, vol. ii. pp. 285-288.
This man of wealth must not be confounded with the Mr. Neeld who came
into possession of great wealth on the demise of his uncle, Philip
Rundell, the wealthy goldsmith of Ludgate Hill. He died in 1827, at the
age of eighty-one; and, according to the _Gentleman's Magazine_, "had
never married, and never kept an establishment, but lived much with one
niece at Brompton, and another, the wife of John Bannister, the eminent
comedian." The eldest son of the latter, on coming of age, was invited
to breakfast with Mr. Rundell, who placed in the young man's hands at
parting a sealed letter, which he was not to open till he reached home.
It was then found to contain a bequest of 10,000_l._, payable on the
death of the donor, and of his own marriage. This incident was related
to Mr. Britton by Mr. Bannister, who also indulged him by repeating
two songs which he had written and sung at Mr. Rundell's, on two
birthdays of the aged goldsmith. Bannister also inherited 5,000_l._ for
his own life, and then to devolve to his daughter; and his son had an
additional legacy from Mr. Rundell. Numerous other large sums of money
were bequeathed to other relatives, friends, and public foundations;
but the most important item in the will is the residuary clause,
whereby the testator "gives to his esteemed friend, Joseph Neeld, the
younger, all the rest of his real and mixed estate, which," says the
magazine, "it is computed will amount to not less than 890,000_l._ The
personal effects were sworn at upwards of 1,000,000_l._, the utmost
limit to which the scale of the probate duty extends."
Eccentricities of the Earl of Bridgewater.
Forty years since there lived in Paris the Rev. Francis Henry Egerton,
Earl of Bridgewater, of whom we find this probably overcharged but
curious account in a Parisian journal of the year 1826; than his
lordship no one has a higher claim to a distinguished place in the
history of human oddities:--"Those who have once seen--nay, those who
have never seen this meagre personage drag himself along, supported
by two huge lacqueys, with his sugar-loaf hat, slouched down over his
eyes, cannot fail to recognize him. An immense fortune enables him
to gratify the most extravagant caprices that ever passed through
the head of a rich Englishman. If he be lent a book, he carries his
politeness so far as to send it back, or rather have it conveyed home,
in a carriage. He gives orders that two of his most stately steeds
be caparisoned under one of his chariots, and the volume, reclining
at ease in _milord's_ landau, arrives, attended by four footmen in
costly livery, at the door of its astounded owner. His carriage is
frequently to be seen filled with his dogs. He bestows great care
on the feet of these dogs, and orders them boots, for which he pays
as dearly as for his own. Lord Bridgewater's custom is an excellent
one for the boot-maker; for, besides the four feet of each of his
dogs, the supply of his own two feet must give constant employment to
several operatives. He puts on a new pair of boots every day, carefully
preserving those he has once worn, and ranging them in order; he
commands that none shall touch them, but takes himself great pleasure
in observing how much of the year has each day passed, by the state of
his boots."
"Lord Egerton is a man of few acquaintance, and very few of his
countrymen have got as far as his dining-hall. His table, however,
is constantly set out with a dozen covers, and served by suitable
attendants. Who, then, are his privileged guests? No less than a dozen
of his favourite dogs, who daily partake of _milord's_ dinner, seated
very gravely in arm-chairs, each with a napkin round his neck, and a
servant behind to attend to his wants. These honourable quadrupeds, as
if grateful for such delicate attentions, comport themselves during
the time of repast with a decency and decorum which would do more
than honour to a party of gentlemen; but if, by any chance, one of
them should, without due consideration, obey the natural instinct of
his appetite, and transgress any of the rules of good manners, his
punishment is at hand. The day following the offence the dog dines,
and even dines well; but not at _milord's_ table; banished to the
ante-chamber, and dressed in livery, he eats in sorrow the bread of
shame, and picks the bone of mortification, while his place at table
remains vacant till his repentance has merited a generous pardon!"
This eccentric nobleman died in February, 1829, and by his will, dated
February 25th, 1825, bequeathed 8,000_l._ for the writing, printing,
and publishing of the well-known _Bridgewater Treatises_.
The Denisons, and the Conyngham Family.