CHAPTER XXIX.

1847 Medals for the Army and Navy--Grenville 307

Library--Day of Fasting--"Binding of

Satan"--Suspension of Transportation--New House of

Lords--Jenny Lind--_Bunn v. Lind_--"Jenny

Linden"--Death of O'Connell--Story of the Duke of

Buccleugh--Abolition of Eton "Montem"

[Picture: Decorative flower]

ILLUSTRATIONS.

[Picture: Decorative flower]

Susannah and the Elders (_Frontispiece_)

Suggested Monument to the Marquis of Waterford 7

Spring-heeled Jack 31

Death of Sir William Courtenay (_Thom_) 48

"Child's Play" 94

The Eglinton Tournament 107

The Mulready Envelope 131

The Mulready Envelope (_H. B. Caricature_) 132

Rebecca and her Daughters 201

"The Gent" 216

Prince Albert's Studio 223

Nelson's Statue 224

M. Jullien 229

Prince Albert, the British Farmer 230

"Repeal" Button 233

O'Connell's Cap 234

Tom Thumb 236

The Stage Polka (_Three Illustrations_) 238

The Drawing Room Polka (_Three Illustrations_) 240-41-42

Barry, the Clown, on the Thames 252

Railway Speculators 262

The March of Speculation 276

Deposit of Railway Plans 282

Sheriffs' Officers 288

The Original Ethiopian Serenaders 289

Lablache, Mario, and Tamburini 291

The Last Post Office Bell-man 297

Wonderful effects of Ether in a case of a 302

Scolding Wife

The Bull Fight of Smithfield 303

Eton "Montem" Costumes 314

[Picture: Decorative flower]

CHAPTER I.

[Picture: Decorative flower]

The Queen's Accession--Proclamation--Funeral of the King--The Queen and

social functions--Mr. Montefiore--Amusing letter--Electric

telegraph--Knocker wrenching--Amusements of the young aristocracy.

King William the Fourth was as sincerely fond of his niece, Alexandrina

Victoria, as he cordially detested her mother, and he earnestly hoped

that she might obtain her majority, which took place on the 24th of May,

1837, before he died, for he had a horror of the Duchess of Kent having

even the shadowy power of a Regent. Greville, in his _Memoirs_, writing

on 23rd of May, says: "The King prayed that he might live till the

Princess Victoria was of age, and he was very nearly dying just as the

event arrived. He is better, but supposed to be in a very precarious

state. There has been a fresh squabble between Windsor and Kensington

about a proposed allowance to the Princess."

The old King lived but a very short time after the desired event, for he

expired at 2.12 on the morning of the 20th of June, 1837, and how the sad

news was broken to the young Sovereign may best be told in the words of

that mine of anecdote, Miss Frances Williams Wynn, the daughter of Sir

Watkin Williams Wynn (the fourth baronet):

"On Monday we were listening all day for the tolling of the bells,

watching whether the guests were going to the Waterloo dinner at

Apsley House. On Tuesday, at 2.30 a.m., the scene closed, and in a

very short time the Archbishop of Canterbury and Lord Conyngham, the

Chamberlain, set out to announce the event to their young Sovereign.

They reached Kensington Palace at about five; they knocked, they

rang, they thumped for a considerable time before they could rouse

the porter at the gates; they were again kept waiting in the

courtyard, then turned into one of the lower rooms, where they seemed

forgotten by everybody. They rang the bell, desiring that the

attendant of the Princess Victoria might be sent to inform H.R.H.

that they requested an audience on business of importance. After

another delay, and another ringing to enquire the cause, the

attendant was summoned, who stated that the _Princess_ was in such a

sweet sleep, she could not venture to disturb her. Then they said,

'We come to the _Queen_ on business of State, and even her sleep must

give way to that.' It did; and, to prove that _she_ did not keep

them waiting, in a few minutes she came into the room in a loose

white night-gown and shawl, her nightcap thrown off, and her hair

falling upon her shoulders, her feet in slippers, tears in her eyes,

but perfectly collected and dignified."

Lord Melbourne was summoned to Kensington Palace by the Queen at 9 a.m.,

and a Privy Council was called for 11 a.m., but the notice was so short

that several of the Privy Councillors had no time to put on their

official costume, and were obliged to attend in undress. Amongst others

who made their appearance at Court in this novel fashion were the Duke of

Cumberland (then, by the fact of the King's death, King of Hanover) and

Lord Glenelg.

The Queen was proclaimed the next day, but there is no need to detail the

ceremony, as we have all experienced a similar scene lately. The

existing ministry was retained, and things settled down in their places,

yet not quite all at once, for _The Western Luminary_, a paper long since

defunct, says, "In one writ which came down to this city, a ludicrous

mistake was made in the date, as follows: 'In the year of Our Lady 1837,'

instead of 'Our Lord.'" And the Royal Arms had to be altered from those

borne by Her Majesty's five predecessors. Being a female, they had to be

borne on a lozenge, instead of a shield; the crest of a lion surmounting

a crown was discontinued, as was also the escutcheon of pretence bearing

the arms of Hanover, surmounted by the crown of that country.

The preparations for the funeral of the late King were at once commenced;

and, in connection therewith, I cannot help quoting from _The Times_'

Windsor Correspondent (28 June): "In the platform erected for the

interment of George IV., there were more than 70,000 superficial feet of

boarding, and 49,000 feet of quartering. The quantity of black cloth

used for covering the floor of, and the roof over, amounted to more than

10,000 yards. I understand that, after the interment, it becomes the

perquisite of the clergy of the chapel, as do, also, many of the

decorative ornaments placed on, and suspended over, the coffin. You

will, perhaps, recollect what some people would willingly have you

forget--I mean the squabbling which occurred respecting the velvet

cushion upon which the coronet of the late Princess Charlotte rested at

her funeral, and the scramble which took place for the real or supposed

baton of the Duke of York, on the occasion of his burial. Care was taken

to prevent the occurrence of any such indecent proceedings at the funeral

of George IV., and, hence, I do not anticipate any such scenes on the

present occasion."

The King was buried with great pomp on the night of the 8th of July, the

Duke of Sussex being chief mourner, and Queen Adelaide occupying the

Royal Closet. At the close of the ceremony, the members of the

procession, who were much fatigued by the toil they had undergone and by

the sultry heat of the chapel, proceeded to quit as quickly and as

quietly as possible, but nothing like order was observed in the return to

the Palace. In fact, it was, for a considerable time, a scene of

indescribable confusion. Arrangements had been made, by orders of the

Earl Marshal, for the places at which the carriages of those who had to

take part in the procession were to set down and take up; but, owing to

the immense number of the carriages, the ignorance of many of the

coachmen as to the prescribed regulations, and the obstinacy of others,

the rules very soon became a dead letter, and every man seemed disposed

to take his own way. This, as might be expected, caused such confusion

that it was long past midnight before anything like order was restored.

There were smashed panels and broken windows in abundance, but no serious

accidents were recorded.

The Queen soon had plenty of business on her hands, and on 30th June she

gave her assent to forty Bills, one of which (a remarkably short one),

the 7 Gul., iv. and i. Vic., c. 23, enacted: "That from and after the

passing of this Act, Judgment shall not be given and awarded against any

Person or Persons convicted of any Offence that such Person or Persons do

stand in, or upon the Pillory." Owing to the recent change in

Sovereigns, there were a few slips in "Her Majesty," and "La Reine le

veult." On the 13th July the Queen and her mother left Kensington Palace

and took up their residence in Buckingham Palace. On the 17th, the Queen

dissolved Parliament in person, dressed in white satin, decorated with

gold and jewels, wearing the Order of the Garter and a rich diadem and

necklace of diamonds. She bore the function remarkably well, although

one evening paper said that "Her emotion was plainly discernible in the

rapid heaving of her bosom, and the brilliancy of her diamond stomacher,

which sparkled out occasionally from the dark recess in which the throne

was placed, like the sun on the swell of the smooth ocean, as the billows

rise and fall"! On the 19th July she held her first levee, and on the

20th her first drawing room.

Having dutifully chronicled the doings of Royalty, let us do the same by

meaner folk. On 24th June, Mr. Moses Montefiore, the celebrated Jewish

philanthropist, who lived over one hundred years, was elected Sheriff of

London, and, on the 9th Nov. following, he received the honour of

Knighthood. He was the first Jew who ever served the office of Sheriff,

or who had been made a Knight, in England.

Of course, there were no Board Schools in those days, and education was

somewhat lax, but it will do no harm to note a piece of orthography,

which will show the standard at which the middle lower class had then

arrived. It is copied from _The Times_ of 29 June, 1837. "(_From an

Evening Paper_)--Last autumn, Mrs. C---, of London, during a visit to ---

House, in the West of Scotland, called one day, along with some other

ladies, in the family carriage, at the Golden Arms Inn, of a sea bathing

place on the coast, and stopped for about an hour. Some time after the

party had returned to D--- House, Mrs. C--- discovered that she had lost

a very fine boa, which she supposed she must have left at the Inn. On

enquiry, no trace of the boa could be found; but, about two months after

Mrs. C---'s return to London, she received a parcel with a boa somewhat

torn, accompanied by the accompanying (_sic_) epistle, which we give as

rather a curiosity of its kind:--

"Golden Arms Inn--29 Oct., 1836.

"Mrs. C---, London,

"MADUM,--I was sorry to heer that when you lost your Bowa in my huse,

that the Bowa was stole by my sarvant lasses; and the sarvants at

D--- House spred a report against my huses karakter, which no person

ever questioned afore. My wiffe, Peggy, was muckle vexed at the

report, and sershed the trunks of all the lasses, but did not find

your Bowa; she fund in Jenny McTavish's kist half a pund of tea which

Jenny had stole from my wiffes cupboard. Jenny denied taking your

Bowa; but not doubting that you would tell a lee, and as Jenny tuke

the tea, my wife thocht she must have taken your Bowa too, so I

turned off Jeny for your satisfaction. She went home to her mithers

house in ---, and four Sundays after, wha should be cocken in the

breist of the laft, all set round with ribbons in her heed, but Miss

Jeny with your Bowa on her shoulders, like a sow with a saddle on its

back. I stopped her coming out of the kirk. So So, Miss Jeny (says

I) hae ye stumped the cow of her tale, or is this the ladies Bowa ye

have on your sholders? The brazen faced woman had the impudence to

deny the Bowa was yours, and said her sweetheart had bot it for her

in a secondhand shop in the Salt Market of Glasgow. But I cut

matters short wi' Jeny; I een, as if by your authority, tuke the law

in my own hand, and tore the Bowa from her sholders; it was torn a

little in the scuffle wi' Jeny and me afore the congregation in the

kirk yard, but I carried it off in spite of her, and now send it to

you, hopping you will put a letter in the newspaper of Lundon

cleering the karacter of me and my wiffe Peggy, and my Inn of the

Golden Arms. As for Miss Jeny ye may mak her as black as auld nick,

for over and above Peggies half pund of tea, and your Bowa, Jeny (I

hae good reason to believe) is no better than she should be. I am,

Madum, your vera humbel sarvint,

"John ---."

It will hardly be credited that at the commencement of 1837 there was

only one railway running out of London, and that was the Greenwich

railway, which, however, only went as far as Deptford, where it deposited

its passengers in the midst of market gardens, leaving them to walk or

ride to Greenwich. But there were several running in the midlands (six

railways in all England), and what was then called "The Grand Junction

Railway," from Liverpool to Birmingham, was opened on the 4th July of

this year. Cognate with railways is the practical working of the

Electric Telegraph, now so necessary to their being. On 12 June, 1837, a

patent was granted (No. 7390) to William Fothergill Cooke, of Breeds

Place, Hastings, and Charles Wheatstone, of Conduit Street, Hanover

Square, for their invention of "Improvements in giving signals and

sounding alarums at distant places by means of electric currents

transmitted through metallic circuits." This hitherto scientific toy was

first tried on 25 July by permission of the London and North Western

Railway (then in progress) between Euston and Camden Town stations, and

its successful operation was witnessed with delight by Fox and R.

Stephenson, amongst many others.

A great feature in this year was the "Tom and Jerryism" (so called from

Pierce Egan's "Life in London," 1821) that existed, especially among the

upper class of young men. Foremost of all was the Marquis of Waterford,

whose delight was in the company of prize fighters, _et hoc genus omne_,

and whose idea of amusement consisted in visiting the lowest public

houses, and treating everybody with liquor, even pails full of gin being

distributed to whoever would partake of it--being never so happy as when

the debauch ended in a fight. Knocker wrenching and similar pranks were

his delight, and _Punch_, at the very commencement of vol. i., gives a

suggestion for a monument to him. His pranks would fill a volume, and in

August of this year (during a yachting trip), whilst at Bergen, he

received a blow on the head from a stalwart watchman that nearly killed

him.

[Picture: Punch, vol. I., p. 14. July, 1841]

Here is a specimen police case. _Times_, 10 _July_, 1837:

BOW STREET.--On Saturday (8th July) three persons were brought before

Mr. Minshull, charged with twisting knockers off hall doors,

assaulting the police, and other disorderly conduct; and, it having

been rumoured that one of the parties charged was the Marquis of

Waterford, a great crowd of persons assembled in front of the Office

to catch a glimpse of his Lordship. It proved, however, that the

gentleman alluded to was not the noble Marquis himself, but his

brother, Lord William Beresford, who gave the name of Charles

Ferguson. Two other persons were placed in the dock besides his

Lordship, one of whom gave the name of Edward Hammersley, of 41, St.

James's Street, and the other, who was equipped in the garb of a

waterman, said his name was George Elliott, and that he was his

Lordship's coxswain.

William Dodds, a police constable of the E division, No. 9, then

stated that he was on duty in Museum Street, between 1 and 2, on the

previous night, when he saw the two gentlemen at the bar go up to the

house, No. 49, and wrench the knocker from the door. Witness

expostulated with them, and, seeing another knocker in the hand of

the prisoner Elliott, he took him by the collar, upon which the

prisoner Hammersley dropped the knocker which he had just carried

off. The prisoner Ferguson then came up, and said, "It's all right,

old boy," and offered him money, which witness refused to take. The

two gentlemen then ran away, but were soon apprehended, witness still

retaining hold of Elliott. They were then conveyed to the police

station, where Ferguson refused to be searched, declaring that he

would not submit to such a rascally degradation, and, having said so,

he struck witness. The prisoners were then locked up.

Mr. William Gibson, of 49, Museum Street, proved that one of the

knockers produced belonged to him, and had been wrenched off his

street door.

Ferguson, in his defence, said he had been up the river on a boating

excursion, and had taken "rather too much wine." The other two

prisoners also pleaded having taken a drop too much.

Mr. Minshull observed that there were two charges against Ferguson,

whom he should consider as the principal offender, and should fine

him 5 pounds for unlawful possession of one of the knockers, and 5

pounds for assaulting the police constable in the execution of his

duty. He should not fine the other two.

Ferguson said he had no objection to pay 5 pounds for the knocker,

but, as he denied the assault, he should appeal against the fine.

Mr. Minshull informed him that there was no appeal in the case, but

he intimated that Mr. Ferguson might go to prison, if he pleased,

instead of paying the fine.

Ferguson: Oh, there's no occasion for that; I shall pay the fine.

Mr. Minshull then desired him to come round in front of the bench,

and said to him: "I dare say, Sir, you have money enough at your

disposal, but I pray you not to entertain the notion that you can

therefore do as you think fit in the streets of this metropolis,

either by night, or by day. You were brought before me, recently,

for a similar offence, when I fined you 5 pounds, and I now warn you,

that if you should again appear before me, under circumstances like

the present, I shall, most assuredly, feel it to be my duty, not to

inflict a pecuniary fine upon you--for that is no punishment to a

person in your station--but I shall send you, at once, as I am

authorized to do, to hard labour in the House of Correction, and you

will then see that neither rank, nor riches, can entitle you to the

privilege of committing depredations upon the property of peaceable

and industrious persons, or of disturbing the peace and quiet of this

town with impunity."

The noble Lord was then handed over to the custody of the gaoler, and his

two companions were discharged. It appeared that he had not sufficient

money about him to pay the fines, but his brother, the Marquis of

Waterford, after visiting him in "durance vile," released him from his

ignoble captivity by paying the fines.

On the same day, his brother, Lord James Beresford, was arrested for

disgusting behaviour, and two "young men of genteel appearance," who gave

false names, were taken in custody by the police for maliciously

upsetting a shell-fish stall.

One more illustration of the amusements and behaviour of the _jeunesse

doree_ of that period will suffice. _Times_, 25 _Nov._

MARLBOROUGH STREET.--Lord Harley, of Chester Place, Capt. W. E.

Reynolds, of Jermyn Street, and Mr. Charles Lushington, of Tavistock

Hotel, were on Thursday (23 Nov.) brought before Mr. Chambers,

charged with having practised the fashionable amusement of ringing

door bells.

Mr. Young, surgeon, Piccadilly, said, about 5 o'clock that morning he

was roused by a violent ringing at his bell. He answered the summons

immediately.

Capt. Reynolds: It's a --- lie. You have committed perjury.

Mr. Lushington (to the complainant): You are a --- liar. The fact

is, I hurt my fingers and wanted some diachylum plaister, and I

therefore rang the bell of the first surgeon I came to. This is the

truth. So help me, God.

Mr. Young continued: When he got to the door, he found that all the

three defendants had gone away; and he immediately followed them, and

demanded their reason for disturbing him. The defendants turned upon

him, and made use of language and epithets which he would not pollute

his lips by repeating.

Capt. Reynolds (shaking his stick at the witness): I wish I had you

elsewhere.

Mr. Lushington: I'd roll you in the kennel, if it was worth while.

Mr. Young continued: The altercation attracted the notice of the

police, and witness gave them into custody. When they got to the

station house, and witness was proceeding to make the charge, the

defendants repeated their disgusting epithets and language.

It is impossible to do more than to remark that the language was of a

description hitherto presumed to be confined to the vilest class of

the community.

Mr. Young added that all the defendants appeared to be intoxicated.

Lord Harley: I beg pardon, I was sober.

Inspector Beresford was sworn to the fact.

Inspector: His Lordship was more intoxicated than the others.

Mr. Lushington (falling on his knees, and holding up his hands): I

was not drunk this night--so help me, C---t.

The Inspector swore that none of the defendants were sober.

Mr. Lushington: The case shall be carried to a higher court.

Mr. Chambers: Then, to give you an opportunity of taking your case

elsewhere, I shall make you all find bail; and Mr. Young, if he

pleases, may prefer an indictment against you.

Mr. Chambers asked Mr. Lushington if he was a relative of Dr.

Lushington, {10} and received a reply in the affirmative.

Capt. Reynolds said, if his language had been offensive towards the

bench, he was sorry for having used it.

Mr. Chambers said, personally, he was indifferent to the language

used to him.

The parties having left the box, Mr. Young told Mr. Chambers that he

had no wish to press the case further. He wished an arrangement

could be made, so that the bench could decide the matter summarily.

The defendants were acquainted with this very handsome conduct on the

part of the complainant, and, after some discussion, Capt. Reynolds

and Mr. Lushington agreed to pay 5 pounds each to a charity.

Lord Harley was fined 5/- for being intoxicated.

When Mr. Chambers was inflicting the latter fine, he said to Lord

Harley that he hoped he would exert his influence, if he had any,

with some members of the Legislature, to get the fine for drunkenness

increased to 1 pound where the party was a gentleman.

The defendants paid the fines, and went away.

CHAPTER II.

Thames Tunnel flooded--First mention of the Nelson

column--Moustaches--Sale of the King's stud--Marriage by

Registrar--Commencement of New Houses of Parliament--Lunatics and the

Queen--The Queen's visit to the Guildhall--Lord Beaconsfield's maiden

speech.

Nowadays very little is thought of making a tunnel under the Thames, but

the first one, designed and carried out by Sir Marc Isambard Brunel, was

regarded, and rightly so, as a most wonderful feat of engineering. One

was proposed in 1799, and a shaft was sunk in 1804, but the work went no

further. The one now spoken of was approved by Act of Parliament 24

June, 1824, and the shaft was begun and the first brick laid on 2 March,

1825. It suffered several times from irruptions of water; one, on 18

May, 1827; another, in which six lives were lost, on 12 Jan. 1828. In

1837 there were two irruptions, the first taking place on 23 August, and

it is thus described by one of Brunel's assistants: "We were at work

about two o'clock on Wednesday, when we found the water coming in faster

than usual. At first, we observed a quantity of loose sand falling near

the gallery, which changed to thin, muddy drops. This convinced us that

the _stratum_ in which the men were working was bad, loose soil. The

increase of water made it necessary to withdraw the men, which was done

by a passage under the crown of the arch, made for their safety in case

of accidents. No injury was sustained by any of the men. I was not

satisfied, at the time, of the real extent of the bad soil, and I ordered

a boat to be brought, with a rope of sufficient length to enable us to

float to the shield. The boat was brought, but the rope attached to it,

and by which we were to be hauled into the shaft, was shorter than we had

ordered it. This deficiency probably saved our lives. We had not

proceeded far in the boat when I perceived, by the twinkling of the

lights in the tunnel, and other indications of inundation, that the

waters came in with increased rapidity. I then gave the signal to be

hauled into the shaft, and had scarcely done so when I observed the

ground above give way, and the water descending in a thousand streams,

like a cascade, or the Falls of Niagara. We were rescued, but, had the

rope by which we were relieved from our perilous situation been of a

length to allow the boat to go to the extremity of the tunnel, in all

probability we should have been drowned. This happened about four

o'clock, and, soon after five, the tunnel was entirely filled. No lives

were lost. The only injury done is the suspension of the works. The

steam engine, when the leak is stopped, will throw out a ton of water per

minute; and, in three days and nights, the whole of the tunnel may be

pumped dry."

The second irruption, on 3 Nov., also filled the Tunnel, but on this

occasion one man lost his life.

In the _Times_ of 9 Sep. of this year I find the first suggestion of a

monument to Nelson, in Trafalgar Square:

"Sir, I observe in your paper of Tuesday last, that a correspondent

has commented upon the proposed plan for laying out Trafalgar Square.

"Allow me to suggest through your columns the favourable opportunity

and most appropriate situation, now afforded, of erecting in the

centre of the Square some worthy trophy, or statue, commemorating the

glorious victories of the immortal Nelson. Whilst other great

commanders and statesmen are honoured with suitable public monuments

to their fame, surely the British nation would be eager, if called

on, to pay this tribute to the valour, intrepidity and success of

this illustrious hero. Yours, etc.--J. B."

In those days every man went clean shaven, or only had side whiskers, a

full beard being unknown, and moustaches were confined to foreigners and

to a few cavalry regiments, so that for a working man to sport them

(although now so exceedingly common) would probably lead to derision and

persecution, as in the following police case reported in the _Times_ of

21 Sep.:

MARLBOROUGH STREET.--Yesterday, a young man, "bearded like the pard,"

who said he was a carpenter employed on the London and Birmingham

Railroad, applied to Mr. Rawlinson, the sitting magistrate, for an

assault warrant, under the following ludicrous circumstances:

Mr. Rawlinson: What do you want the warrant for?

Applicant: I'll tell your worship, and you'll say it's the most

haggrawating and provoking thing as ever was heard on. Veil, then, I

goes to my vork, as usual, this 'ere morning, ven one of my shopmates

said to me, "Bill, you arn't shaved your hupper lip lately." "Don't

mean it," says I. "Vy?" says he. "'Cos," I replied, "I intends

vearing mustachios to look like a gentleman." "Vell, then," says he,

"as you intends to become a fashionable gentleman, p'raps you'll have

no objection to forfeit half-a-gallon of ale, as it's a rule here

that every workman vot sports mustachios, to have them vetted a bit."

Veil, has I refused to have my mustachios christened, they made game

of them, and said they weren't half fledged; and, more nor all that,

they hustled me about, and stole my dinner out of the pot, and

treated me shameful, and so I want your advice respecting my

mustachios.

Mr. Rawlinson: My advice is, to go to a barber and have them shaved

off without loss of time.

Applicant: Can't part with a single hair.

Mr. Rawlinson: You want to look like a grenadier, I suppose?

Applicant: My granny-dear (God bless her old soul!), she never had

such a fashionable and warlike appendage in her life.

Mr. Rawlinson: What business has a carpenter with a quantity of long

hair hanging from his lip?

Applicant: The reason vy I vears it is 'cos it's fashionable, and

makes me look like a man of some courage.

Mr. Rawlinson: Fashionable, indeed! I wish, with all my heart, that

the fashion was discontinued. Why need an Englishman make a Jew of

himself? It is disgusting to see persons strutting through the

streets with mustachios, and, sometimes, a fringe of hair round the

face and chin, which is dignified by the name of whiskers. As you

won't take my advice, I can't assist you.

Applicant: Vot! not for striking me on the hupper lip?

Mr. Rawlinson: Then your mustachios must have saved you.

Applicant: No, they didn't.

Mr. Rawlinson: How's that?

Applicant: 'Cos the hair ain't long and thick enough; they're only

young 'uns as yet. There was no occasion to strike me.

Mr. Rawlinson: And there's no occasion for you to wear mustachios.

You may have a warrant, if you like, but I think you had better not.

The man with mustachios then withdrew.

The late King's stud at Hampton was doomed to be sold, and the sale

thereof created something of a sensation. On this subject there is, in a

little twopenny weekly magazine, called _The Torch_, 9 Sep., '37 (vol.

i., p. 19), a periodical now long forgotten, a poem by Tom Hood, which I

have not seen in any collection of his poems. It is a

PETITION TO HER MAJESTY FOR PRESERVING THE ROYAL STUD AT HAMPTON COURT.

BY THOMAS HOOD.

I.

LIEGE LADY, all the nation's in high dud-

geon that Lord Melbourne's brains should be so muddy

As to advise you sell your royal _stud_,

Which to preserve, should be your royal study.

II.

Poor nags you would not in your stable find,

Like cavalry of Evans called De Lacey,

No! I do rather hope your royal mind

Is naturally fond of something racy.

III.

Pray, what has Hampton done that you should trounce ill-

naturedly its prancers and its sport?

You have a breed of _asses_ in the _Council_,

Do keep a breed of _horses_ in the _Court_.

IV.

His truth who says that you should sell them, fails.

Believe me, Lady liege, he tells a crammer;

You'll set your people biting all their _nails_,

If you put up your horses to the _hammer_.

V.

I like these money-turning Whigs, indeed;

Who, into coin, change everything they're able.

You're just installed, and they would sell _the steed_,

It doesn't make me think they're very _stable_.

VI.

I daresay they believe they're very knowing,

I think they're close to their official shelves:

And, when they set the horses "Going, going,"

It's nearly time they should be gone themselves.

VII.

The nation quite in Hampton Court rejoices,

What! sell its stud of steeds beyond all praise!

_Nay_, shout the people with indignant voices,

And the stud echoes with a hundred _neighs_.

VIII.

Then sell them not, dear lady, I implore ye;

Of tears 'twill set your people shedding floods;--

I tell ye what will make 'em all adore ye,--

Kick out your ministers and keep your bloods!

But Hood must have laboured under a misapprehension, for the horses were

the private property of the late King, and his executors had no option

but to sell them. It was said that William IV. in his lifetime wished

the country to take the stud over, at a valuation, and, after his death,

it was offered to Queen Victoria for 16,000 pounds. The sale took place

on Oct. 25, and there were 80 lots, which did not fetch particularly high

prices, the highest being "The Colonel," who was bought, after winning

the St. Leger, by George IV. for 4,000 guineas; but the horse broke down

after running a dead heat at Ascot in 1831. He only realised 1,150

guineas, and was bought by the auctioneer, Mr. Tattersall. The next

highest price given was for "Actaeon," which fetched 920 guineas. The

total proceeds of the sale was 15,692 guineas.

In October a great change was made in the matter of marriage, which had,

hitherto, been a purely ecclesiastical affair, but by the 6 & 7 Gul. iv.,

cap. 85, Registrars of births and deaths were empowered to marry couples,

and it became a purely civil contract. This Act was to have come into

force on the first day of March; but a subsequent Act postponed it to the

last day of June, and it really only became effective in October. It

surprised people by its simplicity, and the gist of the Act is in Section

xx.: "And be it enacted, That after the expiration of the said Period of

Twenty-one Days or of Seven Days, if the Marriage is by Licence,

Marriages may be solemnized in the registered Building stated as

aforesaid in the notice of such Marriage, between and by the Parties

described in the Notice and Certificate, according to such form and

ceremony as they may see fit to adopt: Provided nevertheless, that every

such Marriage shall be solemnized with open doors, between the Hours of

Eight and Twelve in the Forenoon, in the Presence of some Registrar of

the District in which such registered Building is situated, and of Two,

or more, credible Witnesses; provided also, that in some Part of the

Ceremony, and in the Presence of such Registrar and Witnesses, each of

the Parties shall declare:

"'I do solemnly declare, That I know not of any lawful Impediment why I,

A. B., may not be joined in Matrimony to C. D.'

"And each of the Parties shall say to the other:

"'I call upon these Persons here present to witness that I, A. B., do

take thee, C. D., to be my lawful wedded Wife [or Husband].'

"Provided also, that there be no lawful Impediment to the Marriage of

such Parties."

The old House of Commons was destroyed by fire on 16 Oct., 1834, and it

was not until September, 1837, that the first contracts for the

commencement of the construction of the new works, in connection with the

present building, were entered into. They were for the formation of an

embankment 886 feet in length, projecting into the river 98 feet further

than that then existing, to be faced with granite, and a terrace 673 feet

long next the river, and 35 feet wide, in front of the new Houses, with

an esplanade at each end 100 feet square, with landing stairs from the

river 12 feet wide. The whole surface of the front building was to be

excavated, and filled in with concrete 12 feet thick, thus forming a

permanent and solid foundation for the superstructure. Towards the end

of this year, the Queen was somewhat pestered with lunatics. On Nov. 4,

as she was going through Birdcage Walk on her return from Brighton, a man

of respectable appearance went near the Queen's carriage, held up his

fist, and made use of most insulting language towards Her Majesty and the

Duchess of Kent, declaring that the Queen was an usurper, and he would

have her off her Throne before a week was out. He was afterwards

arrested, and turned out to be Mr. John Goode, a gentleman of large

property in Devonshire, who had been previously in custody on 24th of May

(Her Majesty's birthday) for creating a disturbance and forcibly entering

the enclosure of Kensington Palace. He was taken before the Privy

Council, and when examined, declared that he was a son of George IV. and

Queen Caroline, born at Montague House, Blackheath, and that, if he could

but get hold of the Queen, he would tear her in pieces. He was told to

find bail, himself in 1,000 pounds, and two sureties of 500 pounds each;

but these not being forthcoming, he was sent to prison. On entering the

hackney coach, he instantly smashed the windows with his elbows, and

screamed out to the sentinels: "Guards of England, do your duty, and

rescue your Sovereign." He was, after a very short imprisonment,

confined in a lunatic asylum.

The other case was a German baker, but he only uttered threats against

the Queen and her mother, and he, too, was put in an asylum.

A great event, and a very grand sight, was the Queen's visit to the City

of London on 9 Nov., when Alderman Cowan inaugurated his mayoralty. The

Queen went in State, attended by all her Court, her Ministers, the

Judges, etc. The procession started from Buckingham Palace soon after 2

p.m. and reached Guildhall about 3.30.

The interior of the Guildhall was "exceeding magnifical." There was a

canopy of carved gilt, with draperies of crimson velvet and gold fringe

and tassels, its interior, being also of crimson velvet, was relieved by

ornaments in silver and a radiated oval of white satin with golden rays.

The back was fluted in white satin, enriched with the Royal Arms in

burnished gold. The State chair was covered with crimson velvet with the

Royal Arms and Crown, with the rose, thistle and shamrock tastefully

interwoven.

At each end of the Hall, the walls were covered with immense plates of

looking-glass. The window at the eastern end of the Hall, above the

throne, having been removed, a gigantic wooden framework was substituted,

on which was erected a gorgeous piece of gas illumination. Above the

mouldings of the windows, and over the City Arms, waved the Royal

Standard and the Union Jack. Above was the Royal cypher, V.R., in very

large characters, surmounted by the appropriate word "Welcome," the whole

being encircled by an immense wreath of laurels, which terminated, at the

lower extremity of the framework, with the rose, thistle and shamrock.

Over the clock at the western end, and reaching nearly the whole breadth

of the Hall, with Gog and Magog on the right and left, was placed an

immense stack of armour, with upwards of 30 furled flags as an

appropriate background. Immediately above was the magnificently radiated

star of the Order of the Garter, surrounded by crimson drapery, and the

scroll "God save the Queen" entirely composed of cut glass, which, when

lit up, seemed, literally, one continued blaze of diamonds. The whole

was surmounted by the imperial crown and wreaths of laurel, intermingled

with the rose, thistle and shamrock, covering the entire outline of the

window. Where, formerly, was the musicians' gallery, on the opposite

side, was occupied by three stacks of armour; complete coats of mail

were, likewise, suspended in other parts of the Hall; two knights in

complete armour guarded the entrance of the Hall and Council Chamber,

which latter was fitted up for the Queen's reception room, and hung

throughout with crimson fluted cloth, finished with gold mouldings and

festoons of red and white flowers. Upon a platform stood a chair of

state, splendidly gilt and covered with crimson velvet, and there was no

other chair nor seat of any kind in the apartment. The Queen's

retiring-room was the Aldermen's Court, and was superbly decorated,

having a magnificent toilet table covered with white satin, embroidered

with the initials V.R., a crown and wreath in gold, and looped with gold

silk rope and tassels.

After the Queen's arrival at the Guildhall, and having spent some little

time on her toilet, her Majesty was conducted to the Council Chamber,

where--seated on her throne, and surrounded by Royal Dukes and Duchesses,

etc.--she listened to a dutiful address read by the Recorder, and, at its

conclusion, she was graciously pleased to order letters patent to be made

out conferring a baronetcy on the Lord Mayor and knighthood on the two

Sheriffs, John Carroll and Moses Montefiore, Esquires, the latter, as

before mentioned, being the first Jew who had received that honour.

At 20 minutes past 5 the Queen entered the Hall, in which was the

banquet, wearing a rich pink satin dress, ornamented with gold and

silver, a splendid pearl necklace, diamond earrings, and a tiara of

diamonds. She occupied the centre of the Royal table, having on her

right the Duke of Sussex, the Duchess of Gloucester, the Duchess of

Cambridge, Prince George of Cambridge and the Duchess of Sutherland; and

on her left, the Duke of Cambridge, the Duchess of Kent, the Princess

Augusta of Cambridge and the Countess of Mulgrave. As a specimen of the

magnificence of this banquet, it may be mentioned that at the Royal table

the whole of the service was of gold, as were the candelabra, epergnes,

soup tureens, cellarets, etc.; one firm furnished gold plate for the

Queen's table and sideboard to the value of 115,000 pounds, and another

firm nearly the same amount, whilst the value of plate lent by various

gentlemen was assessed at 400,000 pounds, besides which there was the

Civic plate. The china dessert plates at the Queen's table cost 10

guineas each, and all the glass decanters and china were specially made

for the occasion.

At 20 minutes past 8, the Queen left the Hall, and in her retiring room

was served with tea from a splendid gold service made for the occasion,

and she reached Buckingham Palace about half-past 9--highly delighted

with her entertainment.

There is nothing more of interest in this year, if we except the maiden

speech of Lord Beaconsfield, in the House of Commons, which took place on

7th Dec. Mr. Disraeli (as he then was) had the disadvantage of following

O'Connell, in a noisy debate on the legality of the Irish Election

Petition Fund. He was not listened to from the first, and, in the middle

of his speech, as reported by _Hansard_, after begging the House to give

him five minutes, he said: "He stood there to-night, not formally, but,

in some degree, virtually, as the representative of a considerable number

of Members of Parliament (_laughter_). Now, why smile? Why envy him?

Why not let him enjoy that reflection, if only for one night?" All

through his speech he was interrupted, and this is its close, as reported

in _Hansard_. "When they recollected the 'new loves' and the 'old loves'

in which so much passion and recrimination was mixed up between the noble

Tityrus of the Treasury Bench, and the learned Daphne of Liskeard--(_loud

laughter_)--notwithstanding the _amantium ira_ had resulted, as he always

expected, in the _amoris integratio_--(_renewed

laughter_)--notwithstanding that political duel had been fought, in which

more than one shot was interchanged, but in which recourse was had to the

secure arbitrament of blank cartridges--(_laughter_)--notwithstanding

emancipated Ireland and enslaved England, the noble lord might wave in

one hand the keys of St. Peter, and in the other--(_the shouts that

followed drowned the conclusion of the sentence_). Let them see the

philosophical prejudice of Man. He would, certainly, gladly hear a cheer

from the lips of a popular opponent. He was not at all surprised at the

reception which he had experienced. He had begun several things many

times, and he had often succeeded at last. He would sit down now, but

the time would come when they would hear him. (_The impatience of the

House would not allow the hon. member to finish his speech_; _and during

the greater part of the time the hon. member was on his legs_, _he was so

much interrupted that it was impossible to hear what the hon. member

said_)."

CHAPTER III.

Destruction of Royal Exchange--Sale of the salvage--Spring-heeled Jack

and his pranks--Lord John Russell's hat.

As a sad pendant to the Civic festivities at the close of 1837 comes the

destruction by fire of the Royal Exchange on the night of the 10th of

January following.

It was first noticed a little after 10 p.m., when flames were observed in

Lloyd's Coffee Room in the north-east corner of the building, opposite

the Bank, the firemen of which establishment were soon on the spot, as

well as many other of the metropolitan engines. But, before any water

could be thrown upon the building, it was necessary to thaw the hose and

works of the engines by pouring hot water upon them, as the frost was so

very severe; so that, by 11 p.m., all Lloyd's was a mass of flame.

Nothing could be done to stop the conflagration, it having got too great

a hold, and great fears were entertained that it would spread to the Bank

and surrounding buildings, the which, however, was fortunately prevented.

The Lord Mayor was present, and a large body of soldiers from the Tower

assisted the Police in keeping the crowd away from the immediate scene.

It must have been a magnificent sight, and somewhat curious, for amidst

the roar of the flames, and until the chiming apparatus was destroyed,

and the bells dropped one by one, the chimes went on pealing "There's nae

luck about the house," {23} "Life let us cherish," and "God save the

Queen." The fire was not completely got under until noon the next day,

but, practically, the building was destroyed by 5 am., and, so bright was

the conflagration, that it was visible at Windsor--twenty-four miles off,

and at Theydon, in Essex, a distance of eighteen miles; whilst from the

heights of Surrey on the south, and Highgate and Hampstead on the north,

the progress of the fire was watched by crowds of people.

The following account of the Exchange after the fire is taken from the

_Times_ of 13 Jan.:

"Yesterday afternoon the ruins of the Exchange were sufficiently

cooled to allow the firemen and a party of gentlemen, amongst whom we

noticed the Lord Mayor, Mr. Alderman Copeland, several members of the

Gresham Committee, and other persons connected with the mercantile

interest, to inspect them. In consequence of the loose fragments of

stone work belonging to the balustrades and ornamental parts of the

building being covered over with ice, the difficulty of walking over

the ruins was very great, and the chief magistrate fell more than

once, receiving sundry bumps. The lofty chimnies standing appeared

to be in such a dangerous condition, that they were hauled down with

ropes, to prevent their falling on the people below. The iron chests

belonging to the Royal Exchange Assurance Company could be distinctly

seen, from the area, inserted in the walls. Ladders were raised, and

they were opened, when it was discovered that their contents,

consisting of deeds and other papers connected with the Company and

their insurances, were uninjured. This afforded much satisfaction to

the directors. Another iron safe, belonging to Mr. Hathway, whose

office, under the tower, was consumed, which was also in a recess in

the wall, was opened at the same time, and a considerable sum in

francs and bank-notes was taken out.

"The walls of the west wing of the building, which seemed to bulge

outward, were shored up in the afternoon, and they are not, now,

likely to fall. Cornhill presented a most desolate appearance, the

shops, from Finch Lane to the termination of the street near the

Mansion House, were all closed, and the place presented a deserted

and desolated appearance; which, contrasted with the bustle hitherto

observed during business hours, and the sight of the ruins, forced

very unpleasant reflections on the mind. Barriers were placed at the

Mansion House end of Cornhill, and across that part of the street

between Finch and Birchin Lanes, and no person was allowed to pass

except the firemen and persons on business. All the avenues leading

to Cornhill were also blocked up in like manner; and, at each

barrier, police officers and ward constables were placed to prevent

people passing. Various schemes were devised, by numerous

individuals, to pass these barriers, and sums were, occasionally,

offered to the police to be allowed to visit the ruins, but without

effect. The City police kept the thieves away by their presence and

activity, and the conduct of the people was, yesterday, very quiet,

forming a contrast with the disorder got up by the swell mob on

Thursday last. Those who viewed the ruins at a distance appeared to

wear an air of melancholy, and no fire has occurred, for centuries,

which has caused more universal regret.

"On searching the ruins under the Lord Mayor's Court Office, the

great City seal was picked up, with two bags, containing 200 pounds

in gold, uninjured. On this discovery being communicated to the Lord

Mayor and Aldermen, it caused much gratification, it having been

rumoured that the Corporation would lose their Charter by the loss of

the seal, but we did not hear it explained how this could be.

"Owing to the great body of fire underneath the ruins at the

north-east angle of the Exchange, it was impossible for the firemen

to ascertain, until a late hour, whether any injury had been done to

Lloyd's books, which were deposited in a large iron safe inserted in

the wall. Two engines had been playing on it during the latter

portion of the day. In the presence of several of the Committee it

was opened, when it was discovered that the fire had reached the

books, and partially consumed them. In the drawers were cheques on

the Bank of England to a large amount, and also Bank of England notes

to the amount of, it is said, 2,560 pounds. The notes were reduced

to a cinder, and, on the drawers being opened, the air rushing in on

the tender fragments blew them over the Exchange. They were,

however, very carefully collected, and the cinders of the notes were,

with much trouble and caution, put into a tin case, which was taken

to the Bank, and the words 'Bank of England,' with the numbers and

dates, were distinctly traced. The amount will, in consequence, be

paid to the owners. From what information could be obtained from the

gentlemen who took possession of the box, and who were understood to

be underwriters, it was the usual custom of the secretary not to

leave any money or notes in the safe, but to deposit the money in the

Bank, which was done on the evening the fire took place. The money

and notes above mentioned, and which were found in the safe, belonged

to a subscriber who, on the afternoon of Wednesday, asked permission

to deposit his money in the safe until the next day, which was

acceded to by the secretary. Some idea may be formed of his state of

mind on arriving at the Exchange on the following morning, to see it

on fire, and he was in a state of distraction until the finding of

the cinders of the notes yesterday, which has, in some measure,

calmed his feelings. The underwriters are severe sufferers, having

left sums of money, to a large amount, in their desks, which, no

doubt, will never be recovered.

"During the confusion on the discovery of the fire, in removing some

books from a room in the north-east corner, in addition to 500 pounds

in Bank of England notes, which were taken to St. Michael's Church,

twenty sovereigns, in a bag, were thrown out of the windows. The bag

broke, and the sovereigns rolled about the pavement; they were all

picked up by the mob, who appropriated them to their own use.

"It is firmly believed that the overheating of the stoves caused the

disaster which the nation has now to deplore. Wednesday was an

exceedingly cold day, and large fires had been kept up from morning

till night in the building. There is no doubt the fire had been

spreading, to some extent, in Lloyd's rooms, long before it was seen

in the street. Some few months back, two watchmen were on the

premises all night, but, on the miserable plea of economy, they were

discharged, and the sacrifice of one of the finest buildings in the

Kingdom has been the consequence. We believe that most of our

cathedrals and large public buildings are left without watchmen

during the night, and we hope that the fate of the Royal Exchange

will bring about a change in this respect."

The merchants, who used to congregate "on 'Change," were accommodated in

the Guildhall, and the members of Lloyd's met at the Jerusalem Coffee

House--but these arrangements were, afterwards, modified. The Royal

Exchange Insurance Coy. took Sir James Esdaile's house, in Lombard

Street.

_Times_, 4 Ap., 1838:--"THE ROYAL EXCHANGE.--Yesterday, the first day's

sale of the materials of the Royal Exchange took place. It produced

nearly 2,000 pounds. The porter's large hand-bell (rung every day at

half-past four p.m. to warn the merchants and others that 'Change ought

to be closed), with the handle consumed, and valued at 10/-, was sold for

3 pounds 3/-; the two carved griffins, holding shields of the City arms,

facing the quadrangle, 35 pounds; the two busts of Queen Elizabeth, on

the east and west sides, 10 pounds 15/-; the copper grasshopper vane,

{27} with the iron upright, was reserved by the Committee; the alto

relievo, in artificial stone, representing Queen Elizabeth proclaiming

the Royal Exchange, 21 pounds; the corresponding alto relievo,

representing Britannia seated amidst the emblems of Commerce, accompanied

by Science, Agriculture, Manufactures, etc., 30 pounds; the carved

emblematical figures of Europe, Asia, Africa and America, 110 pounds.

The sale of the remainder of the materials, etc., it is understood, will

take place in about a month."

In the Mansion House Police Court, on 10 Jan., the Lord Mayor announced

that he had received five letters relative to an individual who was going

about the metropolitan suburbs frightening females to such an extent that

they were afraid to go out at night, as they were met by a man, who,

under different disguises, would suddenly appear before them, and as

suddenly disappear with terrible bounds, which earned him the name of

"Spring-heeled Jack," and he inspired such terror, that the recital of

the victim had to be taken with caution. Whoever he was, or why he so

acted, was never known, as he was never taken; but, certainly, robbery

had no part in his escapades, for he was quite content with paralysing

the poor women with fright.

The first facts I can gather about Jack are at the latter end of 1837, at

Barnes, where he appeared as a large white bull; at East Sheen he was a

white bear; he then visited Richmond, and after having terrorised that

town, he went to Ham, Kingston and Hampton, where he was clad in brass

armour, with large claw-like gloves. Teddington, Twickenham and Hounslow

were all visited by him, and at Isleworth we hear of him wearing steel

armour, in which he seems to have been attired when seen at Uxbridge,

Hanwell, Brentford and Ealing. At Hammersmith he took the form of a huge

baboon, and as such was seen in the moonlight, dancing at Kensington

Palace, ever and anon climbing over the forcing houses. He varied his

localities frequently, one day being at Peckham, another at St. John's

Wood, and anon at Forest Hill.

This about brings up to the time of its being mentioned by the Lord

Mayor, the consequence of which was that a Committee was formed at the

Mansion House for the purpose of receiving subscriptions and deciding

upon the best means of capturing this erratic genius. Probably feeling

that he had sufficiently terrorised the districts before mentioned, he

turned his attention to the East end of London, and particularly favoured

Bow. A case is given in the _Times_ of 23 Feb. A gentleman named Alsop,

living between Bow and Old Ford, appeared before the police magistrate at

Lambeth Street (then the Thames Police Office) accompanied by his three

daughters, one of whom stated that at about a quarter to nine o'clock on

the evening of the 21st February, 1838, she heard a violent ringing at

the front gate of the house, and, on going to the door to see what was

the cause, she saw a man standing outside, of whom she enquired what was

the matter. The person instantly replied that he was a policeman, and

said, "For God's sake bring me a light, for we have caught Spring-heeled

Jack here in the lane." She returned to the house, and brought a candle,

and handed it to the man, who was enveloped in a large cloak: The instant

she had done so, he threw off his outer garments, and, applying the

lighted candle to his breast, presented a most hideous and frightful

appearance, vomiting forth a quantity of blue and white flame from his

mouth, his eyes resembling red balls of fire. From the hasty glance

which her fright enabled her to get at his person, she observed that he

wore a large helmet, and his dress, which appeared to fit him very

tightly, seemed to her to resemble white oilskin. Without uttering a

sentence, he darted at her, and catching her partly by her dress and the

back part of her neck, placed her head under one of his arms, and

commenced tearing her clothes with his claws, which she was certain were

made of some metallic substance. She screamed out as loud as she could

for assistance, and, by considerable exertion, got away from him, and ran

towards the house to get in. Her assailant followed, and caught her on

the doorstep, when he again used considerable violence, tore her neck and

arms with his claws, as well as a quantity of hair from her head; her

story was fully corroborated by her parents and sisters, and her

injuries, which were very considerable, bore unmistakable testimony to

the truth of the assault.

At the same police court, on 8 Mar., 1838, a Miss Scales deposed that as

she and her sister were walking in Limehouse, about half-past eight in

the evening, on coming to Green Dragon Alley, they observed some person

standing in an angle in the passage. She was in advance of her sister at

the time, and just as she came up to the person, who was enveloped in a

large cloak, he spirted a quantity of blue flame right in her face, which

deprived her of sight, and so alarmed her, that she instantly dropped to

the ground, and was seized with violent fits, which continued for several

hours. In this case no violence to the person was done.

He had a literature of his own. I know of three pamphlets on the

subject; one, from which is taken the accompanying illustration, is

entitled "Authentic particulars of the awful appearance of the London

Monster, alias Spring-heeled Jack, together with his extraordinary life,

wonderful adventures and secret amours. Also an account of his horrible

appearance to Miss N--- and his singular letter to the Lord Mayor of

London."

[Picture: Spring-heeled Jack. Awful representation of the London

monster]

There is much more to be related of Jack, but space will not permit; but,

whether too much attention was beginning to be paid to him with a view to

his capture, or whether his love of mischief had died out, cannot be

told; but certain it was that nothing was known publicly of this singular

being after April, 1838, having kept London in a ferment of excitement

and terror for about six months.

There is an amusing police case anent Lord John Russell's hat.--_Times_,

8 Feb.:

THAMES POLICE COURT.--Yesterday, a poor woman, named Mary Ann Blay,

who stated that she resided at Limehouse, applied to Mr. Ballantyne

and Mr. Broderip, the magistrates, to request their interference

under very odd circumstances. The applicant stated that, about three

or four months ago, she was on her way home from Poplar, where she

had been purchasing some vegetables, when she saw something black

lying on the ground. She first supposed it was a piece of coal, but,

on stooping to pick it up, discovered it was a hat. She walked

onward, with the hat in her right hand, until she reached the

Commercial Road, when she was met by a policeman, who asked her where

she had got the hat. She informed him that she had picked it up at

the corner of the New Road, and the policeman looked at it, and saw

the name of Lord John Russell in the inside. He demanded the hat of

her, and, on her refusing to give it up to him, he seized the hat,

and took her into custody. She was locked up in the station houses

and, on the following morning, was brought before the sitting

magistrate at that office. The justice, after hearing the

policeman's statement, directed her to be discharged, and gave orders

that the hat should be detained for a certain time, in the station

house; and, if no owner was discovered, that it should be given up to

her. She had, since, made repeated inquiries of the police, but

could obtain no information from them, nor any redress for the false

imprisonment she had suffered.

Mr. Ballantyne asked the applicant if she was sure the hat belonged

to Lord J. Russell.

The woman said there had been a whitebait Cabinet dinner at Mr.

Lovegrove's, West India Dock Tavern, Blackwall, on the night she

found the hat, and Lord John Russell was one of the party.

Mr. Ballantyne: Well, I don't understand how his Lordship could lose

his hat at the corner of the New Road.

The woman said it was supposed that Lord J. Russell had put his head

out of the carriage window, and looked back to see if his friends

were following him, when his hat fell off his head, and, as he was a

Lord, he would not stop until it was picked up again (laughter).

Mr. Ballantyne: What do you want me to do in the matter?

The applicant said she wanted to know to whom the hat belonged.

Mr. Ballantyne: Why, I should say it belonged to Lord John Russell.

The woman said the hat was worth a guinea, and that if she had

accepted 5/- from the policeman, and given it up to him, he would not

have taken her into custody. She thought it was very hard to be

subject to such tyranny because she had picked up Lord John Russell's

hat, for she had done no harm to the crown of it. She supposed Lord

John Russell was in liquor, or he would have ordered his carriage to

stop, and picked up his hat. (Roars of laughter, in which the

magistrates could not help joining.) "You may laugh," said the

woman; "but it's all true what I say; you may depend upon it, the

Ministers don't eat whitebait without drinking plenty of wine after

it, you may be sure. (Increased laughter.) I don't know why the

gentlemen laugh, I am sure. I was locked up all night away from my

husband and children."

Mr. Ballantyne said it was very singular the woman could not

recollect what night it was she picked up the hat, and the number and

letter of the policeman who took her into custody.

The applicant said she was too much alarmed at being locked up in the

station house, and brought before the magistrate, to recollect what

night it was, or the policeman's identity.

Mr. Ballantyne said it was a very odd affair, and he would direct the

books to be searched to ascertain when the woman was brought before

the magistrate.

Soon afterwards, the woman was again brought up.

Mr. Ballantyne said, it appeared from the minutes that she was

brought before him on Tuesday, the 3rd of October last, on suspicion

of stealing a hat, and that the policeman said that he had stopped

her at two o'clock in the morning with the hat in her possession. It

appeared that he had discharged her, but no mention was made of the

hat belonging to Lord John Russell. If that fact had been mentioned

to him, he would have ordered the hat to be restored to his Lordship

immediately.

The Applicant: I am sure it is his Lordship's hat. There is Lord

John Russell inside of it, quite plain; it's a new one.

Mr. Ballantyne: Very well; an inquiry shall be made about the hat,

and you can attend here to-morrow, and we will let you know what has

become of it. I think Lord John Russell has the best claim to the

hat, if he has not already got it.

The sequel:

_Times_, 10 Feb.:--On Thursday, Mary Ann Blay again appeared before

Mr. Ballantyne upon the subject of Lord John's hat. She adhered to

her old story, that the hat had the noble Home Secretary's name in it

when she picked it up, but it had, subsequently, been torn out, after

it was taken out of her possession. Mr. Ballantyne examined the hat,

and said it was a dirty, greasy hat--a boy's hat, and that he would

not give 6d. for it. The policeman who took the woman in custody

declared that the woman's statement was, altogether, a fabrication,

and that the hat never had the name of Lord John Russell in it. Mr.

Ballantyne said he would make no order about the hat; and, if the

woman thought she had been wrongly imprisoned, she might seek her

remedy elsewhere.

CHAPTER IV.

Lords and pugilists--Penny "Gaffs"--Steam between England and America--A

man-woman--Designs for Nelson Monument--A termagant--Scold's bridles, &c.

I must give another police case, as showing the manners and customs of

the _jeunesse doree_ of this period.

_Times_, 19 Feb.:

MARLBOROUGH STREET.--On Saturday, Samuel Evans, better known as

"Young Dutch Sam," a pugilist, was brought before Mr. Conant, charged

with having committed an unprovoked and violent assault on policeman

Mackenzie, C 182, and Lord Waldegrave was also charged with

attempting to rescue Evans from the police.

The defendant Evans, when sober, is civil and well-conducted, but,

when drunk, is one of the most dangerous ruffians connected with the

prize-fighting gang. Lord Waldegrave is a very young nobleman, with

a fund of native simplicity in his countenance, rendered the more

conspicuous by the style of dress he had adopted, namely, a large

coloured shawl round his neck, and a rough pilot coat. Both parties

exhibited unquestionable proofs of the effect of their previous

night's potations.

Policeman Mackenzie, who had his arm in a sling, made the following

statement: About a quarter-past six that morning, after he had come

off duty, he went to the Standard public house, in Piccadilly, for

the purpose of getting some refreshment, but, on perceiving some of

the saloon frequenters there, to whom he was personally obnoxious, in

consequence of having taken disorderly persons of their acquaintance

into custody, he was about to go back, when he found himself suddenly

pushed into the house, with sufficient violence to cause his cape to

fall off. While engaged in folding up his cape, the defendant Evans

said, "Will any gentleman like to see a policeman put on his back?"

Complainant had not exchanged a single word with anybody; he,

however, found himself suddenly and quite unexpectedly seized by the

defendant, who had come behind him, and then thrown with violence

upon the floor; the defendant Evans fell upon him at the same time;

and, as complainant lay almost stunned and unable to rise, some

persons called out "Shame!" Complainant was then helped up and

assisted out of the house. He went immediately to the station house,

and mentioned what had occurred to Inspector Beresford, who instantly

sent a sufficient force to take the offenders into custody.

Complainant went and pointed out Dutch Sam to his comrades, and the

defendant was taken into custody. Lord Waldegrave, who was in the

pugilist's company, declared the police should not take his friend,

and he attempted to prevent the police from doing their duty.

Complainant, feeling his shoulder pain him very much, went to the

surgeon, and, by that gentleman's advice, proceeded to the Charing

Cross Hospital. When he was examined, it was ascertained that one of

the bones of his shoulder was broken.

Another policeman stated that Lord Waldegrave was very drunk, and,

when his Lordship attempted to resist the police, he was,

accidentally, thrown down on the pavement, and witness picked him up.

Lord Waldegrave: He! he! he! Picked me up, did you? Oh! He! he!

he!

Mr. Conant: This is no laughing matter, I can tell you; and it is

quite improper of you to make it a subject of merriment.

Lord Waldegrave: He! he! he! I beg pardon, but I can't help

laughing.

Mr. Conant asked Evans what he had to say in his defence?

Evans: Why, you see, Lord Waldegrave and me had been supping

together--hadn't we, my Lord?

Lord Waldegrave: Yes, we had.

Evans: And when we went into the public house there, we saw the

policeman, who was drunk, and who had been drinking purl in the

house. The policeman asked me to wrestle with him, and, as I thought

I could throw him, I accepted the challenge.

The Inspector proved that there was not one word of truth in Evans's

defence as far as regarded the sobriety of Mackenzie. The assault

took place within a few minutes after Mackenzie had come off duty,

and, certainly, before he could have time to get refreshment.

The policeman declared what the defendant asserted was entirely

false. He had taken nothing to drink; and, as to challenging a man

like the defendant to wrestle, the assertion was improbable.

Inspector Beresford, on being asked if he was certain Evans was

drunk, answered that he was decidedly drunk.

Evans: Silence, sweep, let a gentleman speak. I can get a dozen

oaths for half-a-crown.

Mr. Conant said the assault on the policeman was wanton and

unprovoked, and the matter was further aggravated by the fact that a

person of the defendant's well-known pugilistic powers had chosen to

attack an unoffending party. He should, therefore, call on the

defendant Evans to put in good bail.

Evans: Serve his Lordship the same; for I like to have such a pal.

Mr. Conant directed that Lord Waldegrave should be put back until a

second magistrate arrived.

Mr. Dyer having, soon afterwards, taken his seat on the bench, Lord

Waldegrave was placed at the bar.

Policeman Filmer, C 130, stated that he went with others to the

Standard public house, and took Evans into custody. Lord Waldegrave

threw his arms round his friend, and swore he should not be taken.

Witness swung his Lordship away, and, in doing so, his Lordship fell

down. Witness picked him up, and would have let him go had his

Lordship abstained from repeating his conduct. As he would not allow

the police to do their duty, he took him into custody.

Mr. Conant asked his Lordship what he had to say?

Lord Waldegrave: I have nothing to say. Perhaps I had taken too much

that night.

Policeman: His Lordship was very drunk.

Lord Waldegrave: Not very.

Mr. Conant: There has been no complaint of your conduct at the

station house, and I daresay your Lordship feels hurt at being in the

company of a person of the other defendant's description. Taking

into consideration the violence of the outrage committed by Evans, as

a warning, we must inflict a heavy fine. You must, therefore, pay 5

pounds to the Queen.

Mr. Dyer: And because--in our summary jurisdiction--we cannot go

beyond that sum, we inflict it as being the highest penalty in our

power.

The sum was paid, and the noble defendant discharged.

The whole social tone was low, from the highest to the lowest, and if the

police court gives us occasional glimpses of aristocratic amusement, so

it affords us a view of the entertainments provided for the lower

classes. Let us take one.

_Times_, 10 March:

HATTON GARDEN.--For some time past, numerous complaints have been

made to the magistrates of this office of two penny theatres, one in

Mortimer Market, Tottenham Court Road, and the other in a field

adjacent to Bagnigge Wells Road, where gangs of young thieves nightly

assembled. On Wednesday last, several inhabitants of Mortimer Market

attended at the Office to complain of the former establishment, when

Mr. Rogers granted a warrant to apprehend the whole of the parties

concerned, and on Thursday night, Duke, Baylis and Halls, of this

Office, in company with Inspector Jenkins and a body of constables,

proceeded to the theatre, and captured the manager, performers, and

musicians, and the whole of them were, yesterday, brought to the

office, and placed at the bar, when the office was excessively

crowded.

There were twelve prisoners, some of whom were attired in their

theatrical habiliments, with their countenances painted, which made a

very grotesque appearance.

Duke being sworn, stated that, in consequence of a warrant, on

Thursday night last, about 9 o'clock, he proceeded, with other

officers, to a penny theatre in Mortimer Market, St. Pancras, where

he found the whole of the prisoners, some of whom were engaged in

performing their parts, whilst Ewyn, the manager, was employed in

taking money at the doors, and the woman, Green, was acting as check

taker. Campbell and Lewis were enacting their parts upon the stage,

and Joseph Burrows was in his theatrical dress between them, with his

face painted and wearing a huge pair of moustaches. John Pillar was

in a temporary orchestra with a large violoncello, scraping away most

melodramatically, whilst the players were endeavouring to humour the

sounds, and to suit their action to the word, and the word to the

action; and just at that part of the performance when Burrows had to

exclaim, "The officers of justice are coming," witness and his

brother officers rushed upon the stage, and apprehended the whole of

them.

Mr. Rogers: What description of audience was there?

Duke: A dirty, ragged set, principally consisting of boys and girls;

two of them were barefooted, and had scarce a rag to cover them, and

did not seem to have been washed for a month. The theatre was of the

most wretched description; there was a temporary stage, and bits of

scenery. The boys said they were errand boys and servants. Brierly

and Smith said they were country actors out of an engagement, and had

visited the place out of curiosity.

Mr. Mallett: Had they an inscription that they were "Licensed

pursuant to Act of Parliament"?

Duke: They had not. On the gates was written up, "For this evening's

performance The Spectre of the Grave; after which, a comic song by

Mr. Ewyn; to conclude with The Key of the Little Door." They found

various theatrical dresses and other properties, with stars, swords,

etc., now produced.

Baylis proved having paid 1d. for admission. He paid the money to

the woman Green. Ewyn was at the door, and he confessed that he was

the manager. He took him into custody, and, subsequently, he

apprehended Lewis and Campbell, at the back of the stage, in their

theatrical dresses.

Mr. Rogers: Have you got "The Spectre of the Grave" here?

Inspector Jenkins: No, your Worship, he vanished. The other male

performers were dressed in sandals and armour, with their helmets up.

Hall and the other officers corroborated the above evidence. Several

inhabitants of Mortimer Market proved that they were, every night,

alarmed by firing off guns, cries of "Fire," clashing of swords, the

most boisterous ranting and shrieks from the voices of the ladies of

the _corps dramatique_, and the place was a perfect nuisance to the

neighbourhood.

The owner of the place stated that, on the 24th of January, he let

the place to a person named Summers, for chair making, when it was

turned into a theatre.

Ewyn said he had engaged with Summers to divide the profits of the

theatrical speculation. Summers agreed to take the place, and he

(Ewyn) to provide the scenery and wardrobe; "and proud I am to say,

that I have conducted the consarn respectably, which some of the

neighbours can testify. This is the head and front of my

offending--no more."

Inspector Jenkins said that, about a month ago, he called on Ewyn and

cautioned him, but he said that the magistrates had nothing to do

with the matter.

Mr. Rogers, addressing the prisoners, said they had received a

warning which they did not heed. He should not order them to find

bail, but would discharge them; and, if they dared to repeat their

performances after this admonition, he would grant a warrant for

their apprehension, and every one of them should find bail, or be

committed. They held out temptation to the children of poor persons,

some of whom, it appears, were without shoes and nearly naked, who

robbed their parents, or others, for the purpose of procuring the

penny for admission. He would order their paraphernalia to be

restored to them, but, on condition that they would remove their

fittings, and desist from any future performances.

Ewyn: You must give me time to take down the seats and decorations.

Mr. Rogers: You must take them down this day.

Ewyn (with a start): What! this day? Impossible.

Mr. Rogers directed Inspector Jones to see the mandate obeyed.

The month of April is famous for the inauguration of steam traffic

between England and America. A vessel named the _Savannah_ had in 1819

crossed from America to England, but her steam was only intended to be

auxiliary to her sailing power, for her boilers had only a pressure of 20

lbs. to the square inch. She sailed from New York on 28 Mar., 1819,

reached Savannah on 7 Ap., and anchored at Liverpool on 19 June; on her

return home her engines were taken out, and she was finally lost off Long

Island. In 1836 the Great Western Railway founded the Great Western

Steam Co., whose vessels were intended to run from Bristol in

co-operation with the railway, and the first ship built was the Great

Western, the largest steamer then afloat. She was 236 feet long and her

engines showed 750 indicated horse power, her registered tonnage being

1,300. She was intended to be the pioneer ship, and was ready for sea in

April, 1838; but competition was as keen then as now, and the St. Georges

Steam Packet Coy. started their s.s. Sirius, for the voyage to New York,

from London, on the 29th March. She had a tonnage of 700 tons, and her

engines were of 320 horse-power. She was elegantly fitted-up, and

started with 22 passengers, whose number was increased at Cork, and,

being intended solely for a passenger boat, carried no cargo. On going

down the Thames, she encountered her rival, the Great Western, which had

a pleasure party on board, and a trial of speed took place between the

two, resulting in favour of the Sirius. She sailed from Cork on 9th

April. The Great Western sailed from Bristol on the 12th April, and both

reached New York on the same day, the Sirius being first. The Great

Western made, in all, 64 passages between the two countries, her fastest

passage occupying 12 days, 7.5 hours. At the present writing, the record

voyage for an English steamer (the _Lucania_) is 5 days, 7 hours, 23

minutes.

The _Manchester Guardian_ of 14th April gives an account of a woman

living in that city, who for many years passed as a man, which has

occurred before, but the extraordinary part of this story is that she

_married another woman_.--"Subsequent inquiries confirm the truth of the

statements made in the _Guardian_ of Wednesday last, as to this singular

case. This woman man, who, for probably more than 25 years, has

succeeded in concealing her sex, and in pursuing a trade of more than

ordinarily masculine and hazardous description, with a degree of skill

and ability which has led to her establishment in a good business in this

town, bound herself apprentice, at the age of 16 or 17 years, to a Mr.

Peacock, a bricklayer and builder, at Bawtry, a small market town in the

West Riding of Yorkshire. She did not remain with Mr. Peacock during the

whole period of her apprenticeship, but was 'turned over,' as it is

called, to another person in the same business. It was during her

apprenticeship that she met with her present wife; and they were married

at the old parish church of Sheffield, in the year 1816, when the wife

was only 17 years old. Since the investigation and disclosure of the

circumstances, on Thursday week, the wife and husband have separated.

She was, for many years, a special constable in the 13th division of that

body, acting for this town; and we are assured that, on all occasions

when the services of the division were required, as at elections, Orange

processions, and meetings of trades' unions, turn-outs, etc., so far from

absenting herself from what, as in the case of well founded apprehension

of a riot, must have been, to a woman, a post of some unpleasantness, she

is remembered to have been one of the most punctual in attendance, and

the most forward volunteer in actual duty, in that division. We

understand that she is no longer a special constable, because she did

not, on the last annual special session, held for that purpose at the New

Bailey, present herself to be resworn. She was not discarded or

discharged; there was no complaint against her; and, probably, the

extension of her own business was her only motive for not resuming the

duties of this office. Altogether, this is the most singular case of the

kind which has ever reached our knowledge."

The following is an advertisement which appeared in the _Times_ of 27th

April:--"NELSON MONUMENT.--The Committee for erecting a Monument to the

Memory of Lord Nelson hereby give notice that they are desirous of

receiving from architects, artists, or other persons, DESIGNS for such a

MONUMENT, to be erected in Trafalgar Square.

"The Committee cannot, in the present state of the subscriptions, fix

definitely the sum to be expended, but they recommend that the estimated

cost of the several designs should be confined within the sums of 20,000

and 30,000 pounds. This condition, and that of the intended site, are

the only restrictions to which the artists are limited."

In the same newspaper of 16 May, we read of a punishment which might,

occasionally, be revived with advantage, as being less dangerous than the

ducking stool, and, probably, quite as efficacious, although we have the

authority of St. James, "For every kind of beasts, and of birds, and of

serpents, and of things of the sea, is tamed, and hath been tamed of

mankind, but the tongue can no man tame." It relates how, "at the

Mayor's Court, Stafford, last week, Mary, wife of Thomas Careless, of the

Broad Eye, a perfect termagant, was ordered to pay 1/- penalty, and 7/6

costs, for an unprovoked assault on Mary, the wife of Lewis Bromley.

During the investigation, her garrulity was so incessant that the mayor

was under the necessity of sending for the 'scold's bridle,' an iron

instrument of very antique construction, which, in olden times, was

occasionally called into use. It is formed of an elliptical bow of iron,

enclosing the head from the lower extremity of one ear to the other, with

a transverse piece of iron from the nape of the neck to the mouth, and

completely covers the tongue, preventing its movement, and the whole

machinery, when adjusted, is locked at the back of the head. The bridle

is to be put in thorough repair, and hung _in terrorem_ in the Mayor's

office, to be used as occasion may call it forth."

These "scold's bridles," or "branks," as they are sometimes called, are

not uncommon. The earliest dated one is preserved at Walton-on-Thames,

and bears the date 1633, with the inscription:

"Chester presents Walton with a bridle,

To curb women's tongues that talk to idle."

Brayley, in his "History of Surrey," says that it was given by a

gentleman named Chester, who lost a valuable estate through a gossiping,

lying woman; but, as there are several examples of branks in the

Palatinate, one being kept in the gaol at Chester, some people think it

was a present from that city. There is one at Leicester, and another at

Newcastle-on-Tyne, which used to hang in the mayor's parlour, and

tradition has it that many cases of disputes between women have been

speedily and satisfactorily settled on his worship's pointing to these

branks.

There is one in the Ashmolean Museum at Oxford, which is very tender as

far as the gag is concerned, but which has a leading chain fastened

between the eyes. Hainstall, Ridware, Lichfield, Morpeth, Shrewsbury,

Holme, Kendal, Altrincham, Macclesfield, Congleton (where it was last

used in 1824), all have examples, whilst Chester has four! There are

several in Scotland, and there are some in private hands, notably one

which used to be in the Mayer Museum, Liverpool, which came from

Warrington, where, however, the brank formerly used at Carrington is

preserved, and there are several places--Newcastle-under-Lyne (now in the

Mayer Collection), Manchester, and others--where they have existed.

There is a very grotesque one in Doddington Park, which is a mask, having

eyeholes, and a long funnel-shaped peak projecting from the mouth; and

there are some very terribly cruel ones, with fearful gags; but these can

scarcely come under scold's or gossip's bridles. There was one at

Forfar, with a spiked gag, which pierced the tongue, and an even more

severe one is at Stockport; whilst those at Ludlow and Worcester are,

also, instruments of torture.

CHAPTER V.

Thom, the religious fanatic--His riots and death--Delusions of his

followers.

From the earliest ages of Christianity _pseudo-Christoi_, or false

Christs, existed. Simon Magus, Dositheus, and the famous Barcochab were

among the first of them, and they were followed by Moses, in Crete, in

the fifth century; Julian, in Palestine, _circa_ A.D. 530; and Screnus,

in Spain, _circa_ A.D. 714. There were, in the 12th century, some seven

or eight in France, Spain and Persia; and, coming to more modern times,

there was Sabbatai Zewi, a native of Aleppo, or Smyrna, who proclaimed

himself to be the Messiah, in Jerusalem, _circa_ 1666. A list of

religious fanatics would be a long one, but the _pseudo-Christos_ of

modern times was, certainly, John Nicholl Thom, of St. Columb, Cornwall,

_alias_ Sir William Percy Honeywood Courtenay, Knight of Malta, and King

of Jerusalem; who also claimed to be Jesus Christ, in proof of which he

shewed punctures in his hands, and a cicatrice on his side.

He was first introduced to public notice in Michaelmas, 1832, when he

paid a visit to Canterbury, and took up his abode, for some time, at the

"Rose Inn," where he was remarkable for his eccentric behaviour, passing

under the name of Rothschild. His countenance and costume denoted

foreign extraction, while his language and conversation showed that he

was well acquainted with almost every part of the kingdom. He often

dressed in a fine suit of Italian clothing, and, sometimes, in the gayer

and more imposing costume of the east. In December of the same year, he

surprised the inhabitants of Canterbury by proposing himself as a

candidate for the representation of that city in Parliament, under the

name of Sir W. P. H. Courtenay. His canvass proceeded with extraordinary

success; and, such were his persuasive powers, that people of all ranks

felt an interest in his society; some, however, considered him insane,

while others were of a contrary opinion, and he did not succeed in his

ambition.

He next got mixed up in a smuggling affair, H.M. sloop _Lively_ having

captured a smuggling craft (the _Admiral Hood_) off the Goodwin Sands.

He attended the examination of the smugglers before the magistrates at

Rochester, attired in a fancy costume, and having a small scimitar

suspended from his neck, by a massive gold chain. He defended one of the

men, who, despite his advocacy, was convicted. He then offered himself

as a witness, swore that he had seen the whole transaction, that there

was no smuggling, and that the _Lively_ was to blame. This the

prosecution could not stand; he was indicted for perjury, and was tried

at Maidstone on 25 July, 1833. The sentence of the Court was

imprisonment and transportation, but, being proved to be insane, this was

commuted to confinement in the lunatic asylum, at Barming Heath. After

about four years spent in this establishment, he was released, on

security being given for his future good behaviour. He then went to live

at the residence of Mr. Francis, of Fairbrook, in the neighbourhood of

Boughton, near Canterbury. Owing to some misunderstanding with the

family, he removed to an adjoining cottage, and, at the time of which I

write, he lived at a farm-house, called Bossenden farm, occupied by a

person named Culver.

The influence obtained, by this maniac, over the small farmers and

peasantry in his neighbourhood, is most astonishing. They believed in

all he told them; first that he should be a great chieftain in Kent, and

that they should all live rent free on his land, and that if they would

follow his advice, they should have good living and large estates, as he

had great influence at Court, and was to sit at the Queen's right hand,

on the day of her Coronation. It would seem as if his madness, then, was

personal and political, but the religious mania speedily developed

itself. He told his deluded followers that they were oppressed by the

laws in general, but more particularly by the new poor law; and called

upon them to place themselves under his command. Nearly 100 at once

joined him, and as they marched through the neighbouring parishes their

numbers increased. It was then that he proclaimed his divinity--assuring

them that both he and they were not only invincible, but bullet proof,

and that they could never die.

[Picture: Death of Sir Wm. Courtenay. (Thom). 1838]

The following account, which appears to me to be the most succinct of

those I have seen, is from the _Times_ of 1 June:

"On Monday (28 May) they sallied forth from the village of Boughton,

where they bought bread, and proceeded to Wills's house, near

Fairbrook. A loaf was broken asunder, and placed on a pole, with a

flag of white and blue, on which was a rampant lion. Thence they

proceeded to Goodnestone, near Faversham, producing throughout the

whole neighbourhood the greatest excitement, and adding to their

numbers by the harangues occasionally delivered by this ill-fated

madman. At this farm Courtenay stated that 'he would strike the

bloody blow.' A match was then taken from a bean stack, which had

been introduced by one of the party. They next proceeded to a farm

at Herne Hill, where Courtenay requested the inmates to feed his

friends, which request was immediately complied with. Their next

visit was at Dargate Common, where Sir William, taking off his shoes,

said, 'I now stand on my own bottom.' By Sir William's request, his

party went to prayers, and then proceeded to Bossenden farm, where

they supped, and slept in the barn that night. At 3 o'clock, on

Tuesday morning they left, and proceeded to Sittingbourne to

breakfast, where Sir William paid 25s.; they then visited Newnham,

where a similar treat was given at the 'George.' After visiting

Eastling, Throwley, Selwich Lees and Selling, and occasionally

addressing the populace, holding out to them such inducements as are

usually made by persons desirous of creating a disturbance, they

halted, in a chalk pit, to rest, and, on Wednesday evening, arrived

at Culver's farm, called Bossenden, close to the scene of action.

Mr. Curling, having had some of his men enticed from their work,

applied for a warrant for their apprehension. Mears, a constable, in

company with his brother, proceeded to Culver's house, when, on

application being made for the men alluded to, Sir William

immediately shot the young man who accompanied his brother in the

execution of his duty. Such was the excitement, and the desperate

menaces of Sir William and his party, that it became necessary for

the magistrates to interfere to put a stop to the proceedings, by the

capture of the ringleader of the party, from whose advice to his

followers the most serious consequences were likely to ensue. At 12

o'clock, they assembled at a place called the Osier Bed, where every

means were resorted to, to quell the disturbance, but without

success. Sir William defied interruption to his men, and fired on

the Rev. William Handley, of Herne Hill, who, with his brother, was

assisting to take him into custody. They then made their way to

Bossenden Wood, where they lay in ambush; but, as no means appeared

to present themselves, by which the ringleader could safely be

secured, he being evidently mad, and in possession of loaded

firearms, threatening to shoot the first man who interfered with him,

it became necessary to apply for the assistance of the 45th regiment,

stationed in Canterbury barracks. On the arrival of a detachment of

this regiment, they proceeded to the wood, where the party was

awaiting their arrival.

"A few minutes previous to the attack, Sir William loudly halloed to

his companions, supposed for the purpose of getting them prepared for

the fight.

"Sir William, on perceiving his opponents, advanced with the greatest

_sang froid_, and deliberately shot Lieutenant Bennett of the

regiment, before his own men. This occasioned a return from the man

covering his officer, who advanced, and shot Sir William, who fell,

and died instantly. The excitement, at that period, occasioned by

each party losing its commander, caused a desperate attack, which

terminated in the death of ten persons, besides the brother of the

constable shot in the morning, and several others seriously wounded,

of some of whom little hopes are entertained of their recovery. The

weapons in the hands of the followers of Sir William, were chiefly,

if not altogether, heavy bludgeons."

The following, from a correspondent, goes far to show the delusions

shared by this maniac and his followers:

"The mention of this lad's name, reminds me that his mother is said

to have done more than any other person in the parish to foster and

encourage the belief which she herself entertained, that Thom was our

blessed Redeemer and Saviour. So steadfast was she in her belief,

that when, after the battle in the wood, a neighbour went to tell her

'the awful news,' that Thom was killed, and her own son wounded, she

would not credit the information. 'Sir William killed!' said she,

'no, no, you can't kill him; it is not the truth, it is not

possible.' The reply to her was: 'It is the truth, and it is

possible.' She again asserted that it was not possible. Again the

reply was: 'It is possible, and it is as true as that your poor boy

has got a shot in his thigh.' Then, and not till then, would she

credit that her son was hurt. But as to Sir William, she still

remained incredulous, saying: 'Mind, three days will show you and all

the world what Sir William is. When that time is elapsed, you will

see whether he is not that which he professes to be.'

"Of the general belief in the neighbourhood that he was the Saviour,

I saw a strong proof in some writing which I found on the parsonage

barn at Herne Hill. It has been there for the last ten days, and is

said to be in the handwriting of Wills. On the left side of the door

is written, in one long line, these words, with spelling and capitals

just as I have copied them:--'If you newho was on earth your harts

Wod turn'; then in another: 'But dont Wate to late'; and then, in a

third, 'They how R.' On the right side of the door is the following:

'O that great day of gudgment, is close at hand'; in another: 'it now

peps in the dor every man according to his woks'; and in a third:

'Our rites and liberties We Will have.' I mentioned some of them in

a former communication. At one of the places where he ordered

provisions for his followers, it was in these words: 'Feed my sheep.'

To convince his disciples of his divine commission, he is said to

have pointed his pistol at the stars, and told him that he would make

them fall from their spheres. He then fired at some particularly

bright star; and, his pistol having been rammed down with tow steeped

in oil, and sprinkled over with steel filings, produced, on being

fired, certain bright sparkles of light, which he immediately said

were falling stars. Again, in the early part of his progress on

Monday, he went away from his followers with a man named Wills, and

two of the other rioters, saying to them, 'Do you stay here, whilst I

go yonder,' pointing to a bean stack, 'and strike the bloody blow.'

When they arrived at the stack, to which they marched with a flag,

the flag bearer laid his flag on the ground, and knelt down to pray.

The others then put in, it is said, a lighted match; but Thom seized

it and forbade it to burn, and the fire was not kindled. This, on

their return to the company, was announced as a miracle worked by the

Saviour. There is another of his acts, which he mentioned as one of

the proofs of his Divinity, that I confess myself at a loss to

understand. After he had fired one shot at the constable, Mears, and

subsequently chopped at him with his dirk, he went into the house,

seized a loaded pistol, and on coming out, said: 'Now, am I not your

Saviour?' The words were scarcely out of his mouth, when he pulled

the trigger of his pistol, and shot Mears a second time."

He administered a parody on the blessed Sacrament, in bread and water to

his followers, before the encounter and harangued them. He told them on

this occasion, as he did on many others, that there was great opposition

in the land, and, indeed, throughout the world, but, that if they would

follow him, he would lead them on to glory. He told them he had come to

earth on a cloud, and that, on a cloud, he should some day be removed

from them; that neither bullets nor weapons could injure him, or them, if

they had but faith in him as their Saviour: and that if 10,000 soldiers

came against them, they would either turn to their side, or fall dead at

his command. At the end of his harangue, Alexander Foad, a respectable

farmer, and one of his followers, knelt down at his feet and worshipped

him; and so did another man named Brankford. Foad then asked Thom

whether he should follow him in the body, or go home and follow him in

heart. To this Thom replied: "Follow me in the body." Foad then sprang

on his feet in an ecstasy of joy, and, with a voice of great animation,

exclaimed: "Oh, be joyful! Oh, be joyful! The Saviour has accepted me.

Go on--go on, till I drop, I'll follow thee!" Brankford was also

accepted as a follower, and exhibited the same enthusiastic fervour,

while Thom uttered terrific denunciations of eternal torture in hell fire

against all who should refuse to follow him.

With the death of Thom and his deluded followers, the excitement calmed

down, and entirely subsided after the trial of nine prisoners, which took

place at Maidstone, on the 9th of August, before Lord Denman. They were

charged on two counts: first, with aiding and abetting John Thom, _alias_

Courtenay, in the murder of Nicholas Mears, on the 31st of May, and

second, with being principals in the murder. Lord Denman charged the

jury that, if they were of opinion that Thom was of unsound mind, so

that, if he had been put upon his trial, he could not have been convicted

of murder, the principal being acquitted, the accessories must also be

acquitted, and the prisoners could not be found guilty on the first

count. This, the jury acquiesced in, and brought in a verdict of

"guilty" on the second count, with a strong recommendation to mercy on

account of the infatuation under which they were led astray by Courtenay.

Lord Denman pronounced sentence of death upon the prisoners, but added,

that their lives would be spared. Two were sentenced to transportation

for life; one to transportation for ten years; and the remainder to be

imprisoned for one year, and kept to hard labour in the House of

Correction, one month in solitary confinement.

CHAPTER VI.

The Queen's Coronation--The Carriages--The fair and festivities in Hyde

Park--The Marquis of Waterford's drive--His pranks at Melton

Mowbray--Steam carriages--Dog carriages--Grand dinner at Guildhall.

The next event which occupied the public attention was the Queen's

Coronation, which took place on the 28th of June. It was, like the "Half

Crownation" of William IV., a much plainer affair than that of George the

Magnificent, the walking procession of all the estates of the realm, and

the banquet in Westminster Hall, with all the feudal services thereunto

belonging, being wholly dispensed with. The day began badly, with a cold

shower about 8 a.m., but it cleared off, and the sun shone out fitfully,

throughout the time the ceremony occupied--the head of the procession

starting from Buckingham Palace at 10 a.m., and the Queen reaching

Westminster Abbey at half-past eleven. Next to the Queen herself, the

principal attraction in the procession was the equipages and liveries of

the Ambassadors Extraordinary, chief among which was the carriage of

Marshal Soult (who represented France), which had formerly belonged to

the last great prince of the House of Conde, the father of the Duc de

Bourbon, and which, by its superior magnificence, eclipsed all other

vehicles. Besides which, it held the Duke of Dalmatia, Wellington's old

foe, who had now come to visit, in peace, the country he had so manfully

fought against.

Of the ceremony itself, I say nothing--everything was done decorously and

in order. It took a long time, for it was a quarter to four when the

royal procession reformed and took its way through the nave of the abbey.

The Queen entertained a party of 100 at dinner; and, in the evening,

witnessed, from the roof of her palace, the fireworks discharged in the

Green Park. The Duke of Wellington gave a grand ball at Apsley House,

for which cards of invitation were issued for 2,000 persons.

As an indication of the numbers of people set down at the Abbey, I may

mention that the carriages which were ordered to proceed (after setting

down) to the south side of Westminster Bridge, occupied a line from the

bridge to Kennington Cross (more than a mile). The carriages which were

to proceed, after setting down their company, to the west side of London,

formed a line nearly to Kensington (a mile and a half). Those ordered to

wait in the Strand extended, in double lines, to St. Mary le Strand, and

those directed to wait in Bird Cage Walk, St. James's Park, occupied (in

double rows) the whole line to Buckingham Palace.

There was a balloon ascent from Hyde Park, which was a comparative

failure, for it descended in Marylebone Lane, quite done up with its

short journey, and another sent up from Vauxhall, which was more

successful. There were grand displays of fireworks in the Green and Hyde

Parks, and all London was most beautifully and brilliantly illuminated.

But the great thing was the Fair in Hyde Park, which had official leave

to exist for two days--but which, in fact, lasted four. The area

allotted to it comprised nearly one third of the Park, extending from

near the margin of the Serpentine to within a short distance of Grosvenor

Gate. The best account I know of this Fair is in _The Morning Chronicle_

of 29 June, and I here reproduce it:

"Of all the scenes which we witnessed, connected with the Coronation,

probably this was the most lively, and that in which there was the

least confusion, considering the mass of persons collected together.

Our readers are already aware that the Fair was permitted to take

place by the Government, on the petition of the present holders of

the show which formerly belonged to the celebrated Richardson; and it

was to their care, together with that of Mr. Mallalieu, the

Superintendent of Police, that its general management was entrusted.

In justice to those gentlemen, we must say that the arrangements made

for the accommodation of the public were admirable, while they were

carried out with the very greatest success. The booths were arranged

in a square form, and covered a space of ground about 1,400 feet long

and about 1,000 feet broad.

"They were arranged in regular rows, ample space being allowed

between them for the free passage of the people; and they consisted

of every variety of shape, while they were decked with flags of all

colours and nations. One portion of the fair was set apart

exclusively for ginger-bread and fancy booths, while those rows by

which these were surrounded were appropriated to the use of showmen,

and of persons who dealt in the more substantial articles of

refreshment. Of the latter description, however, the readers would

recognize many as regular frequenters of such scenes; but, probably,

the booth which attracted the greatest attention, from its magnitude,

was that erected by Williams, the celebrated boiled beef monger of

the Old Bailey. This was pitched in the broadest part of the fair,

and immediately adjoining Richardson's show; and, at the top of it

was erected a gallery for the use of those who were desirous of

witnessing the fireworks in the evening, and, to which, access was to

be procured by payment of a small sum.

"While this person, and the no less celebrated Alger, the proprietor

of the Crown and Anchor, were astonishing the visitors with the

enormous extent of the accommodation which they could afford the

public, others set up claims of a character more agreeable to the age

in the exceedingly tasty mode in which they had decorated their

temporary houses. Of these, that which struck us as most to be

admired, was a tent erected by a person named Bull, of Hackney, the

interior of which, decorated with fluted pillars of glazed calico,

had a really beautiful appearance. It would be useless, however, to

attempt to particularize every booth, for each held out its alluring

attractions to the gaping crowd with equal force, and each appeared

to be sufficiently patronized by the friends of its proprietor.

"Not a few, in addition to the solid attractions of eating and

drinking, held out those of a more 'airy' description, and, in many,

it was announced that a 'grand ball' would be held in the evening,

'to commence at six o'clock'; whilst, in others, bands of music were

heard 'in full play,' joining their sweet sounds to the melodious

beatings of gongs and shouting through trumpets of the adjoining

shows. In attractions of this kind we need only say that the fair

was, in most respects, fully equal to any other at which we ever had

the good fortune to be present, whether at Greenwich, or Croydon, or

in any other of the suburban or metropolitan districts. Beef and

ham, beer and wine, chickens and salad, were all equally plentiful,

and the taste of the most fastidious might be pleased as to the

quality, or the quantity, of the provisions provided for him. In the

pastry cooks' booths, the usual variety of gingerbread nuts, and gilt

cocks in breeches, and kings and queens, were to be procured; while,

in some of them, the more refined luxury of ices was advertised, an

innovation upon the ancient style of refreshment which we, certainly,

had never expected to see introduced into the canvas shops of the

fair pastry cooks.

"While these _marchands_ were holding out their various attractions

to the physical tastes of the assembled multitude, the showkeepers

were not less actively employed in endeavouring to please the eye of

those who were willing to enjoy their buffooneries, or their wonders.

Fat boys and living skeletons, Irish giants and Welsh dwarfs,

children with two heads, and animals without any heads at all, were

among the least of the wonders to be seen; while the more rational

exhibition of wild beasts joined with the mysterious wonders of the

conjuror and the athletic performances of tumblers, in calling forth

expressions of surprise and delight from the old, as well as from the

young, who were induced to contribute their pennies 'to see the

show.'

"Nor were these the only modes of procuring amusement which presented

themselves. On the Serpentine river a number of boats had been

launched, which had been procured from the Thames, and watermen were

employed, during the whole day, in rowing about those who were

anxious to enjoy the refreshing coolness of the water after the

turmoil and heat of the fair. Ponies and donkeys were in the

outskirts of the fair, plentiful, for the use of the young who were

inclined for equestrian exercise, while archery grounds and throw

sticks held out their attractions to the adepts in such practices,

and roundabouts and swings were ready to gratify the tastes of the

adventurous. Kensington Gardens were, as usual, open to the public,

and not a few who were fearful of joining in the crowd, contented

themselves here, in viewing the gay scene from a distance. Timorous,

however, as they might be, of personal inconvenience, they did not

fail to enjoy the opportunities which were afforded them of looking

into the book of fate; and we observed many of the fairest parts of

the creation busily engaged in deep and private confabulations with

those renowned seers, the gypsies.

"With regard to those persons who visited the fair, we must say we

never saw a more orderly body. From an early hour the visitors were

flocking in; but it was not until Her Majesty had gone to Westminster

Abbey that the avenues approaching Hyde Park became crowded. Then,

indeed, the countless thousands of London appeared to be poured

forth, and all seemed to be bound for the same point of destination.

Thousands who had taken up their standing places at Hyde Park Corner,

poured through the gate; whilst many who had assumed positions at a

greater distance from the Parks, passed through the squares and

through Grosvenor Gate. Every avenue was soon filled, every booth

was soon crammed full of persons desirous of procuring refreshment

and rest after the fatigue of standing so long in the crowd to view

the procession.

"These, however, were not the only persons who joined the throng.

Every cab, coach, or omnibus which had been left disengaged, appeared

to be driving to the same point, full of passengers. Fulham, Putney,

Mile End and Brixton alike contributed their vehicles to carry the

people to the Parks, and thousands from the very extremity of the

City were to be seen flocking towards the Fair. All seemed bent on

the same object, that of procuring amusement, and work seemed to have

been suspended, as if by common consent. While the East-end thrust

forth her less aristocratic workmen, the West-end was not altogether

idle in furnishing its quota to the throng, and we noticed many

really elegantly dressed ladies and gentlemen alight from their

carriages to view the enlivening scene; and many of them, who were,

apparently, strangers to such exhibitions, were, evidently, not a

little amused at the grotesque imitations of those amusements in

which the aristocracy delight.

"Carriages of every description were admitted into the Parks, and the

splendid carriage of an aristocrat was not unfrequently followed by

the tilted waggon of some remover of furniture, with its load of men,

women and children, who had come to 'see the fun.' All seemed,

alike, bent on amusement; all, alike, appeared to throw aside those

restraints which rank, fashion, or station had placed upon them, and

to enter fully into the enjoyment of the busy scene in which they

were actors. The delightful locality of the Fair, the bright

sunbeams playing upon the many-coloured tents, the joyous laughter of

the people, untouched by debauchery, and unseduced by the gross

pleasures of the appetite; the gay dresses of the women, all in their

best; joined in making the scene one which must live long in the

recollection of those who witnessed it. All appeared to remember

that this was the day of the Coronation of a Queen, so youthful, so

beautiful, so pure, and all appeared to be determined that no act of

insubordination or of disorder on their part should sully the bright

opening of a reign so hopeful, and from which so much happiness is to

be expected.

"We have already said that the arrangements of the fair were

excellent; but, while these called forth our admiration, the

exceeding attention paid to the public by the police force appeared

to prevent the possibility of accident or robbery. All gambling

booths and thimble riggers had, of course, been necessarily excluded,

but we fear it was not possible to shut out all those persons whose

recollection of the laws of _meum_ and _tuum_ was somewhat blunted.

We heard of numerous losses of small sums, and of handkerchiefs and

other trifles, but, throughout the day, we gained no information of

any robbery which was of sufficient extent to produce more than a

temporary inconvenience to the person robbed. A temporary police

station was erected in the grounds, in which Mr. Mallalieu and a

considerable portion of his men were in attendance during the day;

but, although there were, necessarily, some cases in which slight

acts of intemperance were visible, nothing of any serious importance

occurred during the whole of the early part of the day.

"The orderly conduct of the people, which we have already described

as having been observable during the morning, was maintained through

the rest of the day. Notwithstanding that the crowd, at three

o'clock, had increased tenfold, no disturbance nor riot occurred.

The return of Her Majesty attracted a few from the crowd, but nearly

every one returned, and all remained for the grand attraction of this

part of the day's amusement--the fireworks. As evening closed in,

the fatigue of the people rendered rest, as well as refreshment,

necessary, and every booth was, in a short time, crowded with eager

inquiries for eatables and drinkables. The dancing booths were

crowded to suffocation, and the viands of the purveyors of grog were

soon put into requisition."

The next day was stormy and wet at first, but afterwards turned out fine,

and the Fair was crowded. On the third day, a booth caught fire, but no

great damage was done. On the fourth, and last day, the Queen drove as

close to it as she well could do, and all the booths were cleared away

that night.

The Marquis of Waterford still continued his mad pranks, and he was

brought before Mr. Dyer, the Magistrate at Marlborough Street, on 30

June, charged with being drunk and disorderly in Piccadilly at 5 o'clock

in the morning.

Policeman Ellis, C 91, saw the Marquis, with two or three other persons

and a woman in his cab, driving down the Haymarket, and committing the

insane freak of making the foot pavement his road. The policeman had no

hope of overtaking the Marquis, from the speed at which his lordship was

driving; he, however, followed as fast as he could, and, when the Marquis

turned into Piccadilly, he saw his lordship again pull his horse on the

pavement, and drive on, to the imminent danger of foot passengers. The

cab went against some posts, and this brought the horse to a standstill.

The policeman ran up, and after much difficulty and opposition on the

part of the Marquis's friends, he succeeded in lodging his lordship in

the station house. His lordship was too drunk to allow his being

enlarged on bail.

In explanation, the Marquis said he had a young horse in his cab, which

was very difficult to drive. The animal, having a heavy load behind him,

became unmanageable, and went, in spite of all he could do, on the

pavement.

The policeman, in the most positive manner, said he saw the Marquis pull

his horse upon the foot pavement, and whip the animal to make him go the

faster.

The Marquis declared, "upon his honour," he did not go more than five

yards upon the pavement.

The policeman declared the Marquis drove about 100 yards on the pavement

in the Haymarket, and about 100 yards more upon the pavement in

Piccadilly. The concussion against the post was so great, that the woman

was thrown six yards out of the cab.

Marquis: I was thrown out myself. The fact is, I consider this charge to

be quite unwarranted. No one was hurt, and the policeman exceeded his

duty in taking me to the station house.

Mr. Dyer: The policeman states you were intoxicated.

Marquis: Why, I had been about all night, and I don't think I was very

sober.

Policeman: You had your collar and shirt open, and your chest was quite

exposed.