though it be, to the all-absorbing subject of Gossip, the Royal
Marriage--and first, and foremost, comes the Royal Wedding Cake, which
weighed nearly 300lbs. It was three yards in circumference and about 14
inches deep. This was the cake itself, which, according to a
contemporary account, "is covered with sugar of the purest white; on the
top is seen the figure of Britannia in the act of blessing the
illustrious bride and bridegroom, who are dressed, somewhat
incongruously, in the costume of ancient Rome. These figures are not
quite a foot in height; at the feet of His Serene Highness is the effigy
of a dog, said to denote fidelity; and, at the feet of the Queen is a
pair of turtle doves, denoting the felicities of the marriage state. A
Cupid is writing in a volume expanded on his knees, the date of the
marriage, and various other Cupids are sporting and enjoying themselves
as such interesting little individuals generally do. These little
figures are well modelled. On the top of the cake are numerous bouquets
of white flowers tied with true lover's knots of white satin ribbon,
intended for presents to the guests at the nuptial breakfast."
On 6 Feb. the Prince landed at Dover from Ostend, and on the 7th went to
Canterbury; on the 8th he reached London and Buckingham Palace; and, on
the 10th they were married at the Chapel Royal, St. James'; spent the
honeymoon at Windsor, and made their _rentree_ into society on 26 Feb.,
when they went, in State, to Drury Lane Theatre.
Duelling, although on the wane, was far from dead. I could have given
numerous instances of duels in the earlier part of this reign, but have
refrained, as they were of no particular interest; but the following is
an exception, as it relates to one who, in after years, was to make a
great name in history for himself.
_Times_, 4 March:
BOW STREET.--Shortly after the opening of the court yesterday
morning, and before any of the night charges had been disposed of,
Prince Louis Napoleon and Le Comte Leon, who is said to be the son of
Bonaparte, to whom he hears a striking resemblance, were brought
before Mr. Jardine, charged by Nicholas Pearce, inspector of the A
division, with having met at Wimbledon Common, and attempted to
commit a breach of the peace, by fighting a duel with swords and
pistols.
Lieut.-Col. Jeremiah Ratcliffe, 6th Dragoons, as second to the last
defendant, and Col. Charles Parquin, second to the Prince, together
with Count D'Orsay, and a servant, named Mertial Kien, with aiding
and assisting the principals in the intended combat.
Previous to the evidence being taken, two brace of pistols, with
powder flasks, and a pair of rapiers, were laid on the table for the
inspection of the magistrate.
Inspector Pearce, being sworn, said, about 2 o'clock this morning he
received information from Superintendent Baker, that certain parties
had an intention of meeting in a hostile manner on Wimbledon Common,
some of whom were to start from Fenton's Hotel and the others from
Carlton Gardens; in consequence of which I went into St. James's
Street, where I saw a post-chaise drive up to the door of the hotel,
about 7 o'clock, but I could not ascertain if any person had got into
it. After delaying a short time, it moved slowly on in the direction
of Piccadilly, followed by Col. Ratcliffe, and stopped again at
Tattersall's, where another person followed towards Hyde Park Corner.
The chaise was then driven westward, and I followed it on horseback;
but, previous to arriving at Hyde Park Corner, the defendant
Ratcliffe passed, on horseback, in Piccadilly.
Mr. Jardine: What hour might it be then?
Witness: It was then nearly 7 o'clock. On arriving at the Common, I
saw the entire party collected near to the Windmill, and the
post-chaise proceeding in that direction. Having dismounted, and
left the horse in the care of a countryman, I proceeded to where the
chaises were standing, and then I saw the defendants walking away,
from them, some yards down, to a hollow part of the ground, each
party apparently making arrangements about the duel. They then
stopped, and as I approached Col. Parquin, seeing two letters in one
hand, and the two swords produced, in the other, I took them from
him. At that time, the pistols produced, in a case, were lying on
the ground, near to another brace, which were wrapped up in paper.
Some conversation passed between Count D'Orsay and Col. Parquin,
which appeared to be whether the combat was to be fought with pistols
or with swords, and the Count asked me what I wanted; my authority
for interfering; and who it was that gave me information of the
circumstance. At that moment, Inspector Partridge, accompanied by
Sergt. Otway and other constables, came up, and, on Col. Ratcliffe
taking the pistols from the case, he was taken into custody. I
instantly went to him, and, shewing him my staff, told him I was an
officer, and that I was, in duty, bound to take him into custody, for
attempting to commit a breach of the peace. Count D'Orsay requested
to be told who it was who had given the information, and, on being
refused, the entire party were quietly conveyed to the station house.
Mr. Jardine: Have you since ascertained that the pistols contained
powder and balls?
Witness: Yes, Sir; there are balls in them, and caps upon them.
Colonel Ratcliffe declared there was no powder in the pistols, which
belonged to him, as could be seen; for it had been arranged that the
duel was to be fought with swords.
Mr. Jardine inquired if any of the defendants, who were foreigners,
and not sufficiently conversant with the English language, would wish
to hear the evidence read over to them in French?
Le Comte Leon replied in French, that he could not sufficiently
understand the evidence that had been given, but he was quite
satisfied that all the proceedings were perfectly legal and correct.
Prince Louis said, he was prepared, if required, to enter into an
explanation of the circumstances which gave rise to the offence with
which he was charged.
Mr. Jardine did not wish to hear any statement on either side, as his
duty was only to prevent a breach of the peace, and he hoped the
defendants were prepared with the sureties he would require, to
prevent further inconvenience.
Count D'Orsay said, he had come prepared with bail, which he thought
there could be no objection to.
Prince Louis requested that the two letters, which had been taken
from his friend, should be delivered up to him.
Mr. Jardine immediately delivered up the letters, saying he should
require the principals to enter into bail, themselves in 500 pounds
each, and two sureties in 250 pounds each, to keep the peace with all
Her Majesty's subjects, and particularly with each other, for the
next 12 months.
Count D'Orsay: One surety in 500 pounds, would, perhaps, answer as
well as two in 250 pounds each, if it meets with your approbation.
Mr. Jardine said he had no objection to such a course, and, if the
other defendants were prepared with bail, it might be taken.
Col. Ratcliffe said his surety was present.
Mr. Jardine: The bail I shall require is, that each of the other
defendants enter into his own recognizance in 100 pounds, and two
sureties in 50 pounds each, to keep the peace for the same period,
with the exception of the defendant Kien, who may put in his own
recognizances in 100 pounds.
Mr. Joshua Bates, of Portland Place, having offered himself as surety
for Prince Louis Napoleon and Col. Parquin, was accepted.
Mr. Fenton was accepted as bail for Le Comte Leon, and the Hon.
Francis Baring, M.P., became surety for Col. Ratcliffe and Count
D'Orsay.
The Chief Clerk having conducted the parties into the Magistrate's
private room, where they were furnished with the requisite notices,
returned to the Court to take directions respecting the disposal of
the weapons and other articles which were found upon the defendants
on their being taken into custody.
Mr. Jardine said he could make no order about them, but he thought
that, as the defendants had put in bail, there could be very little
apprehension of their committing a similar offence, if they were
restored to their proper owners.
It appeared that the two letters had been written by the Comte Leon
to his cousin, as he was styled, demanding that he would retract
certain expressions respecting their relationship, which he was
alleged to have made use of; and, his not complying, gave rise to the
quarrel.
On the 10th of April the offer of Messrs. Grissell and Peto was
accepted, to erect the Nelson Column in Trafalgar Square, within two
years, for a sum of 17,860 pounds.
There is a curious police case as to the habits and customs of
Noblemen's servants, which may be interesting to my readers. It was
brought before the Magistrate at Queen Square on 14 April, when the
House Steward of the Earl of Galloway applied for summonses against
the footmen attending the carriages of Viscount Melbourne, the
Marquis of Normanby, the Marquis of Lansdowne and Lord Tankerville,
for assault and damage.
It appeared from the statement of the applicant, that the servants
attending the carriages of peers, to the House of Lords, have a
waiting room, which they call their Club room, and that they have
formed themselves into a society, governed by one of their body, whom
they call their "Constable." They have a set of rules, dated as far
back as 1759, obedience to which is strictly enforced under pain of
certain fines.
On Friday evening, the coachman of the Earl of Galloway set his
lordship down at the House of Lords, with orders to wait. The
footman, who was, it appears, a new comer, was, on entering the club
room, called upon to pay a fine, or "footing" of two shillings, to be
spent in beer, but he replied that he had no money about him; and, on
their insisting on its being paid, he left the room, and got on the
carriage box, with the coachman, but the "members," headed by their
Constable, with his staff of office, pursued him, insisted upon his
coming down, and were about to pull him off the box, when the
coachman told them that his fellow servant had no money with him,
but, if they would go, he would be answerable that it should be paid.
They, however, insisted that it should be spent in their Club, and
that the new servant should be present.
Mr. Burrell: How many were there of them?
Applicant said there were, he understood, 10 or 12, but it was only
intended to proceed against the four ringleaders. The coachman,
finding that they were determined to have his fellow servant off the
box, drove on a little way, and, on returning to his place, Lord
Normanby's carriage ran against his, and seriously damaged it. The
footman was, at length, dragged from the box, and very roughly
handled: his foot was hurt. The coachman was also struck with the
long "staff" carried by the "constable."
Samuel Linturn, the footman, corroborated this statement.
The summonses were granted.
It was stated that Lord Normanby, at once, offered to make good the
damage done, but this the Earl of Galloway declined, having
determined that the whole matter should be publicly investigated by a
magistrate.
Two days afterwards, four footmen in the employ of Lords Melbourne,
Lansdowne, Normanby and Tankerville appeared to answer the summonses.
The complainant, in the course of his evidence, said that he had been
to the House of Lords on several previous occasions, but had never
been asked for anything, nor did he even know of the existence of
such a room. Turk asked him whose servant he was, but he refused to
tell him. Turk, at the time, had, in his hand, a pointed stick,
which he called a staff; he made no demand for money then, but went
away, and the complainant got on the box with the coachman, who took
the coach to the stand. Turk, accompanied by several others, then
came up. The Marquis of Bute's footman said he would pay the fine,
or footing, and placed two shillings on the footboard of the carriage
for that purpose. This did not satisfy them. Several persons,
amongst whom were the defendants, got upon the coach, and swore that
if he did not come down, they would pull him down. There were
several police about, and, although he called upon them for
assistance, they would not come.
Both he and the coachman told them that he had no money, and the
coachman said he would secure them payment, if they would go and
drink the beer, but they insisted upon the complainant's presence in
the "club." He still refused, and then they brought a long pole,
which they called a "horse." The coachman drove up Abingdon Street
to avoid them, but several of the carriages drew out of the rank, and
followed them, and, as the coachman turned to regain his station,
Lord Normanby's carriage was driven against him, and the Earl of
Galloway's carriage sustained considerable damage; it was forced on
the footway, and was obliged to stop, upon which, several of the
footmen ran, and seized the horses by their heads. The defendants
dragged the complainant off the box; one had hold of his foot, and
another, who seized upon his greatcoat, tore the buttons from it, and
from his gaiters and breeches. They then placed him upon the pole,
which they called "putting him on horseback."
They then rode him into the room mentioned, where Lord Holland's
footman sat as chairman, and decided that he should pay two
shillings. He borrowed the money from Lord Lansdowne's servant, and
was about to leave the room, but he was forced to resume his seat, as
he was told he could, from the room, easily hear when the carriage
was called, and that "he must sit and drink his beer." He was also
told that he was now sworn in, and had only to kiss the staff, which
was presented to him, but he refused to do it. He was detained
three-quarters of an hour, against his will. His foot was hurt, and
the coachman was injured by a blow from the "staff."
The coachman corroborated the evidence, and the defendants were fined
ten shillings each.
On the 29th April, there was an uproar in the Italian Opera House, which
might have expanded into another O.P. riot of 1809. The Impresario, M.
Laporte, had not engaged Tamburini, because his terms were too high, and
the singer's friends were highly indignant. On this evening, at the
conclusion of the opera of _I Puritani_, several voices began calling for
M. Laporte, with shouts of "Tamburini!" Poor M. Laporte appeared and
began a speech in which he sought to excuse himself, but it was drowned
by a torrent of groans and hisses, which came, principally, from the
occupants of the "omnibus" box. {128} M. Laporte so clearly perceived
this, that, in a few minutes, his speech to the audience merged into a
private conversation with its occupants. The noise increased, and M.
Laporte declared that he was not to be "intimidated," a word which roused
the "omnibus" party to perfect fury. He retired, and the curtain rose
for the ballet, in which a new dancer was to have made her appearance.
The noise, now, became terrible; yells, hisses, and all sorts of uncouth
sounds were blended in frightful discord. The dancers, perceiving all
attempts at a performance were in vain, and, at the same time, being
afraid to quit the stage, sat quietly, all round.
Again and again Laporte came forward, and tried to bring matters to a
settlement, and once he ventured to say, that, as manager, he had a right
to engage performers at his own discretion, and that he was not to be
responsible to an audience--which, it is needless to say, added fuel to
fire. Then he told them his engagements would not allow him to employ
Tamburini, which meant ruin to him, but it only provoked more noise.
Then he appealed to their better feelings by telling them of the many
years he had catered for their amusement, and this did bring him some
support, for cries of "Shame," "No Tamburini," and "No Intimidation,"
were heard, but this only had the effect of dividing the audience, and
increasing the hubbub.
Once again poor Laporte came forward, and talked of engaging Tamburini on
"Conditions." This word upset all, and the Tamburinists asked: "Will you
engage him? Yes, or No?" Laporte said he would make proposals, and, if
those proposals, etc. This would not do; "Yes, or No?" said his
persevering interrogators. "Say 'No,'" said his supporters. He began
talking about terms. "Same terms as last year," shouted all the
"Omnibus" party, upon which he retired, without proposing anything
satisfactory. Everyone was getting tired, when, at last, a gentleman, in
a box opposite the "Omnibus," stepped over the front of his box on to the
stage, and was followed by a party; the "Omnibus" party entered the stage
from the opposite side, and, at one o'clock, the Tamburinists had taken
possession, and waved their hats triumphantly, on the stage, as the
curtain fell.
It was this episode that the Rev. R. H. Barham has immortalized in his
_Ingoldsby Legends_, under the title of "A Row in an Omnibus (box),"
beginning:
Doldrum the Manager sits in his chair,
With a gloomy brow and dissatisfied air,
And he says, as he slaps his hand on his knee,
'I'll have nothing to do with Fiddle-de-dee!
'--But Fiddle-de-dee sings clear and loud,
And his trills and his quavers astonish the crowd.
Such a singer as he,
You'll nowhere see,
They'll all be screaming for Fiddle-de-dee!
'--Though Fiddle-de-dee sings loud and clear,
And his tones are sweet, yet his terms are dear!
The glove won't fit!
The deuce a bit.
I shall give an engagement to Fal-de-ral-tit!'"
CHAPTER XIII.
The Mulready Envelope--Plans of Royal Exchange decided on--Fire at York
Minster--Queen shot at by Oxford--Oxford in Bedlam--Scientific
Agriculture--Electro-metallurgy--Embossed envelope--Sale of Louis
Napoleon's effects.
On the 1st of May, the Post Office issued the long expected postal
envelope designed by W. Mulready, R.A., and the opinion of _The Times_
may be taken as the expression of most people's feelings about it.
_Times_, 2 May.--"We have been favoured with a sight of one of the
new stamp covers, and we must say we never beheld anything more
ludicrous than the figures or allegorical device by which it is
marked with its official character--why not add embellished?
Cruickshank could scarcely produce anything so laughable. It is,
apparently, a spirited attempt to imitate the hieroglyphic which
formed one of the ornaments to _Moore's Almanack_; Britannia is
seated in the centre, with the lion couchant (Whiggish) at her feet;
her arms are extended, scattering little flying children to some
elephants on the left; and, on the right, to a group of gentlemen,
some of whom, at all events, are not enclosed in _envelopes_, writing
on their knees, evidently on account of a paucity of tables. There
are, besides, sundry figures, who, if they were to appear in the
streets of London, or any of our highways, would be liable to the
penalties of the Vagrant Act for indecent exposure. Under the
tableland by which these figures are supported, some evidence of a
laudable curiosity is depicted, by three or four ladies, who are
represented reading a billet doux, or valentine, and some little
boys, evidently learning to spell, by the mental exertion which their
anxious faces disclose. One serious omission we must notice. Why
have those Mercuries in red jackets, who traverse London and its
environs on lame ponies, been omitted? We must admit that, as they
have been, recently, better mounted, that is one reason why they
should not appear in this Government picture."
But the reader can judge how far this description is borne out.
[Picture: Mulready envelope]
As a matter of fact, it was so universally disapproved of by the public,
and was the object of so much ridicule, as to necessitate the destruction
of nearly all the vast number prepared for issue. To do this, a machine
had to be specially constructed; the attempt to do the work by fire, in
close stoves (fear of robbery forbade the use of open ones), having
absolutely failed. They are now somewhat scarce, but are extensively
forged. It was satirized and laughed at by all, and a contemporary
criticism, which has been reproduced in _The Philatelist_, vol. vii., p.
145, is very amusing:
"Britannia is sending her messengers forth
To the East, to the West, to the South, to the North:
At her feet is a lion wot's taking a nap,
And a dish-cover rests on her legs and her lap.
To the left is a Mussulman writing a letter,
His knees form a desk, for the want of a better;
Another believer's apparently trying
To help him in telling the truth, or in lying.
Two slaves 'neath their burden seem ready to sink,
But a sly-looking elephant 'tips us the wink';
His brother behind, a most corpulent beast,
Just exhibits his face, like the moon in a mist.
On each is a gentleman riding astraddle,
With neat Turkey carpets in lieu of a saddle;
The camels, behind, seem disposed for a lark,
The taller's a well-whisker'd, fierce-looking shark.
An Arab, arrayed with a coal-heaver's hat,
With a friend from the desert is holding a chat;
The picture's completed by well-tailed Chinese
A-purchasing opium, and selling of teas.
The minister's navy is seen in the rear--
They long turned their backs on the service--'tis clear
That they now would declare, in their typical way,
That Britannia it is who has done it, not they.
A reindeer and Laplander cutting through snow,
The rate of their progress (down hill) seems to show.
To the right, is the King of the Cannibal Islands,
In the same pantaloons that they wear in the Highlands
Some squaws by his side, with their infantile varments,
And a friend, in the front, who's forgotten his garments.
Frost, Williams and Jones {132} have this moment been hook
And are fixing the day they would choose to be cook'd.
There a planter is giving and watching the tasks
Of two worthy niggers, at work on two casks.
Below, to the left, as designed by Mulready,
Is sorrow's effect on a very fat lady;
While joy at good news may be plainly descried,
In the trio engaged on the opposite side."
[Picture: Left--Lord Monteagle and Mr. Baring, Britannia, Lord
Palmerston. Right--O'Connell and the Duke of Wellington]
There were very many pictorial satires on this unfortunate wrapper, but
none bore so near a resemblance to it as the accompanying illustration by
John Doyle (H.B. Sketches, 26 May, 1840, No. 639). Lord Palmerston, as
Britannia, is dispatching Mercuries with fire and sword, to the east,
typical of the wars in Egypt and China. On the other hand, he sends a
flight of Cupids to Father Mathew, the apostle of Temperance, who was
then doing such good work in Ireland, whilst a man is knocking the bung
out of a whisky barrel. Beneath this group is O'Connell, who is roaring
out "Hurrah for Repeal!" to the horror of the Duke of Wellington, who is
behind him. On the left is Lord Monteagle, late Chancellor of the
Exchequer, ill in bed; whilst his successor, Mr. Baring, reads to him the
result of his policy: "Post Office deliveries in the quarter, 272,000
pounds! Total deficiency in the year, to be made up by new taxation,
2,000,000 pounds!"
On 7 May, the Gresham Committee met to decide on the two plans for the
New Royal Exchange, one prepared by Mr. Cockerell, R.A., and the other by
Mr. Tite, President of the Architectural Society, which was in favour of
the latter by 13 votes to 7. The works were immediately proceeded with.
Talking of one fire seems to lead on to another, for on 20 May, York
Minster was for the second time visited with a conflagration--this time,
however, it was caused accidentally, and not the work of an incendiary.
The following extract from a letter dated York, 21 May, gives a graphic
account of the fire, and is of especial interest, as being from the pen
of a spectator.
"You may hear the rumour of the alarming and truly awful calamity
that has occurred in this city, before you receive this. I have
witnessed it, and shall hold the recollection as long as my memory
exists. About 20 minutes to 9 last evening, I was told the Minster
was on fire. I ran out, immediately, towards it, and stood by it,
just as the flames had issued from the top part of the south-west
tower, at a height that an engine could not have played upon. The
fire continued to rage until it had entire possession of the upper
part; flames issuing from every window, and piercing the roof. To
describe the feelings under which I witnessed the devouring flames
preying upon a national monument, which every man must look upon with
admiration, requires a pen more descriptive than mine. Grief, awe,
wonder and admiration were the emotions with which I regarded the
destruction of this venerable church. I soon obtained admission into
the nave of the Cathedral, and observed the first falling down of the
burnt embers. The flames illumined the interior with more than
mid-day brightness; the light, pouring through the crevices, threw a
brilliancy over the scene which imagination cannot paint. The fire,
at this time, was wholly confined to the tower.
"After the space of half an hour, the flooring of the belfry in the
tower began to be forced by the falling bells and lighted beams. At
this period, my nerves were strung to the highest excitement. The
noise was extraordinary. The shouting of the firemen, the roaring of
the flames rushing up the tower with the rapidity of a furnace
draught, sounded in the high and arched space, awful and terrific.
The falling masses of wood, and bells, sounded like the near
discharge of artillery, and were echoed back from the dark passages,
whose glomy shade, and hollow responses seemed mourning at the
funeral pile that burned so fiercely. In one hour, the tower was
completely gutted, and masses of burning timber lay piled against the
south-west door. The upper and under roof, composed principally of
fir timber, covering the nave, as far as the centre tower, had, by
this time, become fired, and burned with extraordinary rapidity. The
firemen, by a well-managed direction of the water, prevented the
flames passing through the west windows of the centre tower, and
continued their exertions at that spot, until the whole of the roof
had fallen in, and lay, in the centre of the aisle, a sea of fire.
"The west doors had, now, become nearly burnt through, and planks
were brought to barricade them, and prevent the rushing of air to fan
the embers to flame, which might have communicated to the organ, and
thence, throughout the whole pile of buildings.
"At 1 o'clock, this morning, I again entered the Cathedral, and then
concluded there was no further danger of destruction. The tower is
standing, also the walls and pillars of the nave; and, beyond that,
the building, I am happy to state, is saved.
"The fire is supposed to have originated from a clock maker, who has
been, for some time past, occupied in repairing the clock in that
tower, who might accidentally, have dropped a spark from a candle."
The repairs in 1829, when the Cathedral was fired by the fanatic, John
Martin, cost 65,000 pounds, which was raised by subscription, and it was
estimated that the cost of the present repairs would amount to about
20,000 pounds.
* * * * *
I know of no other general topic of conversation in May, but, in June,
there was one which set every one in the United Kingdom, and the whole
civilized world, a talking.--THE QUEEN HAD BEEN SHOT AT!!! A little
after 6 p.m. the Queen and Prince Albert left Buckingham Palace for their
before-dinner drive, and had barely got one-third up Constitution Hill,
when a young man, who had been walking backwards and forwards, as the
carriage came near, and was nearly opposite him, turned round, and,
drawing a pistol from his breast, fired at the carriage, which, however,
went on its way. The man then looked back, to see whether any person was
standing near enough to prevent him, and drew another pistol, which he
discharged at the carriage. Prince Albert ordered the postillions to
drive on, and they went as far as Hyde Park Corner, and thence to the
Duchess of Kent's mansion in Belgrave Square, and, after staying there
some little time, drove to Buckingham Palace, where the Queen was
received by crowds of her subjects, cheering vociferously. To say that
she was not affected by the incident would not be true, but she soon
recovered from its effects.
The person who shot at her was a little undersized boy (5ft. 4in.), about
18, named Edward Oxford, a publican's barman, out of work, and as "Satan
finds work for idle hands to do," this boy must needs buy two pistols,
bullets, powder and caps, and begin practising shooting. Whatever made
it enter into his wicked little head to shoot at the Queen, no one knew,
but he did, and was speedily in the hands of the police. He was examined
and re-examined, and finally tried at the Central Criminal Court on 9
July, the trial lasting two days. The defence was the plea of insanity,
and, as no bullets could be found, the jury brought in a verdict of
"Guilty, he being, at the time, insane"; and, in accordance with such
verdict, the judge sentenced him to be imprisoned during Her Majesty's
pleasure.
On the day after being shot at, the Queen and Prince Albert took their
wonted drive in the Park, amidst the shouts of crowded thousands, and the
next day, she, in State, received the congratulations of the Houses of
Lords and Commons, the latter having the first audience. At two o'clock,
the state carriage of the Speaker entered the court, followed by 109
carriages filled with members of the House of Commons; never before, it
was said, was the Speaker followed by so numerous a _cortege_, on the
occasion of presenting an address. As soon as the carriages of the
Commons had left the court, the procession of the Lords began to enter,
the barons first, then the other peers, rising in rank to the royal
dukes. They wore all their stars and garters, and made a brave show.
We get a glimpse of Oxford in prison in a paragraph of the _Times_, 28
Feb., 1843, copied from a Sunday paper.
"As numberless strange and conflicting rumours have been propagated,
relative to the treatment experienced by Edward Oxford, in his place
of incarceration, the curiosity of the visitor on this head was,
naturally, great, especially as it is generally understood that those
who are favoured with permission to visit Bethlehem, are not allowed
to see Oxford. This is not, however, the fact. In a compartment of
the establishment, principally allotted to those who are supposed to
have committed heinous crimes in moments of madness, Edward Oxford is
confined. He is not separated from the other unfortunate persons who
reside in that division of the building, but is allowed free
intercourse with them. Among his comrades are Mr. Pierce, surgeon,
who shot his wife whilst labouring under a paroxysm of madness
produced by jealousy; and Captain Good, whose favourite phantasy is
the assumption of the attribute of Majesty. There is, in the same
division of the establishment, a very diminutive man, who imagines
himself to be Lord John Russell. He amuses himself, nearly all day
long, with knitting. Captain Good is fond of smoking, and Pierce
hovers over the fireplace (a stove) all day. Oxford diverts himself
with drawing and reading. He told the visitor, who furnished us with
this account, that he had taught himself to read French with ease,
during his incarceration, but that he was unable to speak the
language, for want of an opportunity of studying the pronunciation.
He said that he was terribly tired of his sojourn at Bethlehem, and
that he wished he could obtain his liberty, even though he should be
placed under _surveillance_ during the remainder of his life. The
visitor remarked that there was no such thing as _surveillance de
police_ in England. To which Oxford replied that he was perfectly
acquainted with that fact; and that the condition upon which he thus
desired his liberty, was rather an imaginary one, than a strictly
legal and feasible one. Upon another question being put to him, he
said he knew he had been placed in Bethlehem under an impression that
he was mad, but that he was, really, very far from being mad. He
exhibited some of his drawings, which were uncommonly well executed,
and evinced a natural talent for the art. There were a view of
Abbotsford, a horse's head, a portrait of the Virgin Mary, and one or
two other designs, which were, really, most tastefully sketched and
shaded. He appeared pleased when complimented on his proficiency in
the art of drawing, and observed that he was self-taught. In
manners, he is modest, civil and unassuming, and certainly exhibits
not the slightest symptom of insanity. We know that medical
jurisprudence admits that it is very difficult to determine the exact
line of demarcation where sound sense stops, and insanity commences;
but he, who has visited a receptacle for the insane, will speedily
observe the strange state and appearance of the eyes of those whose
intellects are unhinged. This appearance cannot be mistaken either
in lucid or rabid intervals; it is still perceptible, although, of
course, in a greater or lesser degree. Now, the visitor to
Bethlehem, on the occasion here refered to, particularly observed the
eyes of all the inmates; and those of one only showed not the
least--not the most remote symptoms of insanity. This one individual
was Edward Oxford. He appears in his conversation, his manners, his
countenance and his pursuits, as sane, collected, and intelligent as
possible. Of course, the deed for which he is now in durance was not
touched upon; nor was any information relative to that subject sought
of the turnkeys, or keepers. With respect to food, Oxford is not
treated one atom better than his fellow sufferers; the diet of the
inmates of the hospital is plentiful and good, but no favour is shown
to any particular individual, with regard either to quality, or
quantity. Oxford appears to enjoy very excellent health; and he is
remarkably clean and neat in his person."
He was, afterwards, removed to Broadmoor, and I have been told, although
I cannot vouch for the fact, that he was liberated some years ago, and
sent to Australia.
Early in July, we begin to hear of a higher style of farming than that
previously in use, as we find the _Dumfries Courier_ advocating the use
of nitrate of soda as a manure, but, yet, are cautious on the
subject.--"An extensive trial of it will be necessary before any proper
judgment can be pronounced. It is, as yet, unknown whether its effects
are lasting, and until this is ascertained, caution must be used."
Another thing, too, was just beginning to attract
attention--Electro-metallurgy. True it is that Wollaston applied the
principle of the Voltaic pile to the deposition of one metal upon another
in 1801, and it was further developed by Bessemer (1834), Jacobi and the
Elkingtons in 1838, and Spencer in 1839, but for practical utility it was
still in its infancy, and we can see how far it had advanced, in the
following extract from a German Paper: "Munich, 22 July, 1840.--Much is
at present said in the public papers respecting the imitations of medals,
reliefs, etc., by means of a galvanic deposition of copper. This art,
called Galvano plastic, first discovered by Professor Jacobi of St.
Petersburg, and brought to greater perfection by Mr. Spencer, of
Liverpool, and by Professor Von Kebel, of Munich, may justly be classed
as one of the most useful of modern inventions; and, from its great
importance, its employment in technical operations must soon become
general. Indeed, some persons in England, perceiving the great influence
which this invention is destined to have on manufacturing industry, are
already applying it to the production of buttons, arabesques, and various
ornaments in Copper. Herr G. A. Muller, mechanician of Leipsic, has
recently called attention to the application of Galvano plastic to
typography. He has, however, been, in some measure, anticipated by the
experiments made in 1839, in Rosel's printing office, in Munich; where,
by following the methods of Jacobi and Spencer, the lines of copperplate
were produced in relief. Wood cuts were, also, converted into metallic
plates, which, to say nothing of the advantage of the solidity of the
metal, far exceeded the effect of the most perfect casting. The
experiments for making stereotype plates in copper have, also, been
successful. In short, the invention has now reached that stage which
must secure for it the attention of all practical men."
Mulready's postal wrapper having been killed by universal derision: in
July was produced an envelope with an embossed head of the Queen thereon,
and these could be bought until the close of her reign.
Prince Louis Napoleon, previously to his ill-starred expedition to
Boulogne, had left instructions for his furniture and jewellery to be
sold; and sold they accordingly were by Christie and Manson on 21 Aug.,
and Mr. Bernal and other _virtuosi_ went to the sale to see what
Napoleonic relics they could pick up. Among these were two silver cups,
with the eagle and initial of Queen Hortense, 5 pounds 10/- and a casket
of camei, formerly the property of the Empress Josephine, was divided
into 22 lots, one of which was a pair of earrings, the gift of Pius VI.
to Josephine during the first campaign in Italy, in 1796, sold for 46
pounds 4/-, and the original marble bust of Napoleon, when Consul, dated
1804, by Canova, fetched 232 pounds 11/-.
On 28 Aug. Prince Albert received the freedom of the City of London; and,
on 11 Sep., he was made a Privy Councillor.
CHAPTER XIV.
Lord Cardigan and the "Black bottle" case--Lord Cardigan's duel with
Lieut. Tuckett--Steam to India--Nelson Column--Mormonism--"The Boy
Jones"--Napoleon's body transferred to France.
About this time the Earl of Cardigan made himself particularly
conspicuous before the public, and the commencement of it was the famous
"black bottle" question, and I well remember that that useful utensil
was, for many years, called a "Cardigan." My Lord was Colonel of the
11th Hussars, "Prince Albert's Own," and it so happened that, on the 18th
May, 1840, when the Inspecting Officer dined with the mess, Captain
Reynolds of "Ours" ordered, at mess, a bottle of Moselle, which, instead
of being decanted, was served in its original envelope, a proceeding
which gave offence to the aristocratic taste of the Colonel, and,
according to a statement which was published in many newspapers:
"The following morning Capt. Jones delivered the following message to
Capt. Reynolds: 'The Colonel has desired me, as president of the mess
committee, to tell you that you were wrong in having a black bottle
placed on the table, at a great dinner like last night, as the mess
should be conducted like a gentleman's table, and not like a tavern,
or pothouse,' or words to that effect. Capt. Reynolds received the
message with astonishment, but without remark, and, subsequently,
waited on the Earl of Cardigan, and complained of it, but received no
satisfactory answer.
"A short time afterwards, Capt. Reynolds met Capt. Jones in the
mess-room, and, in the presence of two officers, said to him:
'Captain Jones, I wish to speak to you about the message you brought
me this morning. In the first place, I do not think you were
justified in giving it at all; as a brother captain, having no
possible control over me, it would have been better taste if you had
declined to deliver it.' He replied: 'I received it from the
Commanding Officer, and, as such, I gave it; and, if you refuse to
receive it from me, I shall report it.' Capt. Reynolds replied: 'Do
not misunderstand me, Captain Jones; I have received, and do receive
it; but the message was an offensive one; and I tell you, once for
all, that, in future, I will not allow you, or any man, to bring me
offensive messages.' Capt. Jones said: 'If I am ordered to give a
message, I shall give it.' Capt. Reynolds said: 'Well, you may do as
you please; but if you bring me improper messages, you must take the
consequences.' Capt. Jones replied, 'he should certainly do so,' and
left the room.
"The two captains who were present (one not an officer of the
regiment) proved that Capt. Reynolds' manner was quiet and
inoffensive. Capt. Jones reported the conversation; and, soon
afterwards, Capt. Reynolds was summoned to the orderly room; where,
in presence of Major Jenkins, the adjutant, and Capt. Jones, Lord
Cardigan thus addressed Capt. Reynolds, in no very agreeable tone, or
manner: 'If you cannot behave quietly, Sir, why don't you leave the
regiment? This is just the way with you Indian officers; you think
you know everything; but I tell you, Sir, that you neither know your
duty, nor discipline. Oh, yes, you do know your duty, I believe, but
you have no idea whatever of discipline, and do not, at all, justify
my recommendation.' Capt. Reynolds remained silent; when Lord
Cardigan added, 'Well, I put you in arrest.'
"Capt. Jones then offered Capt. Reynolds his hand, upon which, Capt.
Reynolds, turning towards him, said, 'No, Capt. Jones, I will not
shake hands with you; nothing has passed which renders it necessary.
I have no quarrel with you, and I deny having insulted you, and see
no reason why I should shake hands with you, or the contrary.'
"Lord Cardigan said, 'But I say you have insulted Capt. Jones.'
Capt. Reynolds quietly replied, 'I have not, my Lord'; upon which
Lord Cardigan said, 'Well, I put you under arrest, and shall report
the matter to the Horse Guards.' Capt. Reynolds said, 'I am sorry
for it;' and retired.
"The matter was reported to the Horse Guards, after Capt. Reynolds
had been in close arrest three days. Lord Hill sent a memorandum,
recommending Capt. Reynolds to acknowledge the impropriety of his
conduct towards Lord Cardigan, and to declare his readiness to resume
friendly intercourse with Capt. Jones. This recommendation Capt.
Reynolds obeyed; but he still refused to shake hands with Capt.
Jones, which would seem to imply a previous quarrel, or to drink wine
with him within any specified time.
* * * * *
"On the 9th of June, Gen. Sleigh went to Canterbury; had all the
officers of the regiment brought before him, and, without any
investigation, read to them a letter from Headquarters, condemning
Capt. Reynolds's conduct in very strong language; approving of that
of Lord Cardigan, throughout, in every particular, stigmatizing Capt.
Reynolds's motives as pernicious and vindictive, and refusing a
court-martial, because many things would be brought to light which
would not be for the good of the Service.
"Capt. Reynolds then requested that he might be brought to a
court-martial for the offences for which he had now been charged.
This was also refused, as it was stated Lord Hill had determined it
should be considered as settled. And, as if this was not enough,
Gen. Sleigh told Capt. Reynolds that he had forfeited the sympathy of
every officer of rank in the Service.
"Capt. Reynolds applied for copies of all letters referred to in this
statement, which are not given at length, and was refused them."
He still kept in the regiment, which, perhaps, was unwise on his part, as
the sequel shows. Early in September, an evening party was given by the
Earl of Cardigan, to which, as usual, several officers of the regiment
were invited. In the course of the evening, a young lady casually
observed, aloud, that she "did not see Capt. Reynolds there." The Earl
of Cardigan, who happened to be near, heard the remark, and replied, "Oh,
no; he is not one of my visitors." The words were uttered without any
marked expression, and did not, at the time, attract particular
attention. They were, however, carried to Capt. Reynolds, who,
conceiving that the expression was calculated to affect him as a
gentleman, wrote a letter to the Earl of Cardigan, to know if the
expression had been used, and in what sense. This letter remained
unanswered, and the consequence was, that Capt. Reynolds, stung with this
apparently further slight, was induced to send a second and a stronger
letter, couched in terms which could bear no other interpretation than
that of a challenge.
On receiving this letter, the Earl of Cardigan consulted with his
friends; and, after fairly considering the matter, it was determined to
submit the letters with the whole of the circumstances connected with the
case, to the consideration of the Colonel of the regiment, Prince Albert.
The Prince, on receiving the papers, laid them before the
Commander-in-Chief, Lord Hill, for his opinion thereon, when it was
resolved, by the latter, to let the matter come fairly before the public,
in the shape of a court-martial, which was, shortly afterwards, held at
Brighton. This court confined itself chiefly to the consideration of the
second letter written by Capt. Reynolds, which they conceived to be
couched in a spirit so insubordinate, ungentlemanly, and insolent, as to
afford the writer no sort of excuse, or palliation for his conduct, on
the alleged grounds of previous provocation on the part of his commanding
officer, and they adjudged that Capt. Reynolds should be cashiered (Oct.
20).
It certainly was not from a wish not to fight a duel that Lord Cardigan
thus acted with regard to Capt. Reynolds (and no one who remembers his
heading the charge of the Light Brigade at Balaclava, can question his
courage), for he challenged and fought with Lieut. Tuckett, on 12th Sep.;
a duel which was thus reported in the papers:
In consequence of the Earl of Cardigan having ascertained that certain
letters published recently in the _Morning Chronicle_, reflecting, as his
lordship supposed, on his character as an officer and a gentleman, were
written by Lieut. Tuckett, late of the same regiment (11th Hussars), the
noble lord sent him, through Captain Douglas, of the 11th, a challenge,
which was at once accepted, and Capt. Wainwright (half-pay) was the
friend selected by Mr. Tuckett to arrange the preliminaries. An apology
was demanded by the noble lord, to which the reply was, that if he would
deny the allegations contained in the letters referred to, it should be
given. Lord Cardigan declared that certain portions of those letters
were true, but that the greater part were calumnies. On this, the
apology was refused, and a meeting was the consequence. It took place on
the afternoon of the 12th Sep., on Wimbledon Common. The first shot was
ineffectual, on both sides; but, on the second fire, Mr. Tuckett received
his adversary's ball in the back part of the lower ribs, which traversed
round to the spine. The ball was extracted, and Mr. Tuckett, after a
time, recovered.
Subsequently, warrants were issued, and Lord Cardigan and his second were
brought before the Bench of Surrey Magistrates, at Wandsworth; and after
several examinations, Lord Cardigan was committed for trial on the charge
of "Shooting at Capt. H. Tuckett with a pistol, with intent to murder, or
do him some bodily harm"; and his second, for aiding and abetting him.
The charge was laid under "An Act to amend the Laws relating to Offences
against the Person" (1 Vic., c. 85, s. 3), which makes the offence set
forth in the charge, a felony, punishable, at the discretion of the
Court, with transportation beyond the seas, for the term of his, or her,
natural life, or for any term not less than fifteen years, or to be
imprisoned for any term not exceeding three years.
He was tried in the House of Lords, on 16 Feb., 1841, by his peers, and
the case against him broke down through a technicality. His counsel, Sir
William Follett, pointed out that the prosecution had failed in proving a
material part of their case, inasmuch as no evidence had been given that
Captain Harvey Garnett Phipps Tuckett was the person alleged to have been
on Wimbledon Common on the 12th September last, and whose card only bore
the name of Captain Harvey Tuckett. The peers present returned a verdict
of "Not guilty," with the exception of the Duke of Cleveland, who added
"Not guilty, legally."
The use of steam at sea was beginning to assert itself. It was only two
years since, that I had to chronicle the voyages of the _Sirius_ and the
_Great Western_ across the Atlantic--now we have the first steamship to
India, sailing on 25 Sep. She was called _The India_, and was 1,200 tons
and nearly 400 horse-power. She sailed for Calcutta, calling at the Cape
of Good Hope, where she was to stop five days. It was expected that she
would complete her voyage, including stoppages, within 75 days.
On 30 Sep. the foundation stone of the Nelson Column in Trafalgar Square
was laid, without ceremony. It was a large block of Dartmoor granite,
weighing 14 tons; and, on 16 Oct. the tenders for building the new Royal
Exchange were settled. They varied very considerably, and the contract
was given to the lowest, that of Messrs. Webb, of Clerkenwell, whose
tender was 2,000 pounds under the architect's estimate.
About this time we begin to hear of Mormonism in England; not that it was
absolutely new, for, on 20 July, 1837, Heber C. Kimball, Orson Hyde,
Willard Richards, Joseph Fielding and others, landed at Liverpool, on the
first mission sent out by the Mormons. Three days after landing they
began preaching at Preston, and met with such remarkable success that,
within the next eight months, at the expiration of which time, Kimball
and Hyde returned to America, they had converted and baptised about 2,000
people. But the sect was uncommon, as we may see from the following
extract from the _Leeds Times_, copied into the _Times_ of 31 Oct.:
"A NEW SECT.--One of the most recent developments of fanaticism is
the appearance of a new sect, in different parts of England, entitled
_Latter Day Saints_. We believe that it made its first appearance in
Hertfordshire and Leicestershire, from which counties great numbers
of its members have lately emigrated to the United States. The sect
has extended to Lancashire and Yorkshire; and, by the labours of its
preachers, is now travelling northward into Durham and
Northumberland. The _Latter Day Saints_ assume to do many
extraordinary things. Among other accomplishments peculiar to those
who believe in the new doctrines, they are declared to possess the
power of casting out devils, or curing the sick by laying hands on
them, of resisting the operation of the deadliest poisons, of
speaking with new tongues, and of working miracles of various kinds.
They state that no ministers, now on earth, preach the Gospel, but
themselves, and that, only to them have the supernatural gifts of the
Church been vouchsafed. The Kingdom of God, they say, is only open
to those who have been baptised by immersion. In addition to the
Bible, they state they are in possession of another work, of equal
authority, entitled _The Book of Mormon_, the original of which was
found engraved on brass plates, in the central land of America.
Finally, they consider this is the last generation of mankind, and
that they have been sent into the world, expressly to prepare the way
for the Son of Man!"
Has my reader forgotten THE BOY JONES? He turns up again in this
chronicle, for, on Wednesday, the 2nd of December, the inmates of
Buckingham Palace were, shortly after midnight, aroused by an alarm being
given that a stranger had been discovered under the sofa in Her Majesty's
dressing-room, and the officers of the household were quickly on the
alert. It was soon ascertained that the alarm was not without
foundation, and the daring intruder was immediately secured, and safely
handed over to the tender mercies of the police. The report of the
occurrence spread very rapidly, and created the most lively interest in
London, as it was feared that the consequent alarm might be attended with
the most dangerous effects to the health of the Queen, who had been
confined only eleven days previously. Happily, neither mother, nor child
suffered in any way.
The facts, as far as can be gathered--the examination being a private
one, conducted by the Privy Council--seem to have been as follows:
Shortly after midnight, one of Her Majesty's pages, accompanied by other
domestics of the Royal household, was summoned into Her Majesty's
dressing-room, which adjoined the bed chamber in which Her Majesty's
accouchement had taken place, by Mrs. Lilly, the nurse, who thought she
heard a noise. A strict search was made; and, under the sofa on which
Her Majesty had been sitting, only about two hours' previously, they
discovered a dirty, ill-looking fellow, who was immediately dragged from
his hiding place, and given into custody. The prisoner was searched, but
nothing of a dangerous nature was found upon him, and the police, at
once, recognised their captive as the Edward Jones, who had, two years
previously, entered the palace in such a mysterious way. He is described
as being very short for his age, seventeen, and of a most repulsive
appearance; but he was, apparently, unconscious of this defect, as he
affected an air of great consequence, and repeatedly requested the police
to address him in a becoming manner; also behaving with the greatest
nonchalance at his examination before the Privy Council, the next day.
His first version of the matter was this: On Monday night, the 30th of
November, he scaled the wall of Buckingham Palace, about half-way up
Constitution Hill; he then proceeded to the Palace, and gained an entry
through one of the windows. He had not, however, been long there, when
he considered it unsafe for him to stay, as so many people were moving
about; and he left by the same manner as he entered. The next day,
Tuesday, about nine o'clock in the evening, he again effected an entrance
by the same means as before. He then went on to state that he remained
in the Palace the whole of Tuesday night, all Wednesday, and up to one
o'clock on Thursday morning, when the inquisitive youth was captured. He
was not satisfied with this dull and prosaic account of his entry; but,
on the following day, he tried to invent something marvellous, and
alleged that he ascended the roof of the Palace, and got down the
chimney; but there were no marks of soot on his person, and his first
story was, doubtless, the correct one.
The greatest mystery attending the affair was, how he could have found
his way to the room adjoining that in which Her Majesty slept, without
being observed. The delinquent stated that, during the day, he secreted
himself under different beds, and in cupboards, until, at length, he
gained an entrance into the dressing room; he, moreover, alleged that he
sat upon the throne, that he saw the Queen, and heard the Princess Royal
cry, but his story was such a romance, that no reliance could be placed
upon it. He was extremely reticent as to the cause of his intrusion into
the Palace, the only explanation which he vouchsafed, on being arrested,
was, that he wanted to see what was going on in the Palace, that he might
write about it, and, if discovered, he should be as well off as Oxford,
who fared better in Bedlam, than he, Jones, did out of it. Even the
stern discipline of the treadmill, to which he was promptly consigned,
failed to extract anything more out of him; his only remark, when
interrogated, being that he had got into the scrape, and must do the best
he could.
His father stated that, in his belief, his unfortunate son was not of
sound mind; but the medical evidence went to show that, though his head
was of a most peculiar formation, he was not insane. The Council,
therefore, came to the decision that it would be better to inflict
summary punishment, and he was committed to the House of Correction for
three months, as a rogue and vagabond.
If he is to be believed, he fared remarkably well whilst in his royal
residence, as he said he helped himself to soup and other eatables from a
room, which he called the "Cook's Kitchen," but no dependence whatever
could be placed on his word.
Prince Albert was taking leave of Her Majesty for the night, when the
miscreant was discovered; and the Prince, hearing a noise proceeding from
the adjoining apartment, opened the door, and ascertained the cause; but
it was not made known to the Queen till the following day, so as to
prevent any undue alarm on her part.
It is needless to say that this event excited the greatest interest, and
engrossed public attention, nothing else being talked of. The punishment
was considered far too light to deter a repetition of the offence, which
opinion was subsequently justified. Such an occurrence, of course, was
considered fair material for the humourists of the day to exercise their
wit upon, and there are many allusions to it in the _Age_ and _Satirist_
of the period; but, as their remarks are not always conceived in the best
taste, they are better left in the obscurity in which they now dwell.
Perhaps, however, this little couplet from the _Satirist_ may be
excepted:
"Now he in chains and in the prison garb is
Mourning the crime that couples Jones with darbies." {151}
It was Jones's extraordinary powers of finding an entrance into the
Palace that caused Samuel Rogers to declare that he must be a descendant
of the illustrious In---i---go.
On the 15 Dec. the remains of the Emperor Napoleon, which had been
removed from St. Helena, were laid, with great pomp, into the tomb
prepared for them at the Invalides, Paris; and, contrary to all
expectation, there was no disturbance on the occasion.
CHAPTER XV.
Death of Scott, "the American Diver"--Prince Albert's ducking--Monster
cheese--"The Boy Jones"--"Tracts for the Times," Tract XC--Earl of
Cardigan flogs a soldier on Sunday--Dispute as to the discovery of
Electric Telegraph--Sale of Shakspere autograph--The Census--Astley's
burnt--Behaviour of "gentlemen."
The first bit of gossip of this year was the tragic death of Sam Scott,
"the American diver," who was born at Philadelphia, and, at an early age,
entered the American navy. His extraordinary courage and prowess as a
diver rendered him very popular, and, after quitting the naval service,
he travelled about the Union exhibiting. He, subsequently, visited
Canada, and made some tremendous leaps from the banks of the St.
Lawrence, and the lakes which intersect that country; but his _chef
d'oeuvre_ was leaping from a precipice below the Falls of Niagara, where,
according to his own statement, he jumped the amazing distance of 595
feet, into the water, which he accomplished without injury or
inconvenience!
He was performing in England in 1838, and came to London in the latter
part of 1840; and we now hear of him as issuing a "Challenge to the World
for 100 Guineas! Monday next, Jan. 11, 1841, and during the week, Samuel
Scott, the American diver, will run from Godfrey's White Lion, Drury
Lane, to Waterloo Bridge, and leap into the water, forty feet high from
the bridge, and return back within the hour, every day during the week,
between one and two o'clock." There were about 8,000 or 10,000 people
assembled to see the feat, which was to be performed from a scaffolding
overhanging the river. Here he swung by a rope noose round his chin, and
afterwards, with his head downwards and one of his feet in the noose. He
then again hung suspended by his chin, but the noose slipped, and he was
hanged in sight of all that huge crowd. This fatal accident created a
great impression at the time.
I do not know the Evening paper from which the following "small beer"
chronicle is copied into the _Times_ of 12 Feb., but it purports to be an
"authentic account" of an accident to Prince Albert: "It appears that His
Royal Highness was walking in the Royal gardens, in company of Her
Majesty, the only attendant present being the Hon. Miss Murray, one of
the Maids of Honour in waiting upon the Queen. It not being understood
by Col. Bouverie and Lieut. Seymour that His Royal Highness intended to
skate, they were not, as usual, in attendance on the Prince, who had left
the Palace, with Her Majesty, without their knowledge. After walking for
a short time with the Queen, on the margin of the lake, His Royal
Highness put on his skates, and left Her Majesty, who remained watching
the movements of the Prince from the gardens. He had not been on the ice
more than two or three minutes, when, as he was proceeding at a rapid
rate towards the spot where the Queen was standing, and had reached
between three or four feet of the water's edge, the ice suddenly broke,
and, instantaneously he was immersed, head over ears, in the water. His
Royal Highness immediately rose to the surface, when Her Majesty, with
great presence of mind, joined her hand to that of the Hon. Miss Murray
(telling her to stand firm, and to betray no fear), and, extending her
right hand to the Prince, dragged him to the shore. Her Majesty
manifested the greatest courage upon the occasion, and acted with the
most intrepid coolness. As soon as the Prince was safe on dry land, the
Queen gave way to the natural emotions of joy and thankfulness at his
providential escape.
"The Prince then lost no time in proceeding to the Palace, where a warm
bath was immediately prepared, and His Royal Highness, within an hour
afterwards, was sufficiently well to receive the King of the Belgians,
upon His Majesty's arrival from Claremont. The ice in the centre of the
lake being nearly a foot in thickness, some surprise has been created
that the accident should have occurred; but it appears that the keepers
appointed to attend on the numerous and various aquatic birds which are
preserved in the gardens of the palace, had broken the ice along the
sides of the lake to enable them to take the water during the frost.
These portions had again become slightly frozen over, since they were
broken at an early part of the morning. This was unknown to the Prince,
or the Queen, and, hence, the accident occurred. There was no person
present, at the time, connected with the gardens, to point out his danger
to His Royal Highness. Yesterday morning, the Prince was suffering from
the effects of a slight cold; but, beyond this, His Royal Highness has
sustained no inconvenience."
On the 10th Feb. the Princess Royal was christened.
On 19 Feb. the Queen had a monster cheese presented to her, "on which
occasion, she was pleased to express her satisfaction." It was made from
the morning's milking of 737 cows, prepared by the labour of 50 dairy
women, at West Pennard, Somersetshire, and it weighed 11 cwt. It was
octagon in shape, and its upper surface was decorated with the Royal
Arms, surmounted with a wreath of roses, thistles and shamrocks.
Unfortunately, although it had been made over two years, it was not
considered to be fit to eat for another eighteen months.
_Ecce iterum_ the irrepressible BOY JONES! Prison evidently had no
terrors for him; for, no sooner was he liberated from Tothill Fields, on
2 Mar., than he, almost immediately, set to work to repeat his former
escapades. On the day previous to his liberation, he was visited by Mr.
Hall, a magistrate, who tried to persuade him to go to sea; but Jones
made certain conditions which could not be acceded to, and he did not go.
This gave an opportunity for the _Satirist_ to come out with the
following appropriate lines:
"The impudent urchin, whom sure the devil owns,
And Government wants to send into the Navy;
Will not go to sea--and 'tis cunning of Jones,
Who, thus, may avoid his relation, Old Davey."
He was then delivered into the care of his parents, with strict
injunctions to them to watch his actions; and, for some days, his conduct
was unexceptionable; he frequently attended a Methodist chapel, and
expressed his intention of joining a teetotal society. But the charms of
notoriety were too strong for him; and, again, he was drawn, as it were
by a magnet, to Buckingham Palace. Indeed, it possessed such attractions
for him, that, when required to pledge himself, before leaving prison,
not to visit the Palace again, he said he would not promise, as his
curiosity was so great.
On 15 March, shortly after 1 a.m., the sergeant of police on duty at the
Palace imagined, as he was going along the Grand Hall, that he saw
someone peeping through the glass door, and this turned out to be the
case; for, on his approach, Jones ran up against him, and was, of course,
immediately secured. In consequence of his previous visits, two extra
policemen had been appointed, whose duty it was, on alternate nights, to
watch all the staircases and interior of the building, and it was owing
to this arrangement that Master Jones was stopped early in his career, on
this last occasion.
Like most boys, Jones had a keen appreciation of a feast, all the more
enjoyable because irregularly come by; and, when he was arrested, he was
found to have been sitting at his ease in one of the royal apartments,
regaling himself with some cold meat and potatoes, which he had conveyed
upstairs in his handkerchief. On being questioned how he obtained an
entrance, his reply was, "the same way as before"; and he boasted,
moreover, that he could, at any time he pleased, get into the palace; but
he was extremely taciturn, and refused to satisfy curiosity, more
particularly on this point.
What he confessed at his examination by the Privy Council is not known,
as the proceedings were in private, reporters being excluded, and the
public were left in possession of only the above bare facts. He
persisted that the only motive for his intrusion was to hear the
conversation at Court, and to write an account of it; but this plea of
simplicity did not save him from a repetition of his old sentence of
three months imprisonment in the House of Correction, with the
uncomfortable addition, this time, of hard labour. Perhaps the best
punishment for this juvenile addition of Paul Pry would have been that
suggested by the _Satirist_, in the following paragraph: "As the urchin
Jones, in a letter to his father, stated that his reason for entering the
Queen's house was to 'seek for noose, in order to rite a book,' it is a
matter of general regret that, instead of magnifying the affair into Home
Office importance, the young rogue was not accommodated with a rope's
end." His visit, however, necessitated the appointment of three
additional sentries at the palace.
What became of him afterwards, nobody knows and nobody cares, but, one
thing is certain, he was _persuaded_ to go to sea, and _Punch_ (born 17
July) devotes a page (vol. i., p. 46) to "The Boy Jones's Log," a portion
of which is as follows:
"This mellancholly reflexion threw me into a poeticle fitte, and
though I was werry uneasy in my _stommik_, and had nothing to rite on
but my _chest_, I threw off as follows in a few 2nds, and arterards
sung it to the well-none hair of 'Willy Reilly':--
"Oakum to me, {156} ye sailors bold,
Wot plows upon the sea;
To you I mean for to unfold
My mournful historie.
So pay attention to my song,
And quick-el-ly shall appear,
How innocently, all along,
I was in-weigle-ed here.
"One night, returnin home to bed,
I walk'd through Pim-li-co,
And, twigging of the Palass, sed,
'I'm _Jones_ and In-i-go.'
But afore I could get out, my boys,
Pollise-man 20A,
He caught me by the corderoys,
And lugged me right a-way.
"My cuss upon Lord Melbun, and
On Jonny Russ-all-so,
That forc'd me from my native land,
Across the waves to go-o-oh!
But all their spiteful arts is wain,
My spirit down to keep;
I hopes I'll soon git back again,
To take another peep."
To follow Chronology compels me to turn suddenly from gay to grave
topics. In September, 1833, Newman commenced the _Tracts for the Times_,
which, according to its advertisement, had the object of "contributing
something towards the practical revival of doctrines (such as the
Apostolic Succession, and the Holy Catholic Church) which, although held
by the great divines of our Church, have become practically obsolete with
the majority of her members." Keble and others joined him at once, as
did Pusey as soon as the state of his health permitted, together with
nearly all the advanced thinkers at Oxford. These Tracts, issued from
time to time, caused a mighty upheaval in the Church of England, which
was known as the "Tractarian movement," the effects of which have lasted
to this day, as may be witnessed in the vast extension of Church
building, the larger attendance and more devout behaviour of
congregations, the brighter and more ornate services, which are so great
a contrast to the general sleepiness both of pastor and flock which then
existed.
Some of these Tracts went farther than people were, as yet, able to
follow, they were "strong meat for babes," and the publication of Tract
XC., by Newman, on the Thirty-nine Articles, brought things to a climax,
and on 15 March, the Vice-Chancellor and the Heads of Houses met to
censure the publication; they came to the resolution: "That modes of
interpretation, such as are suggested in the said Tract, evading rather
than explaining the sense of the Thirty-nine Articles, and reconciling
subscription to them, with the adoption of errors which they were
designed to counteract, defeat the object, and are inconsistent with the
due observance of the Statutes of the University." They only expressed
their opinion which was all they could do, but Newman avowed the
authorship of the Tract, and whilst he was still unconvinced of his
error, he wrote, "I am sincerely sorry for the trouble and anxiety I have
given to the members of the Board, and I beg to return my thanks to them,
for an act which, even though founded on misapprehension, may be made as
profitable to myself, as it is religiously and charitably intended."
At this time, neither the writers of the Tracts, nor their readers, had
any intention of severing themselves from the Church of England, their
sole endeavours were to wake it from the torpor into which it had fallen;
and, had there been any tolerance on the other side, such men as Newman,
Manning, and others, would have been kept to the Church, for they merely
enunciated doctrine and practices which are now almost universal.
The old flint-lock Brown Bess was still in use in the Army, although
percussion arms were introduced in 1840; but we read (13 Ap.) that "the
exchange of flint for percussion cap guns to the Army, will cost, this
year, 130,000 pounds."
That amiable gentleman, the Earl of Cardigan, was still making himself
notorious. This time it was flogging a soldier on Easter Sunday, after
Church; and the very first question asked in the House of Commons, when
it met after the Easter recess, was by Mr. Hume, relating to it. Mr.
Macauly replied that: "Whatever other imputations there might be cast on
Lord Cardigan, a disposition for the infliction of corporal punishment
was not one which could justly be thrown on him. From inquiries which he
had made, he had found that, since 1839, up to the recent case, there was
not an instance of the infliction of corporal punishment in this
regiment. The charge, however, for which he was justly liable to public
censure, was the immediate infliction of punishment, on a Sunday, after
Divine Service. Such a proceeding was clearly contrary to the religious
feelings and habits of the people of this country, and could not be
reconciled with either good sense, or good feeling." Lord Hill, the
Commander-in-Chief, only felt "surprised" at Lord Cardigan's conduct; but
the _Times_ of 24 Apl. had a most scathing leading article on the
subject, winding up with "we trust some independent member of the House
of Commons will take an early opportunity of cutting the Gordian knot,
and move an address to the Crown for the removal of the Earl of Cardigan
from the Lieut.-Colonelcy of the 11th Hussars." {159}
The Electric Telegraph being now a _fait accompli_, the honour of the
discovery was disputed between Cooke and Wheatstone--both claiming it.
It was settled by arbitration, the referees being Marc Isimbard Brunel,
the eminent civil engineer, and Professor Daniell, the inventor of the
Galvanic battery which bears his name, and their Solomonian judgment was
as follows: "While Mr. Cooke is entitled to stand alone, as the gentleman
to whom this country is indebted for having practically introduced and
carried out the Electric Telegraph as a useful undertaking, promising to
be a work of national importance; and Professor Wheatstone is
acknowledged as the scientific man, whose profound and scientific
researches had, already, prepared the public to receive it as a project
capable of practical application; it is to the united labours of two
gentlemen so well qualified for mutual assistance, that we must attribute
the rapid progress which this important invention has made during the
five years since they have been associated."
On 24 May was sold by auction an undoubtedly authentic signature of
Shakspere, attached to a deed, thus described in the catalogue:
"Shakspere's autograph affixed to a deed of bargain and sale of a house
purchased by him, in Blackfriars, from Henry Walker, dated March 10,
1612, with the seals attached." The poet is described as "Wm.
Shakspeare, of Stratforde upon Avon, in the countie of Warwick,
gentleman"; and the premises thus: "All that dwelling house, or tenement,
with the appurtenance, situate and being within the precinct, circuit and
compasse of the late black ffryers, London, sometymes in the tenure of
James Gardiner, Esqre., and since that time, in the tenure of John
Ffortescue, gent, and now, or late being in the tenure or occupacon of
one William Ireland, or of his assignee or assignees; abutting upon a
streete leading down to Pudle Wharffe on the east part, right against the
King's Majesties Wardrobe; part of wch said tenement is erected over a
great gate leading to a capitall messuage, wch sometyme was in the tenure
or occupacon of the Right Honourable Henry now Earle of Northumberland."
The deed, at the commencement is stated to be "betweene Henry Walker,
Citizen and Minstrell, of London, of thone partie, and William
Shakspeare, of Stratforde upon Avon, in the countie of Warwick,
gentleman; William Johnson, Citizen and Vintner, of London; John Jackson
and John Hemyng, of London, of thother partie"; and that the property was
absolutely sold to all four, "theire heires and assigns for ever." The
deed is regularly entered in the Rolls' Court Sir F. Madden (continues
the catalogue) states in his "Observations on the autograph of
Shakspere," in Florio's translation of _Montaigne's Essays_, which was
sold in 1838: "There are five acknowledged genuine signatures in
existence, exclusive of the one which forms the subject of this
communication. Of these, three are attached to his will in the
Prerogative Court, executed the 25th March, 1615-16; the fourth is
written on a mortgage deed, dated 11 March, 1612-13; of a small estate
purchased by Shakspere, of Henry Walker, in Blackfriars; and the fifth,
on the counterpart of the deed of bargain and sale of the said property,
dated 10 March, 1612-13; and, speaking of the last, Sir F. Madden says,
at p. 14: 'What has become of this document?' a query which the
auctioneers say is answered. Of these six signatures, three to the will
are in Doctors' Commons (two of them much injured by the hands of the
lovers of Shakspere); the one in _Montaigne's Essays_ is now in the
British Museum; what has become of the mortgage deed is quite unknown:
this, then, is the only autograph of Shakspere ever likely to be offered
for sale." After many and very animated biddings it was eventually
knocked down to Mr. Elkins for 165 pounds 15s. These two deeds are now
in safe keeping, one being in the British Museum, the other belonging to
the Corporation of the City of London. The authenticity of the signature
in _Montaigne's Essays_ is open to discussion. At the same sale was sold
"the Shakspere Cup," made from the mulberry tree said to have been
planted by Shakspere, carved on the sides with a medallion of Shakspere,
and his Coat of Arms. This was for nearly 30 years in the possession of
Munden, the actor, and it realised 21 pounds. In the British Museum is a
beautifully-carved casket, made of the same wood, which, together with
the freedom of Stratford-on-Avon, was given to Garrick by the Corporation
of the town in 1769.
The decennial Census, which began in 1801, was, according to the Act 3
and 4 Vic., c. 29, taken of the number of individuals who slept in the
respective houses in each parish, throughout England and Wales, on the
night of Sunday, 6 June. Scotland, the Channel Islands, and the Isle of
Man were also taken, but Ireland was not; and the following return
includes only such part of the Army, Navy, and Merchant Seamen, as were,
at the time of the Census, within the Kingdom on shore:
Males. Females. Total.
England 7,321,875 7,673,633 14,995,508
Wales 447,533 463,788 911,321
Persons ascertained 4,003 893 4,896
to have been
travelling by
railroads and canals
on night of 6 June
Scotland 1,241,276 1,379,334 2,620,610
Islands in the 57,598 66,481 124,079
British Seas
Total 18,656,414
On 8 June, Astley's Amphitheatre was burnt down, one life being
sacrificed, and causing a monetary loss of over 30,000 pounds. This
calamity so affected the proprietor, Mr. Ducrow, that he lost his reason,
and died soon after, on 28 Jan., 1842.
Here is another little story of the behaviour of gentlemen in those days,
copied from the _Times_, 11 June:
"WINDSOR, 10 June. Yesterday evening there was a large party
consisting of the officers of the 60th Rifles, and several of the 1st
Life Guards, at the mess of the infantry barracks, in Sheet Street,
in consequence of several promotions which have recently taken place
in the Rifles, occasioned by vacancies caused by the decease of the
Hon. Col. Molyneux. The festivities of the evening were kept up till
past 12 o'clock, when a large party sallied forth for 'a spree.'
They first proceeded to the extensive canvas amphitheatre of Mr. Van
Amburgh, in the Bachelor's Acre, but, there, they were, fortunately,
kept at bay by several of Mr. Van Amburgh's men, before they had
committed any excesses. The knockers, bell handles and brass plates
from several doors in the neighbourhood were then wrenched off, and
the whole party then made for a well-known gambling house (which has
been tolerated in this town for upwards of twelve months), at No. 4,
Augusta Place, where they were immediately admitted. What took place
there before the row commenced, or what was the occasion of the havoc
and destruction which almost immediately afterwards ensued, I have
not been able to ascertain. However, they had not been there more
than half an hour before there was a scene of the greatest confusion
throughout the whole house, causing alarm and terror, from the noise
which was created, around the entire neighbourhood. The police were
sent for soon after 1 o'clock, previously to which a portion of the
60th Rifles, who were on guard at the Castle, had been despatched to
the scene of action, and whom the police met on their return to the
guard room. Upon the Superintendent, Sergeant and several policemen
entering the house (which they found empty, with the exception of one
of the gamblers, who, it appeared, had secreted himself) they found
scarcely one piece of furniture left whole. The green baize was torn
from the billiard and other tables, the doors of the different rooms
broken down, the windows, with the sashes and frames, broken to
pieces; all the lamps smashed, chairs and tables dislocated, the
fanlight over the front door gone, and the balustrades upon the
stairs torn away. At this time, the whole of the party had gone off;
and, as for the proprietors of the gaming house, they were glad to
effect their escape, across the garden, into a large piece of waste
land, called the Lammas. It was expected that some complaint would
have been lodged before the borough magistrates, to-day, at the Town
Hall; but no application was made to the Bench on the subject during
the hours of business. A large brass plate, which had been wrenched
from a garden gate, was found, this morning, by the police, in the
infantry barracks, where there are sundry knockers and bell handles
awaiting to be identified and returned to their respective owners."
{163}
The following incident is very little known, and is copied from the
_Salopian Journal_ of 3 July: "It is known to many of our readers that
the Whig-Radical faction in Shrewsbury, despairing (as the event has
proved) of winning the election by fair and honest means, have resorted
to the infamous trick of publishing anonymous slanders against Mr.
Disraeli, one of the Tory Candidates. He rebutted the slanders so
promptly and effectually, that, at last, the opposite party resolved to
try the desperate expedient of publishing them with a name attached, as a
sort of guarantee. Accordingly, a letter, repeating these slanders,
"with additions," appeared in the _Shrewsbury Chronicle_ on Friday,
signed by a barrister, who had been employed by the Radical candidates to
manage their part of the contest. Mr. Disraeli, without any loss of
time, issued a handbill commenting on conduct which appears to us at once
ungentlemanly and unprofessional, and plainly designated the barrister's
statements as 'utterly false.' This handbill appeared early in the
forenoon of Friday, and, at an advanced hour of the afternoon, a
gentleman waited upon Mr. Disraeli with a hostile message from his
calumniator. He found Mr. Disraeli in company with his lady, and
communicated that he had business of importance to settle with him. A
challenge from the barrister was then handed to Mr. Disraeli. About an
hour afterwards, Mr. Jonathan Sheppard having learnt that such a
transaction had taken place--and it is certain that the information had
not come from the challenged party--waited upon the Mayor, and, upon his
information, our worthy Chief Magistrate called upon both parties to
enter into recognizances to keep the peace. How far Mr. Disraeli would
have been justified in meeting a person who had acted as the barrister
had acted, is a question which need not be discussed here."
CHAPTER XVI.
Story of an Irish informer--Steam Cars--Sale of Vauxhall Gardens--First
Jewish Baronet--New Railways opened--High tide--Fire at the Tower--Birth
of Prince of Wales--His patent as such--The Thames at length
tunnelled--Antiquities found in Royal Exchange.
We have known something about Irish crime, but the following true tale
takes a lot of beating. On the last day of the Clonmel Assizes, in July,
Judge Torrens heard a case of arson, in which the prisoners, who were
four in number, were all acquitted, after a trial which lasted eight
hours.
The principal witness for the prosecution was an approver, named Lysaght;
and, in all the annals of informers, it would be extremely difficult to
find a parallel to this same Lysaght. Indeed, the admission by the Crown
of the testimony of such a miscreant, in the matter of life or death,
appears to be highly reprehensible, as the following abstract of his
evidence will plainly evince:
John Lysaght examined: I remember the time when Walsh's house was
burnt. Anthony Ryan came to me before the house was burned to borrow
a gun. I brought it to him on a Monday night, and he told me to come
with him to McCarthy's house, who wanted to see me. I went to
McCarthy's, and near his place was an old house, in which some of our
party were assembled. McCarthy brought some bread and spirits, and
we took share of it. McCarthy asked me if I would go with the men to
frighten Walsh, and burn the house. I promised to do so, and he then
furnished us with powder and ball; we went down to the river side,
and McCarthy gave his pistols and 7/6 in money to Anthony Ryan. He
gave me some powder, flax, and something like saltpetre, and showed
me, by putting some powder into the pan, and snapping it, how the
flax was to be lighted. McCarthy then parted with us, and we, after
eating the bread and meat, went to Walsh's. I lighted the tow, and
Paddy Ryan put the fire into the roof. I and two of the party then
went and stood sentry near the road. After a time, I heard a noise,
and ran back to give an alarm. We then left, and went by Toom
homewards, and separated near Marshall's gate; this was about three
or four in the morning. I and Paddy Ryan had shot guns, Ned Ryan had
a long one, Darby Ryan a bayonet on a pole, and the two Ryans had
McCarthy's pistols. We left the house after it was in flames. I
knew a man named Bryan Noonan; he is dead.
Judge Torrens: Was it you murdered Noonan?
Witness: No. I joined in it.
Mr. Hatchell: How many men did you murder before this?
Witness: None.
You say it was Anthony Ryan went to you to get the gun?--It was.
He has, since, been transported?--Yes.
You went with the party to the burning for the love of
amusement?--They induced me to go with them, but did not force me; I
was not very unwilling to go after getting the liquor; but, when I
brought the gun, had no such intention.
Did you load the gun before you went out?--I did.
Had you liberty to carry a gun?--Yes, from a magistrate, Mr. Coates,
who is since dead.
Were you ever tried before you committed the murder on
Noonan?--Indeed I was; I was tried before, for posting a threatening
notice, but it was no such thing.
Were you not sentenced to be transported?--I was.
Did you not fire shots at the same time?--Yes.
Judge Torrens: And the reward you gave the Government for bringing
you back was murdering Noonan
Mr. Hatchell: Was not your brother Caravat tried?--Yes.
You say you were only present at the murder of Noonan; now, was it
not you who knocked down the unfortunate man with the butt-end of a
blunderbuss?--Yes, the very first. (Sensation.)
And you don't call that murdering the man?--We were all murdering
him.
Were you not one of the men who carried him into the ditch to hide
the body?--I was.
Where is your brother, the Caravat?--I don't know.
Was he at the burning of Walsh's house?--No.
Did you know Leonard, the smith?--I did.
Did you see him killed?--I saw him struck, but was not looking on at
his killing.
Did you give him a blow then?--I did not strike a blow at the man.
Did you give a blow that day?--Yes, when myself was struck.
Do you remember Wat Hayes?--Yes.
You attacked him, but he shot you off?--No, he did not.
Was not one of your companions shot by Mr. Hayes?--No, but a man near
me.
Now, tell me, did he not kill one of your friends?--Oh, he had a
party against us, and waylaid us.
Did you remember Jemmy Hughes, who was killed with a hatchet?--I did.
Were you not looking at his murder?--Oh, no; he was married to my
first cousin.
Were you not taxed with the murder?--The whole country knew who was
in that affair.
You recollect David Hickey, who was killed at Bilboa?--I was in the
fair.
You were of the party?--I was looking at him.
That was your third murder.
A Juror: His fifth murder.
Did you rob Michael Rogers?--No, but I got the course of law, and was
acquitted.
You knew Mick Griffin, Lord Stradbroke's herd?--I heard he was shot.
Was your brother Caravat accused of this business?--No, I never heard
of it.
Did you not say you would put a rope about McCarthy's neck?--I did
not. I remember when Kennedy was put out of possession. McCarthy's
cattle and premises were burned after this, but the country say it
was himself did it. I never asked a farm of Lord Stradbroke, but my
father or brothers might. I never heard that McCarthy prevented us
getting the farm, on the ground of our being so bad.
Do you remember you and your uncle carrying away a woman?--I do.
Your uncle was transported?--He was.
So you have been guilty of one abduction, five murders, and one
burning; what else did you do? Would you suggest any other crime in
the catalogue, of which you were not guilty?
Judge Torrens: Did you commit a rape?--No.
Mr. Hatchell: Were any of your brothers convicted of a rape?--Yes.
Were you not charged with holding the unfortunate woman while your
brother committed the rape?--No, but another brother was.
Judge Torrens: Did you steal cattle?--No.
Mr. Hatchell: That would be too shabby an offence. When you came to
Walsh's house, you lifted one of the Ryans up in the roof?--Yes.
And you lit the fire?--I did.
Did you know there were women in the house?--I partly guessed there
were.
Did you mind how many innocent people might have been burned?--I did
not care. (Great sensation.)
Judge and Counsel, with great disgust, ordered the wretch off the
table.
In these days of Motor Cars, any gossip about their progenitors must be
of interest. On 7 Aug., a steam carriage, carrying 16 persons, belonging
to the General Steam Company, was tried between the York and Albany,
Regent's Park, and the Manor House at Tottenham--i.e., along the Camden
Road to Finsbury Park--doing the distance in rather less than
half-an-hour. Another ran on 13 Sep. from Deptford to Sevenoaks, about
21 miles, in 2 hours 37 minutes, but there were small accidents by the
way. Later on in the month the first-named carriage performed about
Windsor, Frogmore and Dachet, and frequently reached a speed of 18 to 20
miles an hour; and on Oct. 1 it was shown to the Queen and Prince Albert,
the latter expressing himself highly pleased with it. It then only did
16 miles an hour.
On 9 Sep. Vauxhall Gardens, which had been a place of amusement since the
time of Charles I., were sold for 20,000 pounds. In _Punch_ of 14 Aug.
we find a sad account of a last visit:
"Impelled by a sense of duty, we wended our way to the 'Royal
property,' {169a} to take a last look at the long expiring gardens.
It was a wet night--the lamps burnt dimly--the military band played
in the minor key--the waiters stalked about with so silent,
melancholy a tread, that we took their towels for pocket
handkerchiefs; the concert in the open _rain_ went off
tamely--dirge-like, in spite of the 'Siege of Acre,' which was
described in a set of quadrilles, embellished with blue fire and
maroons, and adorned with a dozen double drums, thumped at intervals,
like death notes, in various parts of the doomed gardens. The
_divertissement_ was anything but diverting, when we reflected upon
the impending fate of the 'Rotunda,' in which it was performed.
"No such damp was, however, thrown over the evolutions of 'Ducrow's
beautiful horses and equestrian _artistes_,' including the 'new grand
_entree_ and calvacade of Amazons.' They had no sympathy with the
decline and fall of the _Simpsonian_ {169b} empire. They were
strangers, interlopers, called in, like mutes and feathers, to grace
the 'funeral show,' to give a more graceful flourish to the final
exit. The horses pawed the sawdust, evidently unconscious that the
earth it covered would soon be 'let on lease for building ground';
the riders seemed in the hey-day of their equestrian triumph. Let
them, however, derive from the fate of Vauxhall a deep, a fearful
lesson!--though we shudder as we write, it shall not be said that
destruction came upon them unawares--that no warning voice had been
raised--that even the squeak of _Punch_ was silent! Let them not
sneer, and call us superstitious--we do _not_ give credence to
supernatural agency as a fixed and general principle; but we did
believe in Simpson, and stake our professional reputation upon
Widdicomb! {170a}
"That Vauxhall Gardens were under the special protection of, that
they drew the very breath of their attractiveness from, the
ceremonial Simpson, who can deny? When he flitted from walk to walk,
from box to box, and welcomed everybody to the 'Royal property,'
right royally did things go on! Who would _then_ have dreamt that
the illustrious George {170b}--he of the Piazza--would ever be
'honoured with instructions to sell'? that his eulogistic pen would
be employed in giving the puff superlative to the Elysian haunts of
quondam fashion--in other words--painting the lily-gilding refined
gold? But, alas! Simpson, the tutelar deity, departed ('died,' some
say, but we don't believe it), and, at the moment he made his last
bow, Vauxhall ought to have been closed; it was madness--the madness
which will call us, peradventure, superstitious--which kept the gates
open when Simpson's career closed--it was an anomaly, for, like Love
and Heaven, Simpson was Vauxhall, and Vauxhall was Simpson!
"Let Ducrow reflect upon these things--we dare not speak out--but a
tutelar being watches over, and giveth vitality to his arena--his
ring is, he may rely upon it, a fairy one--while _that_ mysterious
being dances and prances in it, all will go well; his horses will not
stumble, never will his clowns forget a syllable of their antiquated
jokes. Oh! let him, then, whilst seriously reflecting upon Simpson
and the fate of Vauxhall, give good heed unto the Methuselah, who
hath already passed his second centenary in the circle!
"These were our awful reflections while viewing the scenes in the
circle, very properly constructed in the Rotunda. They overpowered
us--we dared not stay to see the fireworks, 'in the midst of which
Signora Rossini was to make her terrific ascent and descent on a rope
three hundred feet high.' She _might_ have been the sprite of Madame
Saqui; {171} in fact, the 'Vauxhall Papers,' published in the
gardens, put forth a legend which favours such a dreadful
supposition. We refer our readers to them--they are only sixpence
apiece.
"Of course, the gardens were full, in spite of the weather; for what
must be the callousness of that man who could let _the_ Gardens pass
under the hammer of George Robins, without bidding them an
affectionate farewell? Good gracious! we can hardly believe such
insensibility does exist. Hasten then, dear readers, as you would
fly to catch the expiring sigh of a fine old boon companion--hasten
to take your parting slice of ham, your last bowl of arrack--even
now, while the great auctioneer says 'going.'"
On 24 August Sir J. L. Goldsmid was made a Baronet, and was the first
Jewish gentleman who ever received that title. Perhaps it is not
generally known that an honour, not much inferior, had, once, very nearly
fallen to the lot of a brother Israelite. At one of those festive
meetings at Carlton House, in which George IV. sometimes allowed a few of
his most favoured subjects to participate, Mr. Braham was introduced to
sing his then newly-composed song, "A Bumper of Burgundy," when the
gratified monarch, rising from his chair, was, with difficulty,
restrained from conferring immediate knighthood on the flattered
musician.
* * * * *
Three well-known railways were opened this year; the Great Western, from
London to Bristol, on 30 June; the London and Blackwall, on 2 Aug.; and
the London and Brighton, on 21 Sep.
On 18 Oct. was a remarkably high tide in the Thames, which did an immense
amount of damage. This, and another event were celebrated in a
contemporary ballad, beginning:
"There's lately been a great high tide,
Nor can it be surprising,
When everything is getting dear,
That water should be rising,"
and after dealing with that event in a very witty manner, it went on:
"The Tower of London, envying
Father Thames's notoriety,
Resolved to have a 'flare up'
And be talked of in society;
Ten thousand guns were fired at once,
With very few escapers,
But, though no one heard the great report,
There was one in the papers."
This terrible conflagration was first noticed about half-past ten, on the
night of 31 Oct., by a sentinel on duty on the terrace near the Jewel
Office, whose attention was attracted to a glimmering light under the
cupola of the Round, or Bowyer Tower--which was close to the Armoury, in
which was deposited an immense amount of stores, such as muskets, etc.,
and many priceless trophies of war. When the sentinel found the light
increased, he gave the alarm by firing his musket, and the whole of the
garrison, officers and men, turned out; but the fire had got so great a
hold that, before a sufficient supply of water could be obtained, the
entire roof of the Armoury was in flames.
Unfortunately, it was low tide in the Thames, and, although the
fire-engines soon arrived, and there were the Garrison and 250 policemen
to render assistance, the flames spread rapidly; so fast, indeed, that
the only things then got out and saved, were the Duke of York's sword and
belt, and a beautiful Maltese gun.
The grand staircase of this Armoury was considered one of the finest in
Europe, and the following is a contemporary description of it. "In a
recess on the landing was a platform supported on eight brass six-pounder
guns, taken at Waterloo, and which served as pillars. On this was a
splendid trophy, consisting of arms and weapons, ancient and modern,
comprising nearly 200 varieties, and nearly all differing in form or
pattern. In the centre was a marble bust of William IV. Upon the walls,
at the sides, were two large stars, formed of swords, and their brass
scabbards, bayonets and pistols, one representing the Star of the Garter,
and the other of the Bath. Also two figures in gilt suits of armour on
ornamented pedestals. The rails of the stairs and the cornice of the
ceiling were ornamented with architectural figures, curiously formed with
arms. Below, upon pedestals, were two very striking groups, one
representing a knight in gilt armour, preparing for action, attended by
his esquire, who was in the act of buckling on his spurs, and a pikeman,
with his 18 feet pike. The other group was a knight in a handsome suit
of bright armour, of the time of Elizabeth, in action, having seized a
banner from the enemy, waving his followers on. On each side of the
entrance door was a knight in a suit of gilt armour, and two others,
similarly clad, stood on brackets. The whole of these were destroyed,
with the exception of the Waterloo cannon."
The fire was soon perilously near to the Jewel Office, which was
scorching hot--yet Mr. Swifte, the keeper of the jewels, saved the whole
of the Regalia, down to the minutest article, and was earnestly begged to
retire and leave the last thing, a huge silver wine fountain, to its
fate, but he would not, and this, also, was salved.
"Then Mr. Swifte was nothing slow
The Crown and Jewels saving;
And to get the great Wine Cooler out,
Great danger he was braving.
Now, Mr. Swifte, of all the wine,
Should now be made the ruler,
For while the fire was getting hotter,
He was getting _the Wine Cooler_."
There was an awful scare as to the chance of the store of gunpowder
catching alight--but 400 barrels of powder, and 200 boxes of grenades and
ball cartridges, were removed to the magazine, and the remainder was
thrown into the moat.
On the 8th Dec. the general public were allowed to inspect the ruins, and
to purchase mementos of the fire; the prices were, 6d. for half-a-dozen
gun-flints, and the same amount for a few burnt percussion caps; pieces
of fused iron and arms went at prices varying from 1s. to 20s., the
latter, the maximum price. For many years I had a fused cavalry pistol,
and some calcined flints which were very pretty. The fused cannon were
sold as old metal.
On the 9 Nov. His Majesty Edward VII. was born, and, on the 8th Dec. was
created Prince of Wales. His patent is as follows:
"Victoria, by the grace of God, of the United Kingdom of Great
Britain and Ireland, Queen, Defender of the Faith.
"To all Archbishops, Dukes, Earls, Viscounts, Bishops, Barons,
Baronets, Knights, Justices, Provosts, Ministers, and all other our
faithful subjects, greeting--
"Know ye, that we have made and created, and by these our letters
patent, do make and create, our most dear Son, the Prince of the
United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland (Duke of Saxony, Duke of
Cornwall and Rothsay, Earl of Carrick, Baron Renfrew, Lord of the
Isles, and Great Steward of Scotland), Prince of Wales and Earl of
Chester; and to the same, our most dear Son, the Prince of the United
Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, have given and granted, and by
this our present Charter do give, grant and confirm, the name, style,
title, dignity and honour of the same Principality and Earldom, and
him, our said most dear Son, the Prince of the United Kingdom of
Great Britain and Ireland, as has been accustomed, we do ennoble and
invest with the said Principality and Earldom, by girting him with a
sword, by putting a coronet on his head, and a gold ring on his
finger, and, also, by delivering a gold rod into his hand, that he
may preside there, and may direct and defend those parts. To hold to
him and his Heirs, Kings of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and
Ireland, for ever, wherefore we will, and strictly command for us,
our heirs, and successors, that our said most dear Son, the Prince of
the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, may have the name,
style, title, state, dignity, and honour of the Principality of
Wales, and Earldom of Chester aforesaid, unto him and his heirs,
Kings of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, as is above
mentioned.
"In witness whereof, we have caused these, our letters, to be made
patent. Witness ourself at Westminster, this 8th day of December,
1841.
By the QUEEN herself.
"Edmunds."
We read in the _Times_ of 25 Nov., anent the Thames Tunnel, that "a
thoroughfare was, yesterday, effected in this work, and made use of, for
the first time, by the whole of the directors, and some of the original
subscribers, who had assembled upon the occasion. The shield having been
advanced to the shaft at Wapping, a considerable opening was cut in the
brickwork, and it was through this the party, who had met at Rotherhithe,
were enabled to pass, thus opening the first subterranean communication
between the opposite shores of the river. Upon their arrival at the
shaft, the party was greeted by the workmen with most hearty cheers. A
curious and interesting incident was connected with the event; a few
bottles of wine, preserved since the dinner given on the occasion when
the foundation stone was laid, with the understanding that it was to be
drunk only when it could be carried under the Thames, having been opened
and enjoyed by the company, to the health of Her Majesty and the infant
Prince. It was remarked, too, as a singular coincidence, that a seal on
one of the corks bore the impress of the Prince of Wales's feathers, a
circumstance that caused some merriment. The engineer, Sir I. Brunel,
appeared highly gratified at the happy result of his past anxiety and
arduous labour. The shield will continue its advance, until it has
afforded space for the formation of the remainder of the tunnel, which is
expected to be completed in about three weeks."
By the end of the year the foundations of the New Royal Exchange were dug
out and concreted, and, as it was always anticipated that some important
discoveries might take place in the course of the excavation, proper
arrangements were made on the commencement of the work, that any articles
of interest which might be disinterred, should be secured for the Gresham
Committee. In the Specification for the Works, issued in 1840, the
Contractor and Excavator were required, in taking out the soil, to
deliver up "any plate, coins, antiquities, or curiosities, whether in
metal, or otherwise, or any carved stones, or carvings in marble,
pottery, terra cotta, or tesserae, which may be found in the course of
the excavations; it being understood that all such matters, or things,
are to be taken up with all requisite care, and are to remain the
property of the Gresham Committee."
They found a portion of a Roman building, but the greatest haul was in an
old gravel pit, some 50ft. by 34, filled with hardened mud, in which were
contained considerable quantities of animal and vegetable remains,
apparently the discarded refuse of the inhabitants of the vicinity. In
the same depository were also found very numerous fragments of the red
Roman pottery, usually called "Samian Ware," pieces of glass vessels,
broken terra-cotta lamps, parts of amphorae, mortaria, and other articles
made of earth, and all the rubbish which might naturally become
accumulated in a pond in the course of years. In this mass likewise
occurred a number of Imperial Roman coins, several bronze and iron
styles, parts of writing tablets, a bather's strigil, a large quantity of
caliga soles, sandals and remains of leather, all of which can now be
seen in the highly interesting Museum of the Corporation of the City of
London, at the Guildhall.
CHAPTER XVII.
Foundation of Royal Exchange laid--Medal connected therewith--Father
Mathew's miracle--Christening of the Prince of Wales--King Edward
VII.--Hard work of the King of Prussia--The Earthquake in London--The
Queen drinking "grog"--Photography-Talbotype--Sale at Strawberry
Hill--Presents to the King of Prussia.
The first event of note in this year was the laying, by Prince Albert, of
the foundation stone of the Royal Exchange, on 17 Jan., with all the pomp
at the command of the City authorities. The usual coins, etc., were
deposited in a cavity, together with a Latin inscription, engraved on
zinc, of which the following is a translation: "Sir Thomas Gresham,
Knight, erected, at his own charge, a building and colonnade for the
convenience of those persons who, in this renowned Mart, might carry on
the commerce of the World, adding thereto, for the relief of indigence,
and for the advancement of literature and science, an Almshouse and
College of Lecturers, the City of London aiding him, Queen Elizabeth
favouring the design; and, when the work was complete, opening it in
person with a solemn procession. Having been reduced to ashes with
almost the entire city, by a calamitous and wide spreading conflagration,
they were rebuilt in a more splendid form by the City of London and the
Ancient Company of Mercers, King Charles II. commencing the building on
23 Oct., A.D. 1667; and, when they had been again destroyed by fire, on
the 10th Jan., AD. 1838, the same Bodies, undertaking the work,
determined to restore them at their own cost, on an enlarged and more
ornamental plan; the munificence of Parliament providing the means of
extending the site, and of widening the approaches and crooked streets,
in every direction; in order that there might, at length, arise, under
the auspices of Queen Victoria, built a third time from the ground, an
Exchange, worthy of this great Nation and City, and suited to the
vastness of a Commerce extending to the circumference of the habitable
Globe. His Royal Highness of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, Consort of Her
Sacred Majesty, laid the first stone on 17 Jan., 1842, in the Mayoralty
of the Rt. Hon. John Pirie. Architect, William Tite, F.R.S. May God,
our Preserver, ward off destruction from this building, and from the
whole City."
After the manner of the City of London, a medal was struck to commemorate
the event, having on the obverse a profile portrait of Prince Albert,
with the legend "Albertus ubique honoratus," the reverse having a view of
the western portico of the Exchange. On 13 Jan. Mr. Roach Smith
exhibited at the Society of Antiquaries a medalet, found on the site of
the Exchange, evidently struck to commemorate Queen Elizabeth's patronage
of the original building, as it bore the Tudor Arms surrounded with the
inscription "Anglioe Regina ubique honorata."
Father Mathew was still doing his grand work in Ireland, but there is a
story told about him in the _Limerick Chronicle_, copied into the _Times_
of 17 Jan., that is too good to be omitted: "The Rev. Mr. Mathew arrived
in this city, last evening, by the Cork mail, _en route_ to Loughrea, and
put up at Moore's hotel. Immediately after his arrival became known,
hundreds of persons visited him at the hotel, where he administered the
pledge. One circumstance which came within public observation, we may
mention here, as illustrative of the effects of breaking the temperance
pledge:--A man, named Moynehan, a teetotaller, who worked at the Butter
Weigh-house, got drunk on Christmas Eve, and the next day, became
paralysed, his left arm, side and thigh being perfectly inanimate. He
was removed to Barrington's Hospital, and remained there under the care
of the surgeons, without improvement, until last evening, when his
friends, having heard of Father Mathew's arrival in town, went to the
hospital, and brought him out of his bed, on a man's back, to where the
Rev. Mr. Mathew was staying; a crowd had collected round the door, when
the unhappy invalid was carried into his presence, and the reverend
gentleman administered to him the pledge again, in a kind and impressive
manner, and the man instantly stood up, was assisted by his friends to
dress; and, to the astonishment of all, walked up William Street to his
home, followed by a crowd of people."
On 25 Jan., the Prince of Wales was christened in St. George's Chapel,
Windsor, by the name of Albert Edward, and on 20 Jan. appeared a letter
in the _Times_ from "A Conservative":
"Sir.--We learn from the _Times_ of to-day, that the Prince will be
called Albert Edward.
"It is natural, indeed, that the illustrious father, and still more,
that the illustrious mother, should prefer Albert Edward to Edward
Albert.
"But as I pray God that the boy may live to be King, to whatever
period his mother's life may be graciously extended, so I trust that
he may have every qualification for popularity as well as goodness,
and, amongst others, an old, and beloved, and accustomed _English
name_.
"And what so fit as Edward? Who more beloved, or glorious, than
Edward the Confessor--Edward I.--Edward III.--Edward VI.? A Catholic
Saint--a law-giver--a conqueror--a Protestant Reformer?
"The Princess Alexandrina Victoria was known by her second name
before she ascended the throne. So, I trust, may the young Prince be
known as Edward, Prince of Wales, to the people, hereafter, Edward
VII."
We all know how this gentleman's aspirations have been verified.
The King of Prussia was one of the Sponsors, and spent a few days after
the christening in England. Poor man! how they did make him work!
On the 26th he had to be at the presentation of new colours to the 72nd
Highlanders, and, in the afternoon, he visited Eton College.
27th.--Came to London by railway, and held a Court at Buckingham Palace,
where he received the _Corps Diplomatique_ and the Corporation of the
City of London. On his return to Windsor, he visited Hampton Court.
28th.--Again came to London, visited the Zoological Gardens, lunched with
Sir Robert Peel, and, afterwards, went to the Chapel Royal, Whitehall,
and the National Gallery--dining at Windsor.
29th.--Saw a review in the Home Park, then went to London, and dined with
his Minister, Chevalier Bunsen, in Carlton Terrace.
The 30th was Sunday, so the poor man was trotted off to St. Paul's
Cathedral to hear the Bishop of London preach. Lunched at the Mansion
House, visited the King of Hanover's apartments in St. James's Palace,
and Stafford House; attended afternoon service at the Royal German
Chapel, St. James's; visited the Duchess of Gloucester, in Piccadilly,
and returned to Windsor.
After this rest on the 30th, he visited Newgate Prison, when he was
received by the Lady Mayoress, Mrs. Fry, the Quaker philanthropist, the
Sheriffs, etc., and thence proceeded to lunch with Mrs. Fry, at Upton,
near Barking; at six he went to Drury Lane Theatre, and saw _The Two
Gentlemen of Verona_; dined with the Duke of Sutherland at Stafford
House, and slept at Buckingham Palace.
Next day, 1 Feb., at 10 a.m., he visited the Royal Society, Society of
Antiquaries and the Geological Society. Thence he went to the British
Museum, taking Mr. Solly's collection of pictures _en route_; and after
spending three hours at the Museum, he lunched with the Duke of Sussex at
Kensington Palace. In the evening, he underwent a dinner and concert
given by the Duke of Wellington at Apsley House.
Early in the morning of the 2nd, he sat to Mr. Hayter for his portrait in
a picture of the Christening. At 8.30 he embarked at Hungerford Wharf,
on a steamer, bound for the Thames Tunnel; after visiting which, he went
to the Tower of London. At 12 he returned to Buckingham Palace, where he
received addresses from the Bishop and Clergy of the Diocese of London;
the members of King's College, London; the Society for Promoting
Christianity among the Jews; the Prussian subjects resident in London;
and the German Lutheran clergy. He also received deputations from the
Bible Society, the Church Missionary Society, the Imperial Continental
Gas Company; and gave audience to the Prince of Capua, etc.; visited the
Archbishop of Canterbury at Lambeth; dined with the Duke of Cambridge;
saw the _Merry Wives of Windsor_ played at Covent Garden, and afterwards
attended an evening, party at Cambridge House.
On the 3rd he was present at the Queen's Opening of Parliament, then
received a deputation from the general body of Protestant Dissenters; and
visited the Queen Dowager, Earl of Jersey, the Dowager Duchess of
Richmond, the Duke of Cambridge and the Duke of Wellington; winding up
with dining with the Queen.
On the 4th they let him go--he paid a visit to the Queen at 9.30, went to
Woolwich and saw a review of Royal Artillery, lunched there, visited
Plumstead Marshes and the Arsenal, took leave of Prince Albert, and
everyone else, and went off to Ostend.
About this time was a curious craze, which took strange hold on the
people, that London was to be destroyed on the 16th of March, a belief
which seems to have been founded on two metrical prophecies, dated
respectively A.D. 1203 and 1598, said to be in the British Museum, where,
however, I have failed to find them; the former is:
"In eighteen hundred and forty-two
Four things the sun shall view;
London's rich and famous town
Hungry earth shall swallow down;
Storm and rain in France shall be,
Till every river runs a sea;
Spain shall be rent in twain,
And famine waste the land again;
So say I, the Monk of Dree,
In the twelve hundredth year and three."
The other is fathered on the famous astrologer, Dr. Dee:
"The Lord have mercy on you all,
Prepare yourselves for dreadful fall
Of house and land and human soul--
The measure of your sin is full.
"In the year One, Eight, and Forty-two,
Of the year that is so new,
In the third month, of that sixteen,
It may be a day or two between.
"Perhaps you'll soon be stiff and cold,
Dear Christian, be not stout and bold;
The mighty Kingly proud will see
This comes to pass, as my name's Dee."