CHAPTER I_Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II. Or, The Rambles and Adventures of Bob Tallyho, Esq., and His Cousin, the Hon. Tom Dashall, Through the Metropolis; Exhibiting a Living Picture of Fashionable Characters, Manners, and Amusements in High and Low Life (1821)

REAL LIFE IN LONDON

OR, THE RAMBLES AND ADVENTURES OF BOB TALLYHO, ESQ., AND HIS COUSIN, THE

HON. TOM DASHALL, THROUGH THE METROPOLIS; EXHIBITING A LIVING PICTURE OF

FASHIONABLE CHARACTERS, MANNERS, AND AMUSEMENTS IN HIGH AND LOW LIFE

By an AMATEUR

“'Tis pleasant through the loop-holes of retreat To peep at such a

world; to see the stir Of the great Babel, and not feel the crowd.”

--Cowper

[Illustration: titlepage1]

EMBELLISHED AND ILLUSTRATED WITH A SERIES OF

COLOURED PRINTS, DESIGNED AND ENGRAVED

BY MESSRS. HEATH, AIKEN, DIGHTON,

ROWLANDSON, ETC.

VOLUME I

A NEW EDITION

METHUEN & CO. LONDON

NOTE

This Issue, first published in 1905, is founded on the Edition printed

for Jones & Co. in the year 1821

[Illustration: frontispiece]

[Illustration: titlepage]

CONTENTS:

Chapter I.

Seduction from rural simplicity, page 2. Pleasures of the

table, 3. Overpowering oratory, 4. A warm dispute, 5.

Amicable arrangement, 6.

Chapter II.

Philosophical reflections, 7. A great master, 8. Modern

jehuism, 9. A coach race, 10. A wood-nymph, 11. Improvements

of the age, 12. An amateur of fashion, 13. Theatrical

criticism, 14. Reflections, 15.

Chapter III.

Hyde Park, and its various characters, 16. Sir F----s B----

tt, 22, Delightful reverie, 23.

Chapter IV.

Fresh game sprung, 24. Lord C----e, alias Coal-hole George,

25. Rot at Carlton Palace, 28. Once-a-week man, 29. Sunday

promenader, 30. How to raise the wind, 31. Lord Cripplegate

and his Cupid, 32. Live fish, 33. Delicacy, 34. A breathless

visitor, 35.

Chapter V.

A fashionable introduction, 36. A sparkling subject, 37. The

true spur to genius, 38. An agreeable surprise, 39. A

serious subject, 40. A pleasant fellow, 41. Lively gossip,

42. Living in style, 43. Modern good breeding, 45. Going to

see “you know who,” 46.

Chapter VI.

Early morning amusements, 47. Frightening to death, 48.

Improvements of the age, 49. Preparing for a swell, 50. The

acmé of barberism, 51. A fine specimen of the art, 52. Duels

by Cupid and Apollo, 53. Fashionable news continued, 54. Low

niggardly notions, 55. Scenes from Barber-Ross-a, 56. A snip

of the superfine, 59. The enraged Managers, 60. Cutting out,

and cutting up, 61. The whipstitch mercury, 62. All in the

wrong again, 63. A Venus de Medicis, 64. Delicacy alarmed,

65.

Chapter VII.

Preparing for a ramble, 66. A man of the town, 67. Bond

Street, 68. A hanger on, 70. A man of science, 71. Dandyism,

72. Dandy heroism, 74. Inebriety reproved, 75. My uncle's

card, 76. St. James's Palace, 77. Pall Mall-Waterloo Place,

etc., 79. An Irish Paddy, 80. Incorrigible prigs, 81. A hue

and cry, 82. A capture, 83. A wake, with an Irish howl, 84.

Vocabulary of the new school, 85. Additional company, 87.

Chapter VIII.

Public Office, Bow Street, 88. Irish generosity, 89. A bit

of gig, 90. “I loves fun,” 91. A row with the Charleys, 92.

Judicial sagacity, 93. Watch-house scenes, 94. A rummish

piece of business, 95. The Brown Bear well baited, 96.

Somerset House, 97. An importunate customer, 99.

Peregrinations proposed, 100.

Chapter IX.

The Bonassus, 101. A Knight of the New Order, 102. Medical

quacks, 103. Medical (not Tailors') Boards, 105. Superlative

modesty, 106. Hard pulling and blowing, 107. Knightly

medicals, 108. Buffers and Duffers, 109. Extremes of

fortune, 110. Signs of the Times, 111. Expensive spree, 112.

The young Cit, 113. All in confusion, 115. Losses and

crosses, 116. Rum customers, 117. A genteel hop, 118. Max

and music, 119. Amateurs and actors, 120. A well-known

character, 121. Championship, 122. A grand spectacle, 123.

Adulterations, 124. More important discoveries, 125. Wonders

of cast-iron and steam, 126. Shops of the new school, 127.

Irish paper-hanging, 128.

Chapter X.

Heterogeneous mass, 129. Attractions of the theatre, 130.

Tragedy talk, 131. Authors and actors, 132. Chancery

injunctions, 133. Olympic music, 134. Dandy larks and

sprees, 135. The Theatre, 136. Its splendid establishment,

137. Nymphs of the saloon, 138. Torments of love and gout,

139. Prostitution, 140. A shameful business, 141. Be gone,

dull care, 142. Convenient refreshment, 143. A lushy cove,

144. The sleeper awake, 145. All on lire, 146. A short

parley, 147.

Chapter XI.

Fire, confusion and alarm, 148. Snuffy tabbies and boosy

kids, 149. A cooler for hot disputes, 150. An overturned

Charley, 151. Resurrection rigs, 152. Studies from life,

154. An agreeable situation, 155. A nocturnal visit to a

lady, 156. Sharp's the word, 157. Frolicsome fellows, 158.

Retirement, 159.

Chapter XII.

Tattersall's, 160. Friendly dealings, 161. Laudable company,

162. The Sportsman's exchange, 163. An unlimited order, 164.

How to ease heavy pockets, 165. Body-snatchers and Bum-

traps, 166. The Sharps and the Flats, 167. A secret

expedition, 168. A pleasant rencontre, 169. Accommodating

friends, 170. The female banker, 171. A buck of the first

cut, 172. A highly finished youth, 173. An addition to the

party, 174.

Chapter XIII.

A promenade, 175. Something the matter, 176. Quizzical hits,

177. London friendship, 178. Fashion versus Reason, 179.

Dinners of the Ton, 180. Brilliant mob of a ball-room, 181.

What can the matter be? 182. Something-A-Miss, 183.

Chapter XIV.

The centre of attraction, 185. The circulating library, 186.

Library wit, 187. Fitting on the cap, 188. Breaking up, 189.

Gaming, 190. Hells-Greeks-Black-legs, 191. How to become a

Greek, 192. Valuable instructions, 193. Gambling-house à la

Française, 194. Visitors' cards, 195. Opening scene, 196.

List of Nocturnal Hells, 197. Rouge et Noir Tables, 198.

Noon-day Hells, 199. Hell broke up, and the devil to pay,

200. A story, 202. Swindling Jews, 205. Ups and downs, 206.

High fellows, 207. Mingled company, 208. Severe studies,

209.

Chapter XV.

Newspaper recreations, 210. Value of Newspapers, 211. Power

of imagination, 212. Rich bill of fare, 213. Proposed Review

of the Arts, 214. Demireps and Cyprians, 215. Dashing

characters, 216. Female accommodations, 217. Rump and dozen,

218. Maggot race for a hundred, 219. Prime gig, larks and

sprees, 220. Female jockeyship, 221. Delicate amusements for

the fair sex, 222. Female life in London, 224. Ciphers in

society, 225. Ciphers of all sorts, 226. Hydraulics, 227.

Watery humours, 228. General street engagement, 229. Harmony

restored, 230.

Chapter XVI.

The double disappointment, 231. Heading made easy, 232.

Exhibition of Engravings, 233. How to cut a dash, 235.

Dashing attitude, costume, etc., 236. A Dasher-Street-

walking, etc., 237. Dancing--“all the go,” 238. Exhibition,

Somerset House, 239. Royal Academy, Somerset House, 240. The

Sister Arts, 241. Character-Caricature, etc., 242. Moral

tendency of the Arts, 243. Fresh game sprung, 244. Law and

Lawyers, 245. Law qualifications, 247. Benchers, 248. Temple

Libraries-Church, 249. St. Dunstan's Bell-thumpers, 250.

Political Cobbler, 251. Coffee-houses, 252. Metropolitan

accommodations, 253. Chop-house delights and recreations,

254. Daffy's Elixir, Blue Ruin, etc., 256. The Queen's gin-

shop, 257.

Chapter XVII.

Globe Coffee-house, 258. A humorous sort of fellow, 259. A

Punster, 260. Signals and Signs, 261. Disconcerted

Professors, 262. A learned Butcher, 263. A successful

stratagem, 264. A misconception, 265. A picture of London,

266. All in high glee, 268.

Chapter XVIII.

A Slap at Slop, 269. A Nondescript, 270. Romanis, 271. Bow

steeple-Sir Chris. Wren, 272. The Temple of Apollo, 273.

Caricatures, 274. Rich stores of literature, 275. Pulpit

oratory, 276. Seven reasons, 277. Street impostors and

impositions, 278. Impudent beggars, 280. Wise men of the

East, 281. A Royal Visitor and Courtier reproved, 282.

Confusion of tongues, 284. Smoking and drinking, 285.

Knights of the Round Table, 286. The joys of milling, 287.

Noses and nosegays, 288. A Bumpkin in town, 289. Piggish

propensities, 2907 Joys of the bowl, 291.

Chapter XIX.

Jolly boys, 292. Dark-house Lane, 293. A breeze sprung up,

294. Business done in a crack, 295. Billingsgate, 296.

Refinements in language, 297. Real Life at Billingsgate,

298. The Female Fancy, 299. The Custom House, Long Room,

etc., 300. Greeting mine host, 302. A valuable customer,

303. A public character, 304.

Chapter xx.

The Tower of London, 305. Confusion of titles, 306. Interior

of the Trinity House, 307. Rag Fair commerce, 308. Itinerant

Jews and Depredators, 309. Lamentable state of the Jews,

310. Duke's Place and Synagogue, 311. Portuguese Jews, 312.

Bank of England, 313. An eccentric character, 314.

Lamentable effects of forgery, 315. Singular alteration of

mind, 316. Imaginary wealth, 317. Joint Stock Companies,

318. Auction Mart-Courtois, 319. Irresistible arguments,

320. Wealth without pride, 321. Royal Exchange, 322. A

prophecy fulfilled, 323. Lloyd's-Gresham Lecture, etc., 324.

The essential requisite, 325. Egress by storm, 326.

Chapter XXI.

Incident “ad infinitum,” 327. A distressed Poet, 328.

Interesting calculations, 329. Ingenuity in puffing, 330.

Blacking maker's Lauréat, 331. Miseries of literary

pursuits, 332. Suttling house, Horse Guards, 333. Merits of

two heroes, 334. Hibernian eloquence, 335. A pertinacious

Disputant, 336. Peace restored-Horse Guards, 337. Old

habits-The Miller's horse, 338. Covent Garden-Modern Drury,

339 A more than Herculean labour, 340. Police Office scene,

341. Bartholomew Fair, 342. A Knight of the Needle, 343.

Variance of opinion, 344. A visit to the Poet, 345. Produce

of literary pursuits, 346. Quantum versus Quality, 347.

Publishing by subscription, 348. Wealth and ignorance, 349.

Mutual gratification, 350.

Chapter XXII.

Symptoms of alarm, 351. Parties missing, 352. A strange

world, 353. Wanted, and must come, 354. Expectation alive,

355. A cure for melancholy, 356. Real Life a game, 357. The

game over, 358. Money-dropping arts, 359. Dividing a prize,

360. The Holy Alliance broke up, 361. New method of Hat

catching, 362. Dispatching a customer, 363. Laconic

colloquy, 364. Barkers, 365. A mistake corrected, 366.

Pawnbrokers, 367. The biter bit, 368. Miseries of

prostitution, 369. Wardrobe accommodations, 370. New species

of depredation, 371.

Chapter XXIII.

The Lock-up House, 372. Real Life with John Doe, etc., 373.

Every thing done by proxy, 374. Lottery of marriage, 375.

Sharp-shooting and skirmishing, 376. A fancy sketch, 377.

The universal talisman, 378. Living within bounds, 379. How

to live for ten years, 380. An accommodating host, 381. Life

in a lock-up house, 382.

Chapter XXIV.

A successful election, 383. Patriotic intentions, 384.

Political dinner, 385. Another bear-garden, 386. Charley's

theatre, 387. Bear-baiting sports, 388. The coronation, 389.

Coronation splendour, 390.

Chapter XXV.

Fancy sports, 392. Road to a fight, 393. New sentimental

journey, 394. Travelling chaff, 395. Humours of the road,

396. Lads of the fancy, 397. Centre of attraction, 398. A

force march, 399. Getting to work, 400. True game, 401. The

sublime and beautiful, 402. All's well-good night, 403.

Chapter XXVI.

Promenading reflections, 404. Anticipation, 405. Preliminary

observations, 406. Characters in masquerade, 407. Irish

sympathy, 408. Whimsicalities of character, 409. Masquerade

characters, 410. The watchman, 411. New characters, 412. The

sport alive, 413. Multifarious amusements, 414. Doctors

disagree, 415. Israelitish honesty, 416.

Chapter XXVII.

Ideal enjoyments, 417. A glance at new objects, 418. Street-

walking nuisances, 419. Cries of London-Mud-larks, etc.,

420. The Monument, 421. London Stone, 422. General Post-

Office, 423. Preparations for returning, 424. So endeth the

volume, 425.

LIST OF THE PLATES

The Principal Characters presented to Public Exhibition

throughout Real Life in London Frontispiece.

Illustrated Title Page.

Hyde Park 16

Epsom Races 44

Fives Court 71

LEVEE, Carlton House 79

Tom and Bob catching a Charley napping 92

Theatre 130

Lobby at Drury Lane 138

Tattersall's 160

Modern Hell 196

Exhibition, Somerset House 240

Road to a Fight (Plate 1.) 286

Billingsgate 298

Political Dinner 385

Charley's Theatre 387

Coronation 390

Road to a Fight (Plate 2.) 398

Private Turn-up 402

Masquerade 410

REAL LIFE IN LONDON

CHAPTER I

Triumphant returning at night with the spoil,

Like Bachanals, shouting and gay:

How sweet with a bottle and song to refresh,

And lose the fatigues of the day.

With sport, wit, and wine, fickle fortune defy,

Dull 'wisdom all happiness sours;

Since Life is no more than a passage at best,

Let's strew the way over with flowers.

~1~~“THEY order these things better in London,” replied the Hon. Tom

Dashall, to an old weather-beaten sportsman, who would fain have made a

convert of our London _Sprig of Fashion_ to the sports and delights of

rural life. The party were regaling themselves after the dangers and

fatigues of a very hard day's fox-chace; and, while the sparkling glass

circulated, each, anxious to impress on the minds of the company the

value of the exploits and amusements in which he felt most delight,

became more animated and boisterous in his oratory--forgetting that

excellent regulation which forms an article in some of the rules and

orders of our “_Free and Easies_” in London, “that no more than three

gentlemen shall be allowed to speak at the same time.” The whole party,

consisting of fourteen, like a pack in full cry, had, with the kind

assistance of the “rosy god,” become at the same moment most animated,

not to say vociferous, orators. The young squire, Bob Tally ho, (as he

was called) of Belville Hall, who had recently come into possession of

this fine and extensive domain, was far from feeling indifferent to the

pleasures of a sporting life, and, in the chace, had even acquired the

reputation of being a “keen sportsman:” but the regular intercourse

which took place between him and his cousin, the Hon. Tom Dashall, of

Bond Street notoriety, had in ~2~~some measure led to an indecision

of character, and often when perusing the lively and fascinating

descriptions which the latter drew of the passing scenes in the

gay metropolis, Bob would break out into an involuntary exclamation

of--“Curse me, but after all, this only is Real Life; “--while, for the

moment, horses, dogs, and gun, with the whole paraphernalia of

sporting, were annihilated. Indeed, to do justice to his elegant

and highly-finished friend, these pictures were the production of a

master-hand, and might have made a dangerous impression on minds

more stoical and determined than that of Bob's. The opera, theatres,

fashionable pursuits, characters, objects, &c. all became in succession

the subjects of his pen; and if lively description, blended with

irresistible humour and sarcastic wit, possessed any power of seduction,

these certainly belonged to Bob's honourable friend and relative, as an

epistolary correspondent. The following Stanzas were often recited by

him with great feeling and animation:--

Parent of Pleasure and of many a groan,

I should be loath to part with thee, I own,

Dear Life!

To tell the truth, I'd rather lose a _wife_,

Should Heav'n e'er deem me worthy of possessing

That best, that most invaluable blessing.

I thank thee, that thou brought'st me into being;

The things of this our world are well worth seeing;

And let me add, moreover, well worth feeling;

Then what the Devil would people have?

These gloomy hunters of the grave,

For ever sighing, groaning, canting, kneeling.

Some wish they never had been born, how odd!

To see the handy works of God,

In sun and moon, and starry sky;

Though last, not least, to see sweet Woman's charms,--

Nay, more, to clasp them in our arms,

And pour the soul in love's delicious sigh,

Is well worth coming for, I'm sure,

Supposing that thou gav'st us nothing more.

Yet, thus surrounded, Life, dear Life, I'm thine,

And, could I always call thee mine,

I would not quickly bid this world farewell;

But whether here, or long or short my stay,

I'll keep in mind for ev'ry day

An old French motto, “_Vive la bagatelle!_”

Misfortunes are this lottery-world's sad blanks;

Presents, in my opinion, not worth thanks.

The pleasures are the twenty thousand prizes,

Which nothing but a _downright ass_ despises.

It was not, however, the mere representations of Bob's friend, with

which, (in consequence of the important result,) we commenced our

chapter, that produced the powerful effect of fixing the wavering mind

of Bob--No, it was the air--the manner--the _je ne sais quoi_, by which

these representations were accompanied: the curled lip of contempt, and

the eye, measuring as he spoke, from top to toe, his companions, with

the cool elegant sang froid and self-possession displayed in his own

person and manner, which became a _fiat_ with Bob, and which effected

the object so long courted by his cousin.

After the manner of Yorick (though, by the bye, no sentimentalist) Bob

thus reasoned with himself:--“If an acquaintance with London is to give

a man these airs of superiority--this ascendancy--elegance of manners,

and command of enjoyments--why, London for me; and if pleasure is the

game in view, there will I instantly pursue the sport.”

The song and toast, in unison with the sparkling glass, followed each

other in rapid succession. During which, our elegant London visitor

favoured the company with the following effusion, sung in a style equal

to (though unaccompanied with the affected airs and self-importance of)

a first-rate professor:--

SONG.

If to form and distinction, in town you would bow,

Let appearance of wealth be your care:

If your friends see you live, not a creature cares how,

The question will only be, Where?

A circus, a polygon, crescent, or place,

With ideas of magnificence tally;

Squares are common, streets queer, but a lane's a disgrace;

And we've no such thing as an alley.

A first floor's pretty well, and a parlour so so;

But, pray, who can give themselves airs,

Or mix with high folks, if so vulgarly low

To live up in a two pair of stairs?

The garret, excuse me, I mean attic floor,

(That's the name, and it's right you should know it,)

Would he tenantless often; but genius will soar,

And it does very well for a poet.

These amusements of the table were succeeded by a most stormy and

lengthened debate, (to use a parliamentary phrase) during which, Bob's

London friend had with daring heroism opposed the whole of the party,

in supporting the superiority of Life in London over every pleasure

the country could afford. After copious libations to Bacchus, whose

influence at length effected what oratory had in vain essayed, and

silenced these contending and jarring elements, “grey-eyed Morn” peeped

intrusively amid the jovial crew, and Somnus, (with the cart before the

horse) stepping softly on tip-toe after his companion, led, if not by,

at least accompanied with, the music of the nose, each to his snoring

pillow.

----“Glorious resolve!” exclaimed Tom, as soon as his friend had next

morning intimated his intention,--“nobly resolved indeed!--“What! shall

he whom Nature has formed to shine in the dance and sparkle in the

ring--to fascinate the fair--lead and control the fashions--attract the

gaze and admiration of the surrounding crowd!--shall he pass a life, or

rather a torpid existence, amid country bumpkins and Johnny-raws? Forbid

it all ye powers that rule with despotic sway where Life alone is to

be found,--forbid it cards--dice--balls--fashion, and ye gay et

coteras,--forbid”----“Pon my soul,” interrupted Bob, “you have

frightened me to death! I thought you were beginning an Epic,--a thing

I abominate of all others. I had rather at any time follow the pack on

a foundered horse than read ten lines of Homer; so, my dear fellow,

descend for God's sake from the Heroics.”

Calmly let me, at least, begin Life's chapter,

Not panting for a hurricane of rapture;

Calm let me step--not riotous and jumping:

With due decorum, let my heart

Try to perform a sober part,

Not at the ribs be ever bumping--bumping.

Rapture's a charger--often breaks his girt,

Runs oft”, and flings his rider in the dirt.

~5~~“However, it shall be so: adieu, my dear little roan

filly,--Snow-ball, good by,--my new patent double-barrelled

percussion--ah, I give you all up!--Order the tandem, my dear Tom,

whenever you please; whisk me up to the fairy scenes you have so often

and admirably described; and, above all things, take me as an humble and

docile pupil under your august auspices and tuition.” Says Tom, “thou

reasonest well.”

The rapidity with which great characters execute their determinations

has been often remarked by authors. The dashing tandem, with its

beautiful high-bred bits of blood, accompanied by two grooms on

horsebaek in splendid liveries, stood at the lodge-gate, and our heroes

had only to bid adieu to relatives and friends, and commence their rapid

career.

Before we start on this long journey of one hundred and eighty miles,

with the celerity which is unavoidable in modern travelling, it may be

prudent to ascertain that our readers are still in company, and that we

all start fairly together; otherwise, there is but little probability

of our ever meeting again on the journey;--so now to satisfy queries,

remarks, and animadversions.

“Why, Sir, I must say it is a new way of introducing a story, and

appears to me very irregular.--What! tumble your hero neck and heels

into the midst of a drunken fox-hunting party, and then carry him

off from his paternal estate, without even noticing his ancestors,

relatives, friends, connexions, or prospects--without any description

of romantic scenery on the estate--without so much as an allusion to the

female who first kindled in his breast the tender passion, or a detail

of those incidents with which it is usually connected!--a strange, very

strange way indeed this of commencing.”

“My dear Sir, I agree with you as to the deviation from customary rules:

but allow me to ask,--is not one common object--amusement, all we have

in view? Suppose then, by way of illustration, you were desirous of

arriving at a given place or object, to which there were several roads,

and having traversed one of these till the monotony of the scene had

rendered every object upon it dull and wearisome, would you quarrel with

the traveller who pointed out another road, merely because it was a new

one? Considering the impatience of our young friends, the one to return

to scenes in which alone he can ~6~~live, and the other to realize

ideal dreams of happiness, painted in all the glowing tints that a

warm imagination and youthful fancy can pourtray, it will be impossible

longer to continue the argument. Let me, therefore, entreat you to cut

it short--accompany us in our rapid pursuit after Life in London; nor

risk for the sake of a little peevish criticism, the cruel reflection,

that by a refusal, you would, probably, be in _at the death_ of the

Author--by Starvation.”

CHAPTER II

“The panting steed the hero's empire feel,

Who sits triumphant o'er the flying wheel,

And as he guides it through th' admiring throng,

With what an air he holds the reins, and smacks the silken thong!”

ORDINARY minds, in viewing distant objects, first see the obstacles that

intervene, magnify the difficulty of surmounting them, and sit down in

despair. The man of genius with his mind's-eye pointed steadfastly, like

the needle towards the pole, on the object of his ambition, meets and

conquers every difficulty in detail, and the mass dissolves before

him as the mountain snow yields, drop by drop, to the progressive but

invincible operation of the solar beam. Our honourable friend was well

aware that a perfect knowledge of the art of driving, and the character

of a “_first-rate whip_,” were objects worthy his ambition; and that,

to hold four-in-hand--turn a corner in style--handle the reins in

form--take a fly off the tip of his leader's ear--square the elbows, and

keep the wrists pliant, were matters as essential to the formation of a

man of fashion as _dice or milling_: it was a principle he had long laid

down and strictly adhered to, that whatever tended to the completion

of that character, should be acquired to the very acmé of perfection,

without regard to ulterior consequences, or minor pursuits.

In an early stage, therefore, of his fashionable course of studies,

the whip became an object of careful solicitude; and after some private

tuition, he first exhibited his prowess about twice a week, on the

box of a Windsor stage, tipping coachy a crown for the indulgence and

improvement it afforded. Few could boast of being more fortunate

during a noviciate: two overturns only occurred in the whole course of

practice, and except the trifling accident of an old lady being killed,

a shoulder or two dislocated, and about half a dozen legs and arms

~8~~broken, belonging to people who were not at all known in high

life, nothing worthy of notice may be said to have happened on these

occasions. 'Tis true, some ill-natured remarks appeared in one of the

public papers, on the “conduct of coachmen entrusting the reins to

young practitioners, and thus endangering the lives of his majesty's

subjects;” but these passed off like other philanthropic suggestions of

the day, unheeded and forgotten.

The next advance of our hero was an important step. The mail-coach is

considered the school; its driver, the great master of the art--the

_Phidias_ of the statuary--the _Claude_ of the landscape-painter. To

approach him without preparatory instruction and study, would be like

an attempt to copy the former without a knowledge of anatomy, or the

latter, while ignorant of perspective. The standard of excellence--the

model of perfection, all that the highest ambition can attain, is to

approach as near as possible the original; to attempt a deviation, would

be to _bolt out of the course, snap the curb, and run riot_. Sensible

of the importance of his character, accustomed to hold the reins of

arbitrary power; and seated where will is law, the mail-whip carries

in his appearance all that may be expected from his elevated situation.

Stern and sedate in his manner, and given to taciturnity, he speaks

sententiously, or in monosyllables. If he passes on the road even an

humble follower of the profession, with four tidy ones in hand, he

views him with ineffable contempt, and would consider it an irreparable

disgrace to appear conscious of the proximity. Should it be a country

gentleman of large property and influence, and he held the reins,

and handled the whip with a knowledge of the art, so to “get over the

ground,” coachy might, perhaps, notice him “_en passant_,” by a slight

and familiar nod; but it is only the peer, or man of first-rate sporting

celebrity, that is honoured with any thing like a familiar mark of

approbation and acquaintance; and these, justly appreciating the proud

distinction, feel higher gratification by it than any thing the monarch

could bestow: it is an inclination of the head, not forward, in the

manner of a nod, but towards the off shoulder, accompanied with a

certain jerk and elevation from the opposite side. But here neither pen

nor pencil can depict; it belongs to him alone whose individual powers

can nightly keep the house ~9~~in a roar, to catch the living manner and

present it to the eye.

“----A merrier man

Within the limit of becoming mirth,

I never spent an hour's talk withall:

His eye begets occasion for his wit;

For every object that the one doth catch

The other turns to a mirth-moving jest.”

And now, gentle reader, if the epithet means any thing, you cannot but

feel disposed to good humour and indulgence: Instead of rattling you

off, as was proposed at our last interview, and whirling you at the

rate of twelve miles an hour, exhausted with fatigue, and half _dead_

in pursuit of _Life_, we have proceeded gently along the road, amusing

ourselves by the way, rather with drawing than driving. 'Tis high time,

however, we made some little progress in our journey: “Come Bob,

take the reins--push on--keep moving--touch up the leader into a

hand-gallop--give Snarler his head--that's it my tight one, keep out of

the ruts--mind your quartering--not a gig, buggy, tandem, or tilbury,

have we yet seen on the road--what an infernal place for a human

being to inhabit!--curse me if I had not as lief emigrate to the back

settlements of America: one might find some novelty and amusement

there--I'd have the woods cleared--cut out some turnpike-roads, and,

like Palmer, start the first mail”----“Stop, Tom, don't set off yet

to the Illinois--here's something ahead, but what the devil it is I

cant guess--why it's a barge on wheels, and drove four-in-hand.”--“Ha,

ha--barge indeed, Bob, you seem to know as much about coaches as Snarler

does of Back-gammon: I suppose you never see any thing in this quarter

but the old heavy Bridgewater--why we have half a dozen new launches

every week, and as great a variety of names, shape, size, and colour,

as there are ships in the navy--we have the heavy coach, light coach,

Caterpillar, and Mail--the Balloon, Comet, Fly, Dart, Regulator,

Telegraph, Courier, Times, High-flyer, Hope, with as many others as

would fill a list as long as my tandem-whip. What you now see is one of

the _new patent safety-coaches_--you can't have an overturn if you're

ever so disposed for a spree. The old city cormorants, after a gorge of

mock-turtle, turn into them for a journey, and drop off in a ~~10~~nap,

with as much confidence of security to their neck and limbs as if they

had mounted a rocking-horse, or drop't into an arm-chair.”--“Ah! come,

the scene improves, and becomes a little like Life--here's a dasher

making up to the Safety--why its--no, impossible--can't be--gad it

is tho'--the Dart, by all that's good! and drove by Hell-fire

Dick!--there's a fellow would do honour to any box--drove the Cambridge

Fly three months--pass'd every thing on the road, and because he

overturned in three or four hard matches, the stupid rascals of

proprietors moved him off the ground. Joe Spinum, who's at Corpus

Christi, matched Dick once for 50, when he carried five inside

and thirteen at top, besides heavy luggage, against the other

Cambridge--never was a prettier race seen at Newmarket--Dick must

have beat hollow, but a d----d fat alderman who was inside, and felt

alarmed at the velocity of the vehicle, moved to the other end of the

seat: this destroyed the equilibrium--over they went, into a four-feet

ditch, and Joe lost his match. However, he had the satisfaction of

hearing afterwards, that the old cormorant who occasioned his loss, had

nearly burst himself by the concussion.”

“See, see!--Dick's got up to, and wants to give the Safety the go

by--gad, its a race--go it Dick--now Safety--d----d good cattle

both--lay it in to 'em Dick--leaders neck and neck--pretty race

by G----! Ah, its of no use Safety--Dick wont stand it--a dead

beat--there she goes--all up--over by Jove “----“I can't see for that

tree--what do you say Tom, is the race over?”--“Race, ah! and the coach

too--knew Dick would beat him--would have betted the long odds the

moment I saw it was him.”

The tandem had by this time reached the race-course, and the disaster

which Tom had hardly thought worth noticing in his lively description of

the sport, sure enough had befallen the _new 'patent Safety_, which was

about mid way between an upright and a side position, supported by the

high and very strong quicksett-hedge against which it hath fallen. Our

heroes dismounted, left Flip at the leader's head, and with Ned, the

other groom, proceeded to offer their services. Whilst engaged in

extricating the horses, which had become entangled in their harness, and

were kicking and plunging, their attention was arrested by the screams

and outrageous vociferations of a very fat, middle-aged woman, who

had ~11~~been jerked from her seat on the box to one not quite so

smooth--the top of the hedge, which, with the assistance of an old alder

tree, supported the coach. Tom found it impossible to resist the violent

impulse to risibility which the ludicrous appearance of the old lady

excited, and as no serious injury was sustained, determined to enjoy the

fun.

“If e'er a pleasant mischief sprang to view,

At once o'er hedge and ditch away he flew,

Nor left the game till he had run it down.”

Approaching her with all the gravity of countenance he was master

of--“Madam,” says he, “are we to consider you as one of the Sylvan

Deities who preside over these scenes, or connected in any way with the

vehicle?”--“Wehicle, indeed, you _hunhuman-brutes_, instead of assisting

a poor distressed female who has been chuck'd from top of that there

_safety-thing_, as they calls it, into such a dangerous _pisition_, you

must be chuckling and grinning, must you? I only wish my husband, Mr.

Giblet, was here, he should soon wring your necks, and pluck some of

your fine feathers for you, and make you look as foolish as a peacock

without his tail.” Mrs. Giblet's ire at length having subsided, she was

handed down in safety on _terra firma_, and our heroes transferred their

assistance to the other passengers. The violence of the concussion had

burst open the coach-door on one side, and a London _Dandy_, of the

exquisite genus, lay in danger of being pressed to a jelly beneath the

weight of an infirm and very stout old farmer, whom they had pick'd up

on the road; and it was impossible to get at, so as to afford relief to

the sufferers, till the coach was raised in a perpendicular position.

The farmer was no sooner on his legs, than clapping his hand with

anxious concern into an immense large pocket, he discovered that a

bottle of brandy it contained was crack'd, and the contents beginning to

escape: “I ax pardon, young gentleman,” says he, seizing a hat that the

latter held with great care in his hand, and applying it to catch the

liquor--“I ax pardon for making so free, but I see the hat is a little

out of order, and can't be much hurt; and its a pity to waste the

liquor, such a price as it is now-a-days.”--“Sir, what do you mean,

shouldn't have thought of your taking such liberties indeed, but makes

good the old saying--impudence and ~12~~ignorance go together: my hat

out of order, hey! I'd have you to know, Sir, that _that there_ hat

was bought of Lloyd, in Newgate-street,{1} only last Thursday,-and cost

eighteen shillings; and if you look at the book in his _vindow_ on

hats, dedicated to the head, you'll find that this here hat is a real

exquisite; so much for what you know about hats, my old fellow--I burst

my stays all to pieces in saving it from being squeezed out of shape,

and now this old brute has made a brandy-bottle of it.”--“Oh! oh! my

young Miss in disguise,” replied the farmer, “I thought I smelt a

rat when the Captain left the coach, under pretence of walking up the

hill--what, I suppose vou are bound for Gretna, both of vou, hev young

Lady?”

Every thing appertaining to the coach being now righted, our young

friends left the company to adjust their quarrels and pursue their

journey at discretion, anxious to reach the next town as expeditiously

as possible, where they purposed sleeping for the night. They mounted

the tandem, smack went the whip, and in a few minutes the stage-coach

and its motley group had disappeared.

Having reached their destination, and passed the night comfortably, they

next morning determined to kill an hour or two in the town; and were

taking a stroll arm in arm, when perceiving by a playbill, that an

amateur of fashion from the theatres royal, Drury Lane and Haymarket,

was just _come in_, and would shortly _come out_,

1 It would be injustice to great talents, not to notice,

among other important discoveries and improvements of the

age, the labours of Lloyd, who has classified and arranged

whatever relates to that necessary article of personal

elegance, the Hat. He has given the world a volume on the

subject of Hats, dedicated to their great patron, the Head,

in which all the endless varieties of shape, dependent

before on mere whim and caprice, are reduced to fixed

principles, and designated after the great characters by

which each particular fashion was first introduced. The

advantages to gentlemen residing in the country must be

incalculable: they have only to refer to the engravings in

Mr. Lloyd's work, where every possible variety is clearly

defined, and to order such as may suit the rank or character

in life they either possess, or wish to assume. The

following enumeration comprises a few of the latest fashions:

--The Wellington--The Regent--The Caroline--The

Bashful--The Dandy--The Shallow--The Exquisite--The Marquis

--The New Dash--The Clerieus--The Tally-ho--The Noble Lord--

The Taedum--The Bang-up--The Irresistible--The Bon Ton--The

Paris Beau--The Baronet--The Eccentric--The Bit of Blood,

&c.

~13~~in a favourite character, they immediately directed their steps

towards a barn, with the hope of witnessing a rehearsal. Chance

introduced them to the country manager, and Tom having asked several

questions about this candidate, was assured by Mr. Mist:

“Oh! he is a gentleman-performer, and very useful to us managers, for he

not only finds his own dresses and properties, but 'struts and frets

his hour on the stage without any emoluments. His aversion to salary

recommended him to the lessee of Drury-lane theatre, though his services

had been previously rejected by the sub-committee.”

“Can it be that game-cock, the gay Lothario,” said Tom, “who sports an

immensity of diamonds?”--

Of Coates's frolics he of course well knew, Rare pastime for the

ragamuffin crew! Who welcome with the crowing of a cock, This hero of

the buskin and sock.

“Oh! no,” rejoined Mr. Mist, “that cock don't crow now: this gentleman,

I assure you, has been at a theatrical school; he was instructed by the

person who made Master Bettv a young Roscius.”

Tom shook his head, as if he doubted the abilities of this instructed

actor. To be a performer, he thought as arduous as to be a poet; and

if _poeta nascitur, non fit_--consequently an actor must have natural

abilities.

“And pray what character did this gentleman enact at Drury-lane

Theatre?”

“Hamlet, Prince of Denmark,” answered Mr. Mist--“Shakespeare is his

favourite author.”

“And what said the critics--'to be, or not to be'--I suppose he repeated

the character?”

“Oh! Sir, it was stated in the play-bill, that he met with great

applause, and he was announced for the character again; but, as the Free

List was not suspended, and our amateur dreaded some hostility from that

quarter, he performed the character by proxy, and repeated it at the

Little Theatre in the Haymarket.”

“Then the gentlemen of the Free List,” remarked Bob, “are free and

easy?”

“Yes--yes--they laugh and cough whenever they please: indeed, they are

generally excluded whenever a ~14~~full house is expected, as _ready

money_ is an object to the poor manager of Drury-lane Theatre. The

British Press, however, is always excepted.”

“The British press!--Oh! you mean the newspapers,” exclaimed Tom--“then

I dare say they were very favourable to this Amateur of Fashion?”

“No--not very--indeed; they don't join the manager in his puffs,

notwithstanding his marked civility to them: one said he was a methodist

preacher, and sermonized the character--another assimilated him to a

school-boy saying his lesson--in short, they were very ill-natured--but

hush--here he is--walk in, gentlemen, and you shall hear him rehearse

some of King Richard”--

“King Richard!” What ambition! thought Bob to himself--“late a Prince,

and now--a king!”

“I assure you,” continued Mr. Mist, “that all his readings are new; but

according to my humble observation, his action does not always suit the

word--for when he exclaims--' may Hell make crook'd my mind,' he looks

up to Heaven”--

“Looks up to Heaven!” exclaimed Tom; “then this London star makes a

solecism with his eyes.”

Our heroes now went into the barn, and took a private corner, when they

remained invisible. Their patience was soon exhausted, and Bob and his

honourable cousin were both on the fidgits, when the representative of

King Richard exclaimed--

“Give me a horse----”

“--Whip!” added Tom with stunning vociferation, before King Richard

could bind up his wounds. The amateur started, and betrayed consummate

embarrassment, as if the horsewhip had actually made its entrance. Tom

and his companion stole away, and left the astounded monarch with the

words--“twas all a dream.”

While returning to the inn, our heroes mutually commented on the

ambition and folly of those amateurs of fashion, who not only sacrifice

time and property, but absolutely take abundant pains to render

themselves ridiculous. “Certainly,” says Tom, “this _cacoethes ludendi_

has made fools of several: this infatuated youth though not possessed

of a single requisite for the stage, no doubt flatters himself he is

a second Kean; and, regardless ~15~~of his birth and family, he will

continue his strolling life

Till the broad shame comes staring in his face,

And critics hoot the blockhead as he struts.”

Having now reached the inn, and finding every thing adjusted for their

procedure, our heroes mounted their vehicle, and went in full gallop for

Real Life in London.

CHAPTER III

“Round, round, and round-about, they whiz, they fly,

With eager worrying, whirling here and there,

They know, nor whence, nor whither, where, nor why.

In utter hurry-scurry, going, coming,

Maddening the summer air with ceaseless humming.”

~16~~OUR travellers now approached at a rapid rate, the desideratim

of their eager hopes and wishes: to one all was novel, wonderful, and

fascinating; to the other, it was the welcome return to an old and

beloved friend, the separation from whom had but increased the ardour

of attachment.--“We, now,” says Dashall, “are approaching Hyde-Park,

and being Sunday, a scene will at once burst upon you, far surpassing

in reality any thing I have been able to pourtray, notwithstanding

the flattering compliments you have so often paid to my talents for

description.”

[Illustration: page16 Hyde-Park]

They had scarcely entered the Park-gate, when Lady Jane Townley's

carriage crossed them, and Tom immediately approached it, to pay his

respects to an old acquaintance. Her lady-ship congratulated him on his

return to town, lamented the serious loss the _beau-monde_ had sustained

by his absence, and smiling archly at his young friend, was happy

to find he had not returned empty-handed, but with a recruit, whose

appearance promised a valuable accession to their select circle. “You

would not have seen me here,” continued her ladyship, “but I vow and

protest it is utterly impossible to make a prisoner of one's self, such

a day as this, merely because it is Sunday--for my own part, I wish

there was no such thing as a Sunday in the whole year--there's no

knowing what to do with one's self. When fine, it draws out as many

insects as a hot sun and a shower of rain can produce in the middle of

June. The vulgar plebeians flock so, that you can scarcely get into your

barouche without being hustled by the men-milliners, linen-drapers, and

shop-boys, who ~17~~have been serving you all the previous part of

the week; and wet, or dry, there's no bearing it. For my part, I am

_ennuyée_, beyond measure, on that day, and find no little difficulty in

getting through it without a fit of the horrors.

“What a legion of counter-coxcombs!” exclaimed she, as we passed

Grosvenor-gate. “Upon the plunder of the till, or by overcharging

some particular article sold on the previous day, it is easy for these

_once-a-week_ beaux to hire a tilbury, and an awkward groom in a pepper

and salt, or drab coat, like the _incog._ of the royal family, to mix

with their betters and sport their persons in the drive of fashion: some

of the monsters, too, have the impudence of bowing to ladies whom they

do not know, merely to give them an air, or pass off their customers for

their acquaintance: its very distressing. There!” continued she, “there

goes my plumassier, with gilt spurs like a field-officer, and riding

as importantly as if he were one of the Lords of the Treasury; or--ah!

there, again, is my banker's clerk, so stiff and so laced up, that he

might pass for an Egyptian mummy--the self-importance of these puppies

is insufferable! What impudence! he has picked up some groom out of

place, with a cockade in his hat, by way of imposing on the world for a

_beau militaire_. What will the world come to! I really have not common

patience with these creatures. I have long since left off going to the

play on a Saturday night, because, independently of my preference for

the Opera, these insects from Cornhill or Whitechapel, shut up their

shops, cheat their masters, and commence their airs of importance about

nine o'clock. Then again you have the same party crowding the Park on

a Sunday; but on the following day, return, like school boys, to their

work, and you see them with their pen behind their ear, calculating how

to make up for their late extravagances, pestering you with lies, and

urging you to buy twice as much as you want, then officiously offering

their arm at your carriage-door.”

Capt. Bergamotte at this moment came up to the carriage, perfumed like a

milliner, his colour much heightened by some vegetable dye, and resolved

neither to “blush unseen,” nor “waste his sweetness on the desert air.”

Two false teeth in front, shamed the others a little in their ivory

polish, and his breath savoured of myrrh like a heathen sacrifice, or

the incense burned in ~18~~one of their temples. He thrust his horse's

head into the carriage, rather abruptly and indecorously, (as one not

accustomed to the haut-ton might suppose) but it gave no offence. He

smiled affectedly, adjusted his hat, pulled a lock of hair across his

forehead, with a view of shewing the whiteness of the latter, and next,

that the glossiness of the former must have owed its lustre to at least

two hours brushing, arranging, and perfuming; used his quizzing-glass,

and took snuff with a flourish. Lady Townley condescended to caress the

horse, and to display her lovely white arm ungloved, with which she

patted the horse's neck, and drew a hundred admiring eyes.

The exquisite all this time brushed the animal gently with a

highly-scented silk handkerchief, after which he displayed a cambric

one, and went through a thousand little playful airs and affectations,

which Bob thought would have suited a fine lady better than a lieutenant

in his Majesty's brigade of guards. Applying the lines of an inimitable

satire, (The Age of Frivolity) to the figure before him, he concluded:

“That gaudy dress and decorations gay,

The tinsel-trappings of a vain array.

The spruce trimm'd jacket, and the waving plume,

The powder'd head emitting soft perfume;

These may make fops, but never can impart

The soldier's hardy frame, or daring heart;

May in Hyde-Park present a splendid train,

But are not weapons for a dread campaign;

May please the fair, who like a tawdry beau,

But are not fit to check an active foe;

Such heroes may acquire sufficient skill

To march erect, and labour through a drill;

In some sham-fight may manfully hold out,

But must not hope an enemy to rout.”

Although he talked a great deal, the whole amount of his discourse was

to inform her Ladyship that (_Stilletto_) meaning his horse, (who in

truth appeared to possess more fire and spirit than his rider could

either boast of or command,) had cost him only 700 guineas, and was

_prime blood_; that the horse his groom rode, was _nothing but a

_good one_, and had run at the _Craven--that he had been prodigiously

fortunate that season on the turf--that he was a bold rider, and could

not bear himself without a fine high spirited animal--and, that being

engaged to dine at ~19~~three places that day, he was desperately at a

loss to know how he should act; but that if her Ladyship dined at any

one of the three, he would certainly join that party, and _cut_ the

other two.

At this moment, a mad-brained ruffian of quality, with a splendid

equipage, came driving by with four in hand, and exclaimed as he flew

past, in an affected tone,--“All! Tom, my dear fellow,--why where the

devil have you hid yourself of late?” The speed of his cattle prevented

the possibility of reply. “Although you see him in such excellent trim,”

observed Tom to Lady Jane, “though his cattle and equipage are so well

appointed, would you suppose, it, he has but just made his appearance

from the Bench after _white-washing?_ But he is a noble spirited

fellow,” remarked the exquisite, “drives the best horses, and is one of

the first whips in town; always gallant and gay, full of life and good

humour; and, I am happy to say, he has now a dozen of as fine horses

as any in Christendom, _bien entendu_, kept in my name.” After this

explanation of the characters of his friend and his horses, he kissed

his hand to her Ladyship, and was out of sight in an instant, “Adieu,

adieu, thou dear, delightful sprig of fashion!” said Lady Jane, as he

left the side of the carriage.--“Fashion and folly,” said Tom, half

whispering, and recalling to his mind the following lines:--

“Oh! Fashion, to thy wiles, thy votaries owe

Unnumber'd pangs of sharp domestic woe.

What broken tradesmen and abandon'd wives

Curse thy delusion through their wretched lives;

What pale-faced spinsters vent on thee their rage,

And youths decrepid e're they come of age.”

His moralizing reverie was however interrupted by her Ladyship,

who perceiving a group of females decked in the extreme of Parisian

fashions, “there,” said she, “there is all that taffeta, feathers,

flowers, and lace can do; and yet you see by their loud talking, their

being unattended by a servant, and by the bit of straw adhering to the

pettycoat of one of them, that they come all the way from Fish Street

Hill, or the Borough, in a hackney-coach, and are now trying to play off

the airs of women of fashion.”

Mrs. Marvellous now drew up close to the party. “My dear Lady Jane,”

said she, “1 am positively suffocated with dust, and sickened with

vulgarity; but to be sure we ~20~~have every thing in London here, from

the House of Peers to Waterloo House. I must tell you about the

trial, and Lady Barbara's mortification, and about poor Mr. R.'s being

arrested, and the midnight flight to the Continent of our poor friend

W----.”

With this brief, but at the same time comprehensive introduction, she

lacerated the reputation of almost all her acquaintance, and excited

great attention from the party, which had been joined by several during

her truly interesting intelligence. Every other topic in a moment gave

way to this delightful amusement, and each with volubility contributed

his or her share to the general stock of slander.

Scandal is at all times the _sauce piquante_ that _currys_ incident in

every situation; and where is the fashionable circle that can sit down

to table without made dishes?--Character is the good old-fashioned roast

beef of the table, which no one touches but to mangle and destroy.

“Lord! who'd have thought our cousin D

Could think of marrying Mrs. E.

True I don't like such things to tell;

But, faith, I pity Mrs. L,

And was I her, the bride to vex,

I would engage with Mrs. X.

But they do say that Charlotte U,

With Fanny M, and we know who,

Occasioned all, for you must know

They set their caps at Mr. O.

And as he courted Mrs. E,

They thought, if she'd have cousin D,

That things might be by Colonel A

Just brought about in their own way.”

Our heroes now took leave, and proceeded through the Park. “Who is that

fat, fair, and forty-looking dame, in the landau?” says Bob.--“Your

description shews,” rejoined his friend, “you are but a novice in the

world of fashion--you are deceived, that lady is as much made up as a

wax-doll. She has been such as she now appears to be for these last

five and twenty years; her figure as you see, rather en-bon point, is

friendly to the ravages of time, and every lineament of age is artfully

filled up by an expert fille de chambre, whose time has been employed

at the toilette of a celebrated devotee in Paris. She drives through the

Park as a matter of course, merely to furnish an opportunity for saying

that she has been there: but the more important business of the morning

will be transacted ~21~~at her boudoir, in the King's Road, where

every luxury is provided to influence the senses; and where, by daily

appointment, she is expected to meet a sturdy gallant. She is a perfect

Messalina in her enjoyments; but her rank in society protects her from

sustaining any injury by her sentimental wanderings.

“Do you see that tall handsome man on horseback, who has just taken

off his hat to her, he is a knight of the ... ribbon; and a well-known

flutterer among the ladies, as well as a vast composer of pretty little

nothings.”--“Indeed! and pray, cousin, do you see that lady of quality,

just driving in at the gate in a superb yellow vis-à-vis,--as you seem

to know every body, who is she?”

“Ha! ha! ha!” replied Tom, almost bursting with laughter, yet

endeavouring to conceal it, “that Lady of Quality, as you are inclined

to think her, a very few years since, was nothing more than a pot-girl

to a publican in Marj'-le-bone; but an old debauchee (upon the look

out for defenceless beauty) admiring the fineness of her form, the

brilliancy of her eye, and the symmetry of her features, became the

possessor of her person, and took her into keeping, as one of the

indispensable appendages of fashionable life, after a month's ablution

at Margate, where he gave her masters of every description. Her

understanding was ready, and at his death, which happened, luckily for

her, before satiety had extinguished appetite, she was left with

an annuity of twelve hundred pounds--improved beauty--superficial

accomplishments--and an immoderate share of caprice, insolence,

and vanity. As a proof of this, I must tell you that at an elegant

entertainment lately given by this dashing cyprian, she demolished a

desert service of glass and china that cost five hundred guineas, in a

fit of passionate ill-humour; and when her paramour intreated her to be

more composed, she became indignant--called for her writing-desk in a

rage--committed a settlement of four hundred a year, which he had made

but a short time previously, to the flames, and asked him, with, a

self-important air, whether he dared to suppose that _paltry_ parchment

gave him an authority to direct her actions?”

“And what said the lover to this severe remonstrance?”

“Say,--why he very sensibly made her a low bow, thanked her for her

kindness, in releasing him from his bond, and took his leave of her,

determined to return no more.”

22~~“Turn to the right,” says Tom, “and yonder you will see on

horseback, that staunch patriot, and friend of the people, Sir----, of

whom you must have heard so much.”

“He has just come out of the K----B----, having completed last week

the term of imprisonment, to which he was sentenced for a libel on

Government, contained in his address to his constituents on the subject

of the memorable Manchester Meeting.”

“Ah! indeed, and is that the red-hot patriot?--well, I must say I have

often regretted he should have gone to such extremes in one or two

instances, although I ever admired his general character for firmness,

manly intrepidity, and disinterested conduct.”

“You are right, Bob, perfectly right; but you know, 'to err is human, to

forgive divine,' and however he may err, he does so from principle.

In his private character, as father, husband, friend, and polished

gentleman, he has very few equals--no superior.

“He is a branch of one of the most ancient families in the kingdom, and

can trace his ancestors without interruption, from the days of William

the Conqueror. His political career has been eventful, and perhaps has

cost him more, both in pocket and person, than any Member of Parliament

now existing. He took his seat in the House of Commons at an early age,

and first rendered himself popular by his strenuous opposition to a bill

purporting to regulate the publication of newspapers.

“The next object of his determined reprehension, was the

Cold-Bath-Fields Prison, and the treatment of the unfortunates therein

confined. The uniformly bold and energetic language made use of by

the honourable Baronet upon that occasion, breathed the true spirit of

British liberty. He reprobated the unconstitutional measure of erecting

what he termed a _Bastile_ in the very heart of a free country, as

one that could neither have its foundation in national policy, nor

eventually be productive of private good. He remarked that prisons, at

which private punishments, cruel as they were illegal, were exercised,

at the mercy of an unprincipled gaoler--cells in which human beings were

exposed to the horrors of heart-sickening solitude, and depressed in

spirit by their restriction to a scanty and exclusive allowance of

bread and water, were not only incompatible with the spirit of the

constitution, but were likely to prove injurious to the spirit of the

23~~people of this happy country; for as Goldsmith admirably remarks,

“Princes and Lords may nourish or may fade,

A breath can make them as a breath hath made,

But a bold peasantry their country's pride,

When once destroyed can never be supplied.”

“_And if this be not tyranny_” continued the philanthropic orator,

“_it is impossible to define the term. I promise you here_ that I will

persevere to the last in unmasking this wanton abuse of justice and

humanity.” His invincible fortitude in favour of the people, has

rendered him a distinguished favourite among them: and though by some he

is termed a visionary, an enthusiast, and a tool of party, his adherence

to the rights of the subject, and his perseverance to uphold the

principles of the constitution, are deserving the admiration of every

Englishman; and although his fortune is princely, and has been at his

command ever since an early age, he has never had his name registered

among the fashionable gamesters at the clubs in St. James's-street,

Newmarket, or elsewhere. He labours in the vineyard of utility rather

than in the more luxuriant garden of folly; and, according to general

conception, may emphatically be called an honest man. “But come,” said

Tom, “it is time for us to move homeward--the company are drawing off I

see, we must shape our course towards Piccadilly.”

They dashed through the Park, not however without being saluted by many

of his fashionable friends, who rejoiced to see that the Honourable

Tom Dashall was again to be numbered among the votaries of Real Life in

London; while the young squire, whose visionary orbs appeared to be

in perpetual motion, dazzled with the splendid equipages of the moving

panorama, was absorbed in reflections somewhat similar to the following:

“No spot on earth to me is half so fair

As Hyde-Park Corner, or St. James's Square;

And Happiness has surely fix'd her seat

In Palace Yard, Pall Mall, or Downing Street:

Are hills, and dales, and valleys half so gay

As bright St. James's on a levee day?

What fierce ecstatic transports fire my soul,

To hear the drivers swear, the coaches roll;

The Courtier's compliment, the Ladies' clack,

The satins rustle, and the whalebone crack!”

CHAPTER IV

“Together let us beat this ample field

Try what the open, what the covert yield:

The latent tracts, the giddy heights explore

Of all who blindly creep, or sightless soar;

Eye nature's walks, shoot folly as it flies,

And catch the manners living as they rise.”

~~24~IT was half past five when the Hon. Tom Dashall, and his enraptured

cousin, reached the habitation of the former, who had taken care to

dispatch a groom, apprizing Mrs. Watson, the house-keeper, of his

intention to be at home by half past six to dinner; consequently all

was prepared for their reception. The style of elegance in which Tom

appeared to move, struck Tallyho at once with delight and astonishment,

as they entered the drawing-room; which was superbly and tastefully

fitted up, and commanded a cheerful view of Piccadilly. “Welcome, my

dear Bob!” said Tom to his cousin, “to all the delights of Town--come,

tell me what you think of its first appearance, only remember you

commence your studies of Life in London on a dull day; to-morrow you

will have more enlivening prospects before you.” “'Why in truth,”

replied Bob, “the rapidity of attraction is such, as at present to leave

no distinct impressions on my mind; all appears like enchantment, and

I am completely bewildered in a labyrinth of wonders, to which there

appears to be no end; but under your kind guidance and tuition I may

prove myself an apt scholar, in unravelling its intricacies.” By this

time they had approached the window.

“Aye, aye,” says Dashall, “we shall not be long, I see, without some

object to exercise your mind upon, and dispel the horrors.

“Oh for that Muse of fire, whose burning pen

Records the God-like deeds of valiant men!

Then might our humble, yet aspiring verse,

Our matchless hero's matchless deeds rehearse.”

~25~~Bob was surprised at this sudden exclamation of his cousin, and

from the introduction naturally expected something extraordinary, though

he looked around him without discovering his object.

“That,” continued Tom, “is a Peer”--pointing to a gig just turning the

corner, “of whom it may be said:

To many a jovial club that _Peer_ was known,

With whom his active wit unrivall'd shone,

Choice spirit, grave freemason, buck and blood,

Would crowd his stories and _bon mots_ to hear,

And none a disappointment e'er need fear

His humour flow'd in such a copious flood.”

“It is Lord C----, who was formerly well known as the celebrated Major

H----, the companion of the now most distinguished personage in the

British dominions! and who not long since became possessed of his

lordly honours. Some particulars of him are worth knowing. He was

early introduced into life, and often kept both good and bad company,

associating with men and women of every description and of every rank,

from the highest to the lowest--from St. James's to St. Giles's, in

palaces and night-cellars--from the drawing-room to the dust-cart. He

can drink, swear, tell stories, cudgel, box, and smoke with any one;

having by his intercourse with society fitted himself for all companies.

His education has been more practical than theoretical, though he was

brought up at Eton, where, notwithstanding he made considerable progress

in his studies, he took such an aversion to Greek that he never would

learn it. Previous to his arrival at his present title, he used to be

called Honest George, and so unalterable is his nature, that to this

hour he likes it, and it fits him better than his title. But he has

often been sadly put to his shifts under various circumstances: he was

a courtier, but was too honest for that; he tried gaming, but he was too

honest for that; he got into prison, and might have wiped off, but he

was too honest for that; he got into the coal trade, but he found it a

black business, and he was too honest for that. At drawing the long

bow, so much perhaps cannot be said--but that you know is habit, not

principle; his courage is undoubted, having fought three duels before he

was twenty years of age.

Being disappointed in his hope of promotion in the army, he resolved, in

spite of the remonstrances of his ~26~~friends, to quit the guards,

and solicited an appointment in one of the Hessian corps, at that

time raising for the British service in America, where the war of the

revolution was then commencing, and obtained from the Landgrave of Hesse

a captain's commission in his corps of Jagers.

Previous to his departure for America, finding he had involved himself

in difficulties by a profuse expenditure, too extensive for his income,

and an indulgence in the pleasures of the turf to a very great extent,

he felt himself under the necessity of mortgaging an estate of about

11,000L. per annum, left him by his aunt, and which proved unequal to

the liquidation of his debts. He remained in America till the end of the

war, where he distinguished himself for bravery, and suffered much with

the yellow fever. On his return, he obtained an introduction to the

Prince of Wales, who by that time had lanched into public life, and

became one of the jovial characters whom he selected for his associates;

and many are the amusing anecdotes related of him. The Prince conferred

on him the appointment of equerry, with a salary of 300L. a year; this,

however, he lost on the retrenchments that were afterwards made in the

household of His Royal Highness. He continued, however, to be one of

his constant companions, and while in his favour they were accustomed

to practice strange vagaries. The Major was always a wag, ripe and ready

for a _spree or a lark_.

“To him a frolic was a high delight,

A frolic he would hunt for, day and night,

Careless how prudence on the sport might frown.”

At one time, when the favourite's finances were rather low, and the

_mopusses ran taper_, it was remarked among the 60 vivants of the

party, that the Major had not for some time given them an invitation.

This, however, he promised to do, and fixed the day--the Prince

having engaged to make one. Upon this occasion he took lodgings in

Tottenham-court Road--went to a wine-merchant--promised to introduce

him to the royal presence, upon his engaging to find wine for the party,

which was readily acceded to; and a dinner of three courses was served

up. Three such courses, perhaps, were never before seen; when the

company were seated, two large dishes appeared; one was placed at the

top of the table, and one at the bottom; all was anxious expectation:

~27~~the covers being removed, exhibited to view, a baked shoulder of

mutton at top, and baked potatoes at the bottom. They all looked around

with astonishment, but, knowing the general eccentricity of their host,

they readily fell into his humour, and partook of his fare; not doubting

but the second course would make ample amends for the first. The wine

was good, and the Major apologized for his accommodations, being, as he

said, a family sort of man, and the dinner, though somewhat uncommon,

was not such an one as is described by Goldsmith:

“At the top, a fried liver and bacon were seen;

At the bottom was tripe, in a swinging tureen;

At the sides there were spinach and pudding made hot;

In the middle a place where the pasty--was not.”

At length the second course appeared; when lo and behold, another baked

shoulder of mutton and baked potatoes! Surprise followed surprise--but

“Another and another still succeeds.”

The third course consisted of the same fare, clearly proving that he

had in his catering studied quantity more than variety; however, they

enjoyed the joke, eat as much as they pleased, laughed heartily at the

dinner, and after bumpering till a late hour, took their departure: it

is said, however, that he introduced the wine-merchant to his Highness,

who afterwards profited by his orders.{1}

1 This remarkable dinner reminds us of a laughable

caricature which made its appearance some time ago upon the

marriage of a Jew attorney, in Jewry-street, Aldgate, to the

daughter of a well-known fishmonger, of St. Peter's-alley,

Cornhill, when a certain Baronet, Alderman, Colonel, and

then Lord Mayor, opened the ball at the London Tavern, as

the partner of the bride; a circum-stance which excited

considerable curiosity and surprise at the time. We know the

worthy Baronet had been a hunter for a seat in Parliament,

but what he could be hunting among the children of Israel

is, perhaps, not so easily ascertained. We, however, are not

speaking of the character, but the caricature, which

represented the bride, not resting on Abraham's bosom, but

seated on his knee, surrounded by their guests at the

marriage-feast; while to a panel just behind them, appears

to be affixed a bill of fare, which runs thus:

First course, Fish!

Second course, Fish!!

Third course, Fish!!!

Perhaps the idea of the artist originated in the anecdote

above recorded.

~28~~It is reported that the Prince gave him a commission, under an

express promise that when he could not shew it, he was no longer to

enjoy his royal favour. This commission was afterwards lost by the

improvident possessor, and going to call on the donor one morning, who

espying him on his way, he threw up the sash and called out, “Well,

George, commission or no commission?” “No commission, by G----, your

Highness?” was the reply.

“Then you cannot enter here,”” rejoined the prince, closing the window

and the connection at the same time.

“His Lordship now resides in the Regent's Park, and may almost nightly

be seen at a public-house in the neighbourhood, where he takes his grog

and smokes his pipe, amusing the company around him with anecdotes of

his former days; we may, perhaps, fall in with him some night in

our travels, and you will find him a very amusing and sometimes very

sensible sort of fellow, till he gets his grog on board, when he can be

as boisterous and blustering as a coal-heaver or a bully. His present

fortune is impaired by his former imprudence, but he still mingles with

the sporting world, and a short time back had his pocket picked, at a

_milling_ match, of a valuable gold repeater. He has favoured the world

with several literary productions, among which are Memoirs of his own

Life, embellished with a view of the author, suspended from (to use the

phrase of a late celebrated auctioneer) a _hanging wood_; and a very

elaborate treatise on the Art of Rat-catching. In the advertisement of

the latter work, the author engages it will enable the reader to “clear

any house of these noxious vermin, however much infested, excepting

only a certain great House in the neighbourhood of St. Stephen's,

Westminster.”{1}

1 It appears by the newspapers, that the foundation of a

certain great house in Pall Mall is rotten, and giving-way.

The cause is not stated; but as it cannot arise from being

top-heavy, we may presume that the rats have been at work

there. Query, would not an early application of the Major's

recipe have remedied the evil, and prevented the necessity

of a removal of a very heavy body, which of course, must be

attended with a very heavy expense? 'Tis a pity an old

friend should have been overlooked on such an occasion.

~29~~“Do you,” said Tom, pointing to a person on the other side of

the way, “see that young man, walking with a half-smothered air of

indifference, affecting to whistle as he walks, and twirling his

stick? He is a _once-a-week man_, or, in other words, a _Sunday

promenader_--Harry Hairbrain was born of a good family, and, at the

decease of his father, became possessed of ten thousand pounds, which

he sported with more zeal than discretion, so much so, that having been

introduced to the gaming table by a pretended friend, and fluctuated

between poverty and affluence for four years, he found himself

considerably in debt, and was compelled to seek refuge in an obscure

lodging, somewhere in the neighbourhood of Kilburn, in order to avoid

the _traps_; for, as he observes, he has been among the _Greeks and

pigeons_, who have completely _rook'd_ him, and now want to crow

over him: he has been at hide and seek for the last two months, and,

depending on the death of a rich old maiden aunt who has no other heir,

he eventually hopes to '_diddle 'em_.'”

This narrative of Hairbrain was like Hebrew ta Tallyho, who requested

his interesting cousin, as he found himself at _falt, to try back_, and

put him on the _right scent_.

“Ha! ha! ha!” said Tom, “we must find a new London vocabulary, I see,

before we shall be able to converse intelligibly; but as you are now

solely under my tuition, I will endeavour to throw a little light upon

the subject.

“Your _once-a-week man, or Sunday promenader_, is one who confines

himself, to avoid confinement, lodging in remote quarters in the

vicinity of the Metropolis, within a mile or two of the Bridges,

Oxford Street, or Hyde-Park Corner, and is constrained to waste six

uncomfortable and useless days in the week, in order to secure the

enjoyment of the seventh, when he fearlessly ventures forth, to recruit

his ideas--to give a little variety to the sombre picture of life,

unmolested, to transact his business, or to call on some old friend,

and keep up those relations with the world which would otherwise be

completely neglected or broken.

“Among characters of this description, may frequently be recognised the

remnant of fashion, and, perhaps, the impression of nobility not wholly

destroyed by adversity and seclusion--the air and manners of a man

who has ~30~~outlived his century, with an assumption of _sans souci_

pourtrayed in his agreeable smile, murmur'd through a low whistle of

'Begone dull care,' or 'No more by sorrow chased, my heart,' or played

off by the flourishing of a whip, or the rapping of a boot that has

a spur attached to it, which perhaps has not crossed a horse for

many months; and occasionally by a judicious glance at another man's

carriage, horses, or appointments, which indicates taste, and the former

possession of such valuable things. These form a part of the votaries

of Real Life in London. This however,” said he (observing his cousin in

mute attention) “is but a gloomy part of the scene; vet, perhaps, not

altogether uninteresting or unprofitable.”

“I can assure you,” replied Tallyho, “I am delighted with the accurate

knowledge you appear to have of society in general, while I regret the

situation of the actors in scenes so glowingly described, and am only

astonished at the appearance of such persons.”

“You must not be astonished at appearances,” rejoined Dashall, “for

appearance is every thing in London; and I must particularly warn you

not to found your judgment upon it. There is an old adage, which says

'To _be_ poor, and _seem_ poor, is the Devil all over.' Why, if you meet

one of these _Sunday-men_, he will accost you with urbanity and affected

cheerfulness, endeavouring to inspire you with an idea that he is one of

the happiest of mortals; while, perhaps, the worm of sorrow is secretly

gnawing his heart, and preying upon his constitution. Honourable

sentiment, struggling with untoward circumstances, is destroying

his vitals; not having the courage to pollute his character by a

jail-delivery, or to condescend to _white-washing_, or some low bankrupt

trick, to extricate himself from difficulty, in order to stand upright

again.

“A _once-a-week man, or Sunday promenader_, frequently takes his way

through bye streets and short cuts, through courts and alleys, as it

were between retirement and a desire to see what is going on in the

scenes of his former splendour, to take a sly peep at that world from

which he seems to be excluded.”

“And for all such men,” replied Bob, “expelled from high and from good

society, (even though I were compelled to allow by their own imprudence

and folly) I ~31~~should always like to have a spare hundred, to send

them in an anonymous cover.”

“You are right,” rejoined Tom, catching him ardently by the hand,

“the sentiment does honour to your head and heart; for to such men, in

general, is attached a heart-broken wife, withering by their side in the

shade, as the leaves and the blossom cling together at all seasons, in

sickness or in health, in affluence or in poverty, until the storm beats

too roughly on them, and prematurely destroys the weakest. But I must

warn you not to let your liberality get the better of your discretion,

for there are active and artful spirits abroad, and even these

necessities and miseries are made a handle for deception, to entrap the

unwary; and you yet have much to learn--Puff lived two years on sickness

and misfortune, by advertisements in the newspapers.”

“How?” enquired Bob.

“You shall have it in his own words,” said Dashall.

“I suppose never man went through such a series of

“calamities in the same space of time! Sir, I was five

“times made a bankrupt and reduced from a state of

“affluence, by a train of unavoidable misfortunes! then

“Sir, though a very industrious tradesman, I was twice

“burnt out, and lost my little all both times! I lived

“upon those fires a month. I soon after was confined by a

“most excruciating disorder, and lost the use of my limbs!

“That told very well; for I had the case strongly attested,

“and went about col--called on you, a close prisoner

“in the Marshalsea, for a debt benevolently contracted

“to serve a friend. I was afterwards twice tapped

“for a dropsy, which declined into a very profitable

“consumption! I was then reduced to--0--no--then,

“I became a widow with six helpless children--after

“having had eleven husbands pressed, and being left

“every time eight months gone with child, and without

“money to get me into an hospital!”

“Astonishing!” cried Bob, “and are such things possible?”

“A month's residence in the metropolis,” said Dashall, “will satisfy

your enquiries. One ingenious villain, a short time back, had artifice

enough to defraud the public, at different periods of his life, of

upwards of one hundred thousand pounds, and actually carried on

his fraudulent schemes to the last moment of his existence, for he

~32~~defrauded Jack Ketch of his fee by hanging himself in his cell

after condemnation.”{1}

Just as a tilbury was passing, “Observe,” said Tom, “the driver of that

tilbury is the celebrated Lord Cripplegate with his usual equipage--his

blue cloak with a scarlet lining, hanging loosely over the vehicle,

gives an air of importance to his appearance, and he is always attended

by that boy, who has been denominated his cupid; he is a nobleman

by birth, a gentleman by courtesy, and a gamester by profession. He

exhausted a large estate upon _odd and even, sevens the main_, &c. till

having lost sight of the _main chance_, he found it necessary to curtail

his establishment and enliven his prospects, by exchanging a first floor

for a second, without an opportunity of ascertaining whether or not

these alterations were best suited to his high notions or exalted taste;

from which in a short time he was induced, either by inclination or

necessity, to take a small lodging in an obscure street, and to sport

a gig and one horse, instead of a curricle and pair; though in former

times he used to drive four in hand, and was acknowledged to be an

excellent whip. He still, however, possessed money enough to collect

together a large quantity of halfpence, which in his hours of relaxation

he managed to turn to good account, by the following stratagem:--He

distributed his halfpence on the floor of his little parlour in straight

lines, and ascertained how many it would require to cover it; having

thus prepared himself, he invited some wealthy spendthrifts (with whom

he still had the power of associating) to sup with him, and he welcomed

them to his habitation with much cordiality. The glass circulated

freely, and each recounted his gaming or amorous adventures till a late

hour, when the effects of the bottle becoming visible, he proposed, as a

momentary suggestion, to name how many halfpence laid side by side would

carpet the floor; and offered to lay a large

1 Charles Price, the well-known impostor, whose extensive

forgeries on the Bank of England rendered him notorious, may

serve as a practical illustration of Puff, for he, at

several periods of his life, carried on his system of fraud

by advertisements, and by personating the character of a

clergyman collecting subscriptions under various pretences.

His whole life is marked with determined and systematic

depravity. He hanged himself in Tothil-fields Bridewell,

where he was confined, at the age of fifty-five.

~33~~wager, that he would guess the nearest. Done! done! was echoed

round the room. Every one made a deposit of 100L. and every one made a

guess equally certain of success; and his lordship declaring he had

a large lot of halfpence by him, though, perhaps, not enough, the

experiment was to be tried immediately--'twas an excellent hit! The room

was cleared, to it they went, the halfpence were arranged rank and file

in military order, when it appeared that his lordship had certainly

guessed (as well he might) nearest to the number: the consequence was,

an immediate alteration of his lordship's residence and appearance: he

got one step in the world by it, he gave up his second-hand gig for

one warranted new; and a change in his vehicle may pretty generally be

considered as the barometer of his pocket.

“Do you mark, he is learing at that pretty girl on the other side of the

way? he is fond of the wenches, and has been a true votary of fashion.

Perhaps there is not a more perfect model of Real Life in London than

might be furnished from the memoirs of his lordship! He is rather a good

looking man, as he sits, and prides himself on being a striking likeness

of his present majesty; but, unfortunately, has a lameness which

impedes him in the ardour of his pursuit of game, although it must be

acknowledged he has been a game one in his time. The boy you see with

him is reported to be his own son, who is now employed by him as an

assistant in all his amorous adventures.”

“His own son!” exclaimed Bob.

“Aye, and (if so) a merrily begotten one, I'll be bound for it,”

continued Tom; “such things will happen, and his lordship has kept a

very pretty assortment of servant girls. But the introduction of this

youth to public notice was somewhat curious. It is said, that having a

large party of _bon vivants_ to dine with him, on sitting down to table,

and taking the cover off one of the dishes, a plump and smiling infant

appeared. A sweet little _Cupid_ by

----! (exclaimed his lordship) I'll be his father!--I'll

take care of him!--call Rose, and tell her to look out for a nurse for

him. Thus taking upon himself the character of parent and protector as

well as parson. Young _Cupid_ was christened in libations of claret, and

furnished a fund of amusement for the evening. How young Cupid ~34~~came

there, I believe has not yet been satisfactorily ascertained:

Who seeks a friend, should come disposed

T' exhibit, in full bloom disclosed,

The graces and the beauties

That form the character he seeks;

For 'tis an union that bespeaks

Reciprocated duties.

And thus it has proved with _Cupid_, himself the offspring of an illicit

amour, is now constantly engaged in promoting others.

“His lordship had three brothers, _Billingsgate! Hellgate!_ and

_Newgate!_ whose names are adorned with a similarity of perfections in

the Temple of Fame; but they are consigned to the tomb of the Capulets,

and we will not rake up the ashes of the dead.”{1}

At this moment a loud knocking was heard at the door, and Mr. Sparkle

was ushered into the drawing-room, which he entered, as it were, with a

hop, step, and jump, and had Tom Dashall by the hand almost before they

could turn round to see who it was.

“My dear fellow!” exclaimed Sparkle, almost out of breath, “where have

you been to? Time has been standing still since your departure!--there

has been a complete void in nature--how do you do?--I beg pardon,

(turning to Bob) you will excuse my rapture at meeting my old friend,

whom I have lost so long, that I have almost lost myself--egad, I have

run myself out of breath--cursed unlucky I was not in the Park this

morning to see you first, but I have just heard all about you from Lady

Jane, and lost no time in paying my respects--what are you going to do

with yourself?”

1 There was a delicate propriety in this conduct of the Hon.

Tom Dashall which cannot but be admired; for although they

were alone, and speaking to each other in perfect

confidence, it was always his desire to avoid as much as

possible making bad worse; he had a heart to feel, as well

as a head to think; and would rather lend a hand to raise a

fellow-creature from the mud than walk deliberately over

him; besides, he foresaw other opportunities would arise in

which, from circumstances, he would almost be compelled to

draw his Cousin's attention again to the persons in

question, and he was always unwilling to ex-haust a subject

of an interesting nature without sonic leading occurrence to

warrant it.

~35~~At this moment dinner was announced. “Come,” said Tom, “let us

refresh a bit, and after dinner I will tell you all about it. We are

travellers, you know, and feel a little fatigued. _Allons, allons_.” And

so saying, he led the way to the dinner-room.

“Nothing could be more _apropos_,” said Sparkle, “for although I have

two engagements beforehand, and have promised a visit to you know who in

the evening, they appear like icicles that must melt before the sun of

your re-appearance: so I am your's.” And to it they went. Tom always

kept a liberal table, and gave his friends a hearty welcome. But here

it will be necessary, while they are regaling themselves, to make

our readers a little acquainted with Charles Sparkle, Esq.; for which

purpose we must request his patience till the next chapter.

CHAPTER V

“Place me, thou great Supreme, in that blest state,

Unknown to those the silly world call Great,

Where all my wants may be with ease supply'd,

Yet nought superfluous to pamper pride.”

~36~~IT will be seen in the previous chapter, that the formal ceremony

of a fashionable introduction, such as--“Mr. Sparkle, my friend Mr.

Robert Tallyho, of Belville Hall; Mr. Tallyho, Mr. Charles Sparkle,” was

altogether omitted; indeed, the abrupt entrance of the latter rendered

it utterly impossible, for although Sparkle was really a well-bred man,

he had heard from Lady Jane of Tom's arrival with his young friend from

the country. _Etiquette_ between themselves, was at all times completely

unnecessary, an air of gaiety and freedom, as the friend of Dashall, was

introduction enough to Bob, and consequently this point of good breeding

was wholly unnoticed by all the party; but we are not yet sufficiently

acquainted with our readers to expect a similar mode of proceeding will

be overlooked; we shall therefore lose no time in giving our promised

account of Mr. Sparkle, and beg to introduce him accordingly.

Mr. Reader, Mr. Sparkle; Mr. Sparkle, Mr. Reader.

Hold, Sir, what are you about? You have bewildered yourself with

etiquette, and seem to know as little about _Life in London_ as the

novice you have already introduced--By the way, that introduction was

one of the most extraordinary I ever met with; this may be equally so

for ought I know; and I really begin to suspect you are an extraordinary

fellow yourself. How can you introduce me, of whom you know nothing?

Egad, I believe you have me there--“a palpable hit, my Lord,” (or my

Lady, for I certainly cannot say which;) I was getting myself into an

awkward dilemma, but I hate suspicion--

“Suspicion ever haunts the guilty mind.”

~37~~Methinks I see a frown, but I meant no offence, and if you throw

down my book in a rage, you will perhaps not only remain ignorant of

Mr. Sparkle, but, what is more important, of those other

numerous fashionable characters in high and low life--of those

manners--incidents--amusements--follies--vices, &c. which, combined

together, form the true picture of Real Life in the Metropolis.

“He who hath trod th' intricate maze,

Exploring every devious way,

Can best direct th' enquiring gaze,

And all the varied scenes display.”

Mr. Author, you are a strange rambler.

Admitted, Sir, or Ma'am, I am a rambler, who, with your permission,

would willingly not be impeded in my progress, and under such

expectations I shall proceed.

Charles Sparkle was the son and only child of a Right Hon. Member of

Parliament, now no more, whose mother dying soon after his birth, was

left destitute of that maternal kindness and solicitude which frequently

has so much influence in forming the character of the future man.

His father, a man of eccentric turn of mind, being appointed soon

afterwards to a diplomatic situation abroad, left the care of his son's

education to an elderly friend of his, who held a situation of some

importance under the then existing government, with an injunction to

conceal from the boy the knowledge of his real parent, and to bring him

up as his own child.

This important trust was executed with tenderness and fidelity; the boy

grew in strength, and ripened in intelligence, and being accustomed

to consider his protector as his parent, the father, upon returning

to England, determined not to undeceive him, until he should arrive at

years of discretion; and with this view Mr. Orford was instructed at a

proper age to send him to Oxford.

Charles, however had contracted before this period, habits and

acquaintances in London, that were completely in opposition to the

dictates and inclinations of his supposed father. He became passionately

fond of literary amusements, music, and drawing, which served to occupy

his morning hours: but his evenings were devoted to the company of

vitiated associates, who did ~38~~not fail to exercise their influence

over his youthful passions, and he frequently engaged himself in unlucky

and improvident adventures, which involved him in pecuniary difficulties

far beyond his stipulated income. These circumstances were no sooner

made known to the supposed parent, than they excited his displeasure,

and being carried to an unpardonable extent, he was, at the age of

eighteen, literally banished the house of his protector, and compelled

to take an obscure lodging in the vicinity of London; the rent of which

was paid for him, and a scanty allowance of one guinea sent to him

regularly every Saturday night. Thus secluded from his old associates,

it will not be wondered at that he contrived to form new ones, and

having purchased an old harpsicord, turned the musical instruction

he had received to occasional account; he also wrote some political

pamphlets which were well received. But this solitary and dependent life

was wholly unsuited to the gaiety in which he had hitherto moved. It

had, however, the effect of drawing forth talent, which perhaps would

never, but for this circumstance, have been discovered; for

“Many a gem, of purest ray serene,

The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear;

Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,

And waste its sweetness on the desert air.”

His writings, &c. under the name of Oribrd, were recognised by the real

father, as the productions of a promising son: at his instigation, and

upon a promise of reform, he was again restored to his former home, and

shortly after entered as a gentleman commoner of St. Mary's, Oxford; but

not till he had, by some means or other, made the discovery that

Orford was not his real name. Congenial spirits are naturally fond of

associating, and it was here that he first became acquainted with the

Hon. Tom Dashall: they were constant companions and mutual assistants to

each other, in all their exercises as well as all their vagaries; so

as to cement a friendship and interest in each other's fate, up to the

moment of which we are now speaking.

Orford, however, was at that time more impetuous and less discreet

in the pursuit of his pleasures than his honourable friend, and after

obtaining the distinction of Bachelor of Arts, was in consequence of

his imprudence and ~39~~irregularities, after frequently hair-breadth

escapes, expelled the college. This circumstance, however, appeared of

little consequence to him. He hired a gig at Oxford, promising to return

in a few days, and came up to London, but had not effrontery enough to

venture into the presence of his reputed father. On arrival in town, he

put up at an inn in the Borough, where he resided till all the money

he had was exhausted, and till, as he emphatically observes, he had

actually eaten his horse and chaise.

In the mean time, the people at Oxford found he was expelled; and as

he had not returned according to appointment, he was pursued, and

eventually found: they had no doubt of obtaining their demand from

his friends, and he was arrested at the suit of the lender; which was

immediately followed by a retainer from the inn-keeper where he had

resided in town. Application was made to Mr. Orford for his liberation,

without effect; in consequence of which he became a resident in the

rules of the King's Bench, as his friends conceived by this means his

habits would be corrected and his future conduct be amended, his real

father still keeping in the back ground.

While in this confinement, he again resorted to the produce of his pen

and his talent for musical composition, and his friend Tom, at the first

vacation, did not fail to visit him. During this time, in the shape

of donation, from Mr. Orford he received occasional supplies more than

equal to his necessities, though not to his wishes. While here, he

fished out some further clue to the real parent, who visited him in

disguise during his confinement as a friend of Mr. Orford: still,

however, he had no chance of liberation, till, being one day called on

by Mr. Orford, he was informed he was at perfect liberty to leave his

present abode, and was directed to go with him immediately; a coach was

called, and he heard the direction given to drive to Bedford Square,

where they arrived just time enough to learn that the Right Hon. S. S.

had breathed his last, after a lingering illness.

Upon alighting from the coach, and receiving this information, they were

ushered into the drawing-room, and presently joined by a clergyman who

had been the chaplain of the deceased, who acquainted our adventurer of

the death of his parent--that by will he was entitled ~40~~to 10,000L.

per annum, and a handsome estate in Wiltshire. This sudden reverse

of fortune to Sparkle--the change from confinement to liberty, from

indigence to affluence--awakened sensations more easily to be conceived

than described. He wept, (perhaps the first tears of sincerity in his

life; ) his heart was subdued by an overwhelming flood of affection for

that unknown being, whom he now found had been his constant guardian

angel, alternately taking Orford and the reverend Divine by the hand,

and hiding his head in the bosom of his reputed father. At length they

led him to the room in which were the remains of his lamented parent.

There are perhaps few circumstances better calculated to impress awe

on the youthful mind than the contemplation of those features in death

which have been respected and revered while living. Such respect had

ever been entertained by Charles Sparkle for the supposed friend of

Mr. Orford, from whom he had several times received the most kind and

affectionate advice; and his sensations upon discovering that friend

to be no other than his own father, may be more easily conceived than

described--he was at once exalted and humbled, delighted and afflicted.

He threw himself in an agony of feeling by the bed-side, fell on his

knees, in which he was joined by the clergyman and Orford, where he

remained some time.

After the first paroxysms of grief had subsided, young Sparkle, who had

already felt the strongest impression that could possibly be made on

a naturally good heart, gave orders for the funeral of his deceased

father, and then proceeded to make other arrangements suitable to

the character he was hereafter to sustain through life, went down

to Wiltshire, and took possession of his estate, where for a time he

secluded himself, and devoted his attention to the perusal of the

best authors in the English, French, and Italian language, under the

superintendence of the reverend Divine, who had been a resident for many

years with his father.

But a life in the country could not long have superior charms for a

young man who had already seen much to admire, as well as much to avoid,

in the metropolis. The combination however of theoretical information

he had derived from books, as well as the practical observations he had

made during his residence in London, fitted him at once for the

gayest and most distinguished circles of ~41~~metropolitan society.

He therefore arranged with Mr. Orford, who had formerly acted as his

parent, to continue with him in the capacity of steward, and for the

last two years of his life had been almost a constant resident at

“Long's Hotel”, in Bond Street, not choosing to have the charge of an

establishment in town; and the early friendship and attachment which

had been cultivated at Oxford being again renewed, appeared to grow with

their growth, and strengthen with their strength.

Sparkle had still a large portion of that vivacity for which he was so

remarkable in his younger days. His motives and intentions were at all

times good, and if he indulged himself in the pursuits of frolic and

fun, it was never at the expence of creating an unpleasant feeling to an

honest or honourable mind. His fortune was ample. He had a hand to give,

and a heart to forgive; no “malice or hatred were there to be found:”

but of these qualifications, and the exercise of them, sufficient traits

will be given in the ensuing pages. No man was better _up_ to the rigs

of the town; no one better _down_ to the manoeuvres of the _flats_, and

_sharps_. He had mingled with life in all companies; he was at once an

elegant and interesting companion; his views were extensive upon all

subjects; his conversation lively, and his manners polished.

Such, gentle reader, is the brief sketch of Charles Sparkle, the

esteemed friend of the Hon. Tom Dashall, and with such recommendations

it will not be wondered at if he should become also the friend of

Tally-ho; for, although living in the height of fashionable splendour,

his mind was at all times in consonance with the lines which precede

this chapter; yet none could be more ready to lend a hand in any

pleasant party in pursuit of a bit of _gig. A mill at Moulsey Hurst--a

badger-bait, or bear-bait--a main at the Cock-pit--a smock-race_--or

a scamper to the Tipping hunt, ultimately claimed his attention; while

upon all occasions he was an acute observer of life and character.

“His years but young, but his experience old,

His heart unmellow'd, though his judgment ripe,

And in a word, (for far behind his worth

Come all the praises that we now bestow)

He is complete in conduct and in mind,

With all good grace, to grace a gentleman.”

~42~~But dinner is over, and we must now accompany our triumvirate to

the drawing-room, where we find them seated with bottles, glasses, &c.

determined to make a quiet evening after the fatigues of the journey,

and with a view to prepare themselves for the more arduous, and to

Tally-ho more interesting, pursuits in the new world, for such he almost

considered London.

“Yes,” said Sparkle, addressing himself to Bob, with whom a little

previous conversation had almost rendered him familiar, “London is a

world within itself; it is, indeed, the only place to see life--it is

the “_multum in parvo_,” as the old song says,

“Would you see the world in little,

Ye curious here repair;”

it is the acmé of perfection, the “_summum bonum_” of style---indeed,

there is a certain affectation of style from the highest to the lowest

individual.”

“You are a merry and stylish fellow,” said Tom; we should have been

hipp'd without you, there is a fund of amusement in you at all times.”

“You are a bit of a wag,” replied Sparkle, “but I am up to your gossip,

and can serve you out in your own style.”

“Every body,” says Tallyho, “appears to live in style.”

“Yes,” continued Sparkle, “_living in style_ is one of the most

essential requisites for a residence in London; but I'll give you my

idea of living in style, which, by many, is literally nothing more

than keeping up appearances at other people's expence: for instance, a

Duchess conceives it to consist in taking her breakfast at three o'clock

in the afternoon--dining at eight--playing at Faro till four the next

morning--supping at five, and going to bed at six--and to eat green peas

and peaches in January--in making a half-curtsey at the creed, and a

whole one to a scoundrel--in giving fifty guineas to an exotic capon for

a pit-ticket--and treating the deserved claims of a parental actor with

contempt--to lisp for the mere purpose of appearing singular, and to

seem completely ignorant of the Mosaic law--to be in the reverse of

extremes--to laugh when she could weep, and weep when she could .dance

and be merry--to leave her compliment cards with her acquaintance, whom

at the same moment she wishes she may never see again--to speak of the

community ~43~~with marked disrespect, and to consider the sacrament a

bore!”

“Admirable!” said Tom.

“Wonderful, indeed!” exclaimed Tallyho.

“Aye, aye, London is full of wonders--there is a general and insatiate

appetite for the marvellous; but let us proceed: Now we'll take the

reverse of the picture. The Duke thinks he does things in style, by

paying his debts of honour contracted at the gaming-table, and but very

few honourable debts--by being harsh and severe to a private supplicant,

while he is publicly a liberal subscriber to a person he never saw--by

leaving his vis-a-vis at the door of a well-known courtesan, in order

to have the credit of an intrigue--in making use of an optical glass for

personal inspection, though he can ascertain the horizon without any--by

being or seeming to be, every thing that is in opposition to nature and

virtue--in counting the lines in the Red Book, and carefully watching

the importation of _figurantes_ from the Continent--in roundly declaring

that a man of fashion is a being of a superior order, and ought to be

amenable only to himself--in jumbling ethics and physics together, so as

to make them destroy each other--in walking arm in arm with a sneering

jockey--talking loudly any thing but sense--and in burning long letters

without once looking at their contents;... and so much for my Lord

Duke.”

“Go along Bob!” exclaimed Tom.

Tallyho conceiving himself addressed by this, looked up with an air

of surprise and enquiry, which excited the risibility of Dashall and

Sparkle, till it was explained to him as a common phrase in London, with

which he would soon become more familiar. Sparkle continued.

“The gay young Peerling, who is scarcely entitled to the honours and

immunities of manhood, is satisfied he is _doing things in style_, by

raising large sums of money on _post-obit_ bonds, at the very moderate

premium of 40 per cent.--in _queering_ the clergyman at his father's

table, and leaving the marks of his finger and thumb on the article

of matrimony in his aunt's prayer-book--in kicking up a row at the

theatre, when he knows he has some roaring bullies at his elbow, though

humble and dastardly when alone--in keeping a dashing _impure_,

who publicly squanders away his money, and privately laughs at

his follies--in buying a phaeton as high as a two pair of stairs

~44~~window, and a dozen of spanking bays at Tattersall's, and in

dashing through St. James's Street, Pall Mall, Piccadilly, and Hyde

Park, thus accompanied and accoutred, amidst the contumelies of the

coxcombs and the sighs of the worthy. And these are pictures of high

life, of which the originals are to be seen daily.

“The haberdasher of Cheapside, whose father, by adherence to the

most rigid economy, had amassed a competence, and who transmitted his

property, without his prudence, to his darling son, is determined to

shew his spirit, by buying a _bit of blood_, keeping his gig, his girl,

and a thatched cottage on the skirts of Epping Forest, or Sydenham

Common; but as keeping a girl and a gig would be a nothing unless

all the world were _up to it_, he regularly drives her to all the

boxing-matches, the Epping hunt, and all the races at Barnet, Epsom,

Egham, and Ascot Heath, where he places himself in one of the most

conspicuous situations; and as he knows his racing, &c. must eventually

distinguish his name in the Gazette with a whereas! he rejoices in the

progress and acceleration of his own ruin, and, placing his arms akimbo,

he laughs, sings, swears, swaggers, and vociferates--'What d'ye think o'

that now,--is'nt this doing it in stile, eh?'

“Prime of life to go it, where's a place like London? Four in hand

to-day, the next you may be undone.”

[Illustration: page44 Epson Racers]

“Well, Sir, the mercer's wife, from Watling Street, thinks living

in style is evinced by going once a year to a masquerade at the new

Museodeum, or Argyle Rooms; having her daughters taught French, dancing,

and music--dancing a minuet at Prewterers' Hall, or Mr. Wilson's{1}

annual benefit--in getting a good situation in the green boxes--going

to Hampstead or Copenhagen House in a glass coach on a Sunday--having

card-parties at home

1 Mr. Wilson's flaming bills of “Dancing at the Old Bailey,”

which are so profusely stuck up about the city, are said to

have occasioned several awkward jokes and blunders; among

others related, is that of a great unintellectual Yorkshire

booby, who, after staring at the bills with his mouth open,

and his saucer eyes nearly starting out of his head with

astonishment, exclaimed, “Dang the buttons on't, I zee'd urn

dangling all of a row last Wednesday at t' Ould Bailey, but

didn't know as how they call'd that danzing,--by gum there

be no understanding these here Lunnun folk!”

~45~~during Lent, declaring she never drinks any thing else but the

_most bestest_ gunpowder tea, that she has a most _screwciating_ cold,

and that the country air is always _salubrus_, and sure to do her good.

“So much for living in style, and good breeding.”

“That's your true breeding--that's your sort my boys--

Fun, fire, and pathos--metre, mirth, and noise;

To make you die with laughter, or the hiccups,

Tickle your favourites, or smash your tea-cups.”

“By the way, in former times the term _good-breeding_ meant a

combination of all that was amiable and excellent; and a well-bred

person would shrink from an action or expression that could possibly

wound the feelings of another; its foundation was laid in truth, and

its supporting pillars were justice and integrity, sensibility and

philanthropy; but

“In this gay age--in Taste's enlighten'd times,

When Fashion sanctifies the basest crimes;

E'en not to swear and game were impolite,

Since he who sins in _style_ must sure be right.”

A well-bred person must learn to smile when he is angry, and to laugh

even when he is vexed to the very soul.

“It would be the height of _mauvaise honte_ for a wellbred person to

blush upon any occasions whatever; no young lady blushes after eleven

years of age; to study the expression of the countenance of others, in

order to govern your own, is indispensably necessary.

“In former times, no well-bred person would have uttered a falsehood;

but now such ideas are completely exploded, and such conduct would now

be termed a _bore_. My Lord Portly remarks, 'It is a cold day.' 'Yes, my

Lord, it is a very cold day,' replies Major Punt. In two minutes after,

meeting Lord Lounge, who observes he thinks the weather very warm--'Yes,

very warm, my Lord,' is the reply--thus contradicting himself almost in

the same breath. It would be perfectly inconsistent in a well-bred

man to think, for fear of being absent. When he enters or leaves a

drawing-room, he should round his shoulders, drop his head, and

imitate a clown or a coachman. This has the effect of the best _ruse

de guerre_--for it serves to astonish the ladies, when they afterwards

~46~~discover, by the familiarity of his address, and his unrestrained

manners, what a well-bred man he is; for he will address every fair one

in the room in the most enchanting terms, except her to whom in the same

party he had previously paid the most particular attention; and on her

he will contrive to turn his back for the whole evening, and if he is a

man of fashion, he will thus cause triumph to the other ladies, and save

the neglected fair one from envious and slanderous whisperings.”

“An admirable picture of living in style, and good breeding, indeed!”

cried Tom. “The game is in view and well worth pursuit; so hark forward!

hark forward! my boys.”

Sparkle, now recollecting his engagement--with “you know who” as he

significantly observed in the last Chapter, withdrew, after promising to

take a stroll by way of killing an hour or two with them in the morning;

and Tom and his Cousin soon after retired to rest--

“Perchance to sleep, perchance to dream.”

CHAPTER VI

“The alarm was so strong.

So loud and so long,

'Twas surely some robber, or sprite,

Who without any doubt

Was prowling about

To fill ev'ry heart with affright.”

~47~~THE smiles of a May morning, bedecked with the splendid rays of a

rising sun, awakened Tallyho about five o'clock, and being accustomed to

rise early in the country, he left the downy couch of soft repose, and

sought his way down stairs. Not a sound of any kind was to be heard in

the house, but the rattling of the carts and the coaches in the streets,

with the deep-toned accompaniment of a dustman's bell, and an occasional

_ab libitum_ of “Clothes--clothes sale,” gave Bob an idea that all the

world was moving. However he could find nobody up; he walked into the

drawing-room, amused himself for some time by looking out of the window,

indulging his observations and remarks, without knowing what to make of

the moving mass of incongruities which met his eye, and wondering what

time the servants of the house would wake: he tried the street-door, but

found it locked, bolted, and chained; and if he had known where to have

found his friend Tom, he would have aroused him with _the View halloo_.

“It is strange,” thought he to himself, “all the world seems abroad,

and yet not a soul stirring here!” Then checking the current of his

reflections, “But this,” said he, “is Life in London. Egad! I must not

make a noise, because it will not be _good breeding_.” In this wray he

sauntered about the house for near two hours, till at last espying his

portmanteau, which had been left in the passage by the servants the

previous evening--“I'll carry this up stairs,” said he, “by way of

amusement;” and carelessly shouldering the portmanteau, he was walking

~48~~deliberately up stairs, when his ears were suddenly attracted by a

loud cry of “Murder, murder, thieves, murder!” and the violent ringing

of a bell. Alarmed at these extraordinary sounds, which appeared to be

near him at a moment when he conceived no soul was stirring, he dropped

his portmanteau over the banisters, which fell, (demolishing in its way

an elegant Grecian patent lamp with glass shades, drops, &c.) into the

passage below with a hideous crash, while the cry of Murder, thieves,

murder, was repeated by many voices, and rendered him almost immoveable.

In the next moment, the butler, the cook, the groom, and indeed every

person in the house, appeared on the stair-case, some almost in a state

of nudity, and shrinking from each other's gaze, and all armed with

such weapons as chance had thrown in their way, to attack the supposed

depredator.

Among the rest, fortunately for Tallyho, (who stood balancing himself

against the banisters in a state of indecision whether he should ascend

or descend) Tom Dashall in his night-gown burst out of his room in alarm

at the noise, with a brace of pistols, one in his hand in the very act

of cocking it, and the other placed in convenient readiness under his

left arm. “Why, what the devil is the matter?” vociferated he, and at

that moment his eye caught the agitated figure of his Cousin Bob, on the

half-landing place below him. At the sound of his well-known voice, the

innocent and unsuspecting cause of this confusion and alarm looked up

at his friend, as if half afraid and half ashamed of the occurrence, and

stammered out, “Where is the thief?--Who is murdered?--I'll swear there

is something broke somewhere--tell me which way to go!” Tom looked

around him at the group of half-clad nymphs and swains, (who were now

huddling together, conceiving their security lay in combination, and

finding all eyes were placed with astonishment and wonder on Bob) began

to see through what had happened, and burst into an immoderate fit of

laughter; which relieved the frightened damsels, but so confounded poor

Tallyho, that he scarcely knew whether he was standing on his head or

his heels. “Why,” said Tom, addressing himself to his Cousin, “you will

get yourself murdered if you go wandering about people's houses at the

dead of the night in this manner--are you asleep or awake?--who have you

made an assignation with--or ~49~~where are you going to--what are you

up to, Master Bobby, eh?--These tricks won't do here!”

“Is't Love's unhallow'd flame invites to roam,

And bids you from your pillow creep?

Or say, why thus disturb my peaceful home,

Like Macbeth, who doth murder sleep.”

Tallyho was unable to reply: he looked down over the banister--he looked

up at the risible features of Tom Dashall, who was almost bursting at

the ludicrous situation in which he found his friend and his servants.

“Come,” said Tom, “there are no thieves--all's right”--to the

servants, “you may quiet your minds and go to business. Bob, I'll be

down with you presently.” Upon this, the stair-case was cleared in an

instant of all but the unfortunate Tallyho; and peace appeared to

be restored in the family, but not to Bob's mind, conceiving he had

committed a gross violation of good breeding, and shewn but a bad

specimen of his aptitude to become a learner of London manners. It must

be confessed, it was rather an awkward commencement; however, in a few

minutes, recovering himself from the fright, he crawled gently down the

stairs, and took a survey of the devastation he had made--cursed the

lamp, d----d the portmanteau--then snatching it from the ruin before

him, and again placing his luggage on his shoulder, he quietly walked up

stairs to his bed-room.

It is much to be lamented in this wonderful age of discovery and

continual improvement, that our philosophers have not yet found out a

mode of supplying the place of glass (as almost every thing else) with

cast-iron. The substitution of gas for oil has long been talked of, as

one of national importance, even so much so, that one man, whose ideas

were as brilliant as his own experiments, has endeavoured to shew that

its produce would in a short time pay off the national debt!{1}

“A consummation devoutly to be wished;” and experience has taught the

world at large there is nothing impossible, nor is there any one in

existence more credulous than honest John Bull. But we are

1 Mr. Winsor, the original lecturer on the powers of gas, in

Pall Mall.

~50~~digressing from the adventure of the lamp, however it was

occasioned, by clearly proving it was not a _patent safety-lamp_: and

that among the luxuries of the Hon. Tom Dashall's habitation, gas had

not yet been introduced, will speedily be discovered.

Upon arriving in his bed-room, wondering within himself how he should

repair the blundering mistake, of which he had so unluckily been the

unwilling and unconscious author, he found himself in a new dilemma,

as the receptacle of the oil had fallen with the lamp, and plentifully

bedewed the portmanteau with its contents, so that he had now

transferred the savoury fluid to his coat, waistcoat, cravat, and shirt.

What was to be done in such a case? He could not make his appearance in

that state; but his mortifications were not yet at an end--

“Hills over hills, and Alps on Alps arise.”

The key of his portmanteau was missing; he rummaged all his pockets

in vain--he turned them inside out--it was not here--it was not

there; enraged at the multiplicity of disappointments to which he was

subjected, he cut open the leathern carriage of his wardrobe with

a penknife; undressed, and re-dressed himself; by which time it was

half-past eight o'clock. His Cousin Tom, who had hurried down according

to promise, had in the mean time been making enquiry after him, and now

entered the room, singing,

“And all with attention would eagerly mark:

When he cheer'd up the pack--Hark! to Rockwood hark! hark!”

At the sight of Dashall, he recovered himself from his embarrassment,

and descended with him to the breakfast-parlour.

“Did you send to Robinson's?” enquired Tom of one of the servants, as

they entered the room. “Yes, Sir,” was the reply; “and Weston's too?”

continued he; being answered in the affirmative, “then let us have

breakfast directly.” Then turning to Bob, “Sparkle,” said he, “promised

to be with us about eleven, for the purpose of taking a stroll; in the

mean time we must dress and make ready.”--“Dress,” said Bob, “Egad!

I have dressed and made ready twice already this morning.” He then

~51~~recounted the adventures above recorded; at which Dashall

repeatedly burst into fits of immoderate laughter. Breakfast being over,

a person from Mr. Robinson's was announced, and ushered into the room.

A more prepossessing appearance had scarcely met Bob's eye--a tall,

elegant young man, dressed in black, cut in the extreme of fashion,

whose features bespoke intelligence, and whose air and manner were

indicative of a something which to him was quite new. He arose upon his

entrance, and made a formal bow; which was returned by the youth. “Good

morning, gentlemen.”--“Good morning, Mr. R----,” said Tom, mentioning

a name celebrated by

Pope in the following lines:

“But all my praises, why should lords engross?

Bise, honest Muse, and sing the man of Boss.”

“I am happy to have the honour of seeing you in town again, Sir!

The fashionables are mustering very strong, and the prospect of the

approaching coronation appears to be very attractive.” During this

time he was occupied in opening a leathern case, which contained combs,

brushes, &c.; then taking off his coat, he appeared in a jacket with an

apron, which, like a fashionable _pinafore_ of the present day, nearly

concealed his person, from his chin to his toes. “Yes,” replied Dashall,

“the coronation is a subject of deep importance just now in the

circles of fashion,” seating himself in his chair, in readiness for the

operator,{1} who, Bob now discovered, was no other than the _Peruquier_.

1 The progress of taste and refinement is visible in all

situations, and the language of putting has become so well

understood by all ranks of society, that it is made use of

by the most humble and obscure tradesmen of the metropolis.

One remarkable instance ought not to be omitted here. In a

narrow dirty street, leading from the Temple towards

Blackfriars, over a small triangular-fronted shop, scarcely

big enough to hold three persons at a time, the eye of the

passing traveller is greeted with the following welcome

information, painted in large and legible characters, the

letters being each nearly a foot in size:--

HAIR CUT AND MODERNIZED!!!

This is the true “_Multum in parvo_ “--a combination of

the “_Utile et dulce_,” the very acme of perfection.

Surely, after this, to Robinson, Vickery, Boss, and Cryer, we

may say--“Ye lesser stars, hide your diminished heads.”

The art of puffing may be further illustrated by the

following specimen of the Sublime, which is inserted here

for the information of such persons as, residing in the

country, have had no opportunity of seeing the original.

“R---- makes gentlemen's and ladies' perukes on an entire

new system; which for lightness, taste, and ease, are

superior to any other in Europe. He has exerted the genius

and abilities of the first artists to complete his

exhibition of ornamental hair, in all its luxuriant

varieties, where the elegance of nature and convenience of

art are so blended, as at once to rival and ameliorate each

other. Here his fair patrons may uninterruptedly examine the

effects of artificial tresses, or toupees of all

complexions, and, in a trial on themselves, blend the

different tints with their own!”

The strife for pre-eminence in this art is not however

confined to this country; for we find an instance recorded

in an American newspaper, which may perhaps be equally

amusing and acceptable:--

“A. C. D. La vigne, having heard of the envious expressions

uttered by certain common barbers, miserable chin-scrapers,

and frizulary quacks, tending to depreciate that superiority

which genius is entitled to, and talents will invariably

command, hereby puts them and their vulgar arts at defiance;

and, scorning to hold parley with such sneaking imps,

proposes to any gentleman to defend and maintain, at his

shop, the head quarters of fashion, No. 6, South Gay Street,

against all persons whomsoever, his title to supremacy in

curlery, wiggery, and razory, to the amount of one hundred

dollars and upwards. As hostile as he is to that low style

of puffery adopted by a certain adventurer, 'yclept Higgins,

Lavigne cannot avoid declaring, in the face of the world,

that his education has been scientifical; that after having

finished his studies at Paris, he took the tour of the

universe, having had the rare fortune of regulating the

heads of Catherine the Second, and the Grand Turk; the King

of Prussia, and the Emperor of China; the Mamelukes of

Egypt, and the Dey of Algiers; together with all the ladies

of their respective Courts. He has visited the Cape of Good

Hope, India, Java, Madagascar, Tartary, and Kamschatka,

whence he reached the United States by the way of Cape Horn.

In England he had previously tarried, where he delivered

Lectures on Heads in great style. He has at last settled in

Baltimore, determined to devote the remainder of his days to

the high profession to which his des-tiny has called him;

inviting all the literati, the lovers of the arts and

sciences, to visit him at his laboratory of beauty, where he

has separate rooms for accommodating ladies and gentlemen,

who desire to adorn their heads with _hair_udition. “Can

France, England--nay, the world itself, produce such

another specimen of puffing and barberism?

~53~~“And pray,” continued Tom, “what is there new in the haut ton?

Has there been any thing of importance to attract attention since my

absence? “Nothing very particular,” was the reply--“all very dull and

flat. Rumour however, as usual, has not been inactive; two or three

trifling faux pas, and--oh!--yes--two duels--one in the literary world:

two authors, who, after attacking each other with the quill, chose to

decide their quarrel with the pistol, and poor Scot lost his life! But

how should authors understand such things? The other has made a great

noise in the world--You like the Corinthian cut, I believe, Sir?”

“I believe so too,” said Tom--“but don't you cut the duel so short--who

were the parties?”

“Oh! aye, why one, Sir, was a celebrated leader of ton, no other than

Lord Shampêtre, and the other Mr. Webb, a gentleman well known: it was

a sort of family affair. His lordship's gallantry and courage,

however, were put to the test, and the result bids fair to increase his

popularity. The cause was nothing very extraordinary, but the effect had

nearly proved fatal to his Lordship.”

“What, was he wounded?” enquired Tom.

“It was thought so at first,” replied the _Peruquier_, “but it was

afterwards discovered that his Lordship had only fainted at the report

of his opponent's pistol.”

“Ha! ha! ha!” said Tom, “then it was a bloodless battle--but I should

like to know more of the particulars.”

“Hold your head a little more this way, Sir, if you please--that will

do, I thank you, Sir;--why, it appears, that in attempting to fulfil an

assignation with Mr. Webb's wife, the husband, who had got scent of

the appointment, as to place and time, lustily cudgelled the dandy Lord

Whiskerphiz, and rescued his own brows from certain other fashionable

appendages, for which he had no relish. His Lordship's whiskers were

injured, by which circumstance some people might conceive his features

and appearance must have been improved, however that was not his

opinion; his bones were sore, and his mind (that is to say, as

the public supposed) hurt. The subject became a general theme of

conversation, a Commoner had thrashed a Lord!--flesh and blood could not

bear it--but then such flesh and blood could as little bear the thought

of a duel--Lord Polly was made the bearer of a challenge--a meeting took

place, and at the first fire his Lordship fell. A fine subject for the

caricaturists, and they have not failed to make a good use of it. The

fire of his Lordship's features ~54~~was so completely obscured by his

whiskers and mustachios, that it was immediately concluded the shot had

proved mortal, till Lord Polly (who had taken refuge for safety behind a

neighbouring tree) advancing, drew a bottle from his pocket, which,

upon application to his nose, had the desired effect of restoring

the half-dead duellist to life and light. The Seconds interfered, and

succeeded in bringing the matter to a conclusion, and preventing the

expected dissolution of Shampetre, who, report says, has determined not

to place himself in such a perilous situation again. The fright

caused him a severe illness, from which he has scarcely yet recovered

sufficiently to appear in public--I believe that will do, Sir; will you

look in the glass--can I make any alteration?”

“Perhaps not in your story,” replied Tom; “and as to my head, so as you

do not make it like the one you have been speaking of, I rely solely on

your taste and judgment.”

The Peruquier made his bow--“Sir, your politeness is well known!” then

turning to Tallyho, “Will you allow me the honour of officiating for

you, Sir?”

“Certainly,” replied Bob, who by this time had seen the alteration made

in his Cousin's appearance, as well as been delighted with the account

of the duel, at which they all laughed during the narration--and

immediately prepared for action, while Dashall continued his enquiries

as to the fashionable occurrences during his absence.

“There have been some other circumstances, of minor importance,”

continued the Peruquier--“it is said that a certain Lord, of high

military character, has lost considerable sums of money, and seriously

impaired his fortune--Lord ---- and a friend are completely ruined at

hazard--there was a most excellent mill at Moulsey Hurst on Thursday

last, between the Gas-light man, who appears to be a game chicken, and a

prime hammerer--he can give and take with any man--and Oliver--Gas beat

him hollow, it was all Lombard-street to a china orange. The Masked

Festival on the 18th is a subject of considerable attraction, and

wigs of every nature, style, and fashion, are in high request for the

occasion--The Bob, the Tye, the Natural Scratch, the Full Bottom, the

Queue, the Curl, the Clerical, the Narcissus, the Auricula, the Capital,

the Corinthian, the Roman, the Spanish, the French, the Dutch--oh! we

are full of business just now. Speaking of the art, by the by, reminds

me of a circumstance which occurred a very ~55~~short time back, and

which shows such a striking contrast between the low-bred citizens,

and the True Blues of the West!--have the kindness to hold your head a

little on one side, Sir, if you please--a little more towards the light,

if you please--that will do excellently--why you'll look quite another

thing!--From the country, I presume?” “You are right,” said Bob, “but I

don't want a wig just yet.”

“Shall be happy to fit you upon all occasions--masquerade, ball, or

supper, Sir: you may perhaps wish to go out, as we say in the West, in

coy.--happy to receive your commands at any time, prompt attention and

dispatch.”

“Zounds! you are clipping the wig too close,” said Tom, impatient to hear

the story, “and if you go on at this rate, you won't leave us even the

_tail_ (tale).”

“Right, Sir, I take--'and thereby hangs a tale.' The observation is

in point, _verbum sat_, as the latinist would say. Well, Sir, as I was

saying, a citizen, with a design to outdo his neighbours, called at

one of the first shops in London a very short time since, and gave

particular orders to have his _pericranium_ fitted with a wig of the

true royal cut. The dimensions of his upper story were taken--the order

executed to the very letter of the instructions--it fitted like wax--it

was nature--nay it soared beyond nature--it was the perfection of

art--the very acmé of science! Conception was outdone, and there is no

power in language to describe it. He was delighted; his wife was charmed

with the idea of a new husband, and he with his new wig; but

“Now comes the pleasant joke of all,

'Tis when too close attack'd we fall.”

The account was produced---would you believe it, he refused to have

it--he objected to the price.”

“The devil take it!” said Tom, “object to pay for the acme of

perfection; this unnaturally natural wig would have fetched any money

among the collectors of curiosities.”

“What was the price?” enquired Bob.

“Trifling, Sir, very trifling, to an artist 'of the first water,' as a

jeweller would say by his diamonds--only thirty guineas!!!”

“Thirty guineas!” exclaimed Bob, starting from his seat, and almost

overturning the _modernizer_ of his head.

~56~~Then, recollecting Sparkle's account of Living in Style, and Good

Breeding, falling gently into his seat again.

“Did I hurt you, Sir?” exclaimed the Peruquier.

Dashall bit his lip, and smiled at the surprise of his Cousin, which was

now so visibly depicted in his countenance.

“Not at all,” replied Tallyho.

“In two minutes more, Sir, your head will be a grace to; Bond Street or

St. James's; it cuts well, and looks well; and if you will allow me to

attend you once a month, it will continue so.”

Tom hummed a tune, and looked out of the window; the other two were

silent till Bob was released. Tom _tip'd the blunt_, and the interesting

young man made his congé, and departed.

“A very interesting and amusing sort of person,” said Bob.

“Yes,” replied Tom, “he is a walking volume of information: he knows

something of every thing, and almost of every body. He has been in

better circumstances, and seen a great deal of life; his history is

somewhat remarkable, and some particulars, not generally known, have

excited a considerable portion of interest in his fate among those

who are acquainted with them. He is the son, before marriage, of

a respectable and worthy tradesman, a celebrated vender of bear's

grease,{1} lately deceased, who

1 The infallibility of this specimen cannot possibly be

doubted, after reading the following

“Bear's grease has virtues, many, great and rare;

To hair decay'd, life, health, and vigour giving;

'Tis sold by----, fam'd for cutting hair,

At -----.----------------------------------- living.

Who then would lose a head of hair for trying?

A thousand tongues are heard 'I won't,' replying;

T----r no doubt with bear's grease can supply

A thousand more, when they're dispos'd to buy.

No deception!--Seven Bears publicly exhibited in seven

months, and not an agent on the globe's surface.--Sold upon

oath, from 1L. to 10s. 6d. The smallest child will direct

to ----, near the church--a real Bear over the door,

where a good peruke is charged 1L.. 10s. equal to those

produced by Mr. T., at B----ss's, for 2L. 12s. 6d.--Scalp

10s. 6d.~and 6d. only for hair-cutting--never refusing one

shilling.

N. B. Bear's-grease effects wonders for the knees &c. of

horses.”

~57~~resided in the vicinity of Cornhill, and was for many years brought

up under his roof as his nephew; in which situation, the elegance of his

person, the vivacity of his disposition, and the general information he

acquired, became subjects of attraction. His education was respectable

for his situation, and his allowance liberal. His father however

marrying a young lady of some property, and he, 'gay, light, and airy,'

falling into bad hands, found his finances not sufficient to support

the company he kept, and by these means involved himself in pecuniary

difficulties, which, however, (if report say true) were more than once

or twice averted by the indulgent parent. In the course of time, the

family was increased by two sons, but he continued the flower of the

flock. At length it was intended by his father to retire, in part, from

business, and leave its management to this young man, and another who

had been many years in his service, and whose successful endeavours in

promoting his interest were well deserving his consideration; and the

writings for this purpose were actually drawn up. Previous however

to their execution, he was dispatched to Edinburgh, to superintend an

extensive concern of his father's in that city, where, meeting with

an amiable young lady with some expectations, he married without the

consent of his parent, a circumstance which drew down upon him the good

man's displeasure.

“Not at all dismayed at this, he almost immediately left his father's

shop, and set up business for himself in the same neighbourhood, where

he continued for two or three years, living, as it was supposed, upon

the produce of his matrimonial connexion. At length, however, it was

discovered that he was insolvent, and bankruptcy became the consequence.

Here he remained till affairs were arranged, and then returned to London

with his wife and two children.

“In the mean time, the legitimate family of his father had become useful

in the business, and acquainted with his former indiscretions, which,

consequently, were not likely to be obliterated from the old gentleman's

recollection. Without money and without prospect, he arrived in London,

where, for some unliquidated debt, he was arrested and became a resident

in the King's Bench, from which he was liberated by the Insolvent

Debtor's Act. Emancipated from this, he took small shops, or rather

rooms, in various parts of the city, vainly endeavouring to ~58~~support

the character he had formerly maintained. These however proved abortive.

Appeals to his father were found fruitless, and he has consequently,

after a series of vicissitudes, been compelled to act as a journeyman.

In the career of his youth, he distinguished himself as a dashing,

high-spirited fellow. He was selected as fuegel man to a regiment of

Volunteers, and made himself conspicuous at the celebrated O. P. row, at

the opening of Covent Garden Theatre, on which occasion he attracted the

notice of the Caricaturists,{1} and was generally known in the circles

of High Life, by his attendance on the first families on behalf of his

father.

But perhaps the most remarkable circumstance took place at his deceased

parent's funeral. Being so reduced at that time as to have no power even

of providing the necessary apparel to manifest the respect, gratitude,

and affection, he had ever entertained for the author of his being;

and as a natural son has no legal claims upon his father, so naturally

nothing was left for him; he applied by letter to the legitimates for a

suit of mourning, and permission to attend the remains of their common

father to the last receptacle of mortality, which being peremptorily

refused, he raised a subscription, obtained clothing, with a gown and

hatband, and, as the melancholy procession was moving to the parish

church, which was but a few yards distance, he rushed from his

hiding-place, stationed himself immediately in the front of the other

attendants upon the occasion, and actually accompanied the corpse as

chief mourner, having previously concerted with his own mother to be

upon the spot. When the body was deposited in the vault, he took her

by the hand, led her down the steps, and gave some directions to the

bearers as to the situation of the coffin, while the other mourners,

panic-struck at the extraordinary circumstances in which they found

themselves, turned about and walked in mournful silence back, ruminating

on the past with amazement, and full of conjecture for the future.

1 A caricature of a similar nature to the one alluded to by

Dashall in this description, was certainly exhibited at the

time of the memorable 0. P. row, which exhibited a young man

of genteel appearance in the pit of Covent Garden Theatre,

addressing the audience. It had inscribed at the bottom

of it,

Is this Barber-Ross-a?

in allusion (no doubt) to the tragedy of Barbarossa.

~59~~“It was an extraordinary situation for all parties,” said Bob; “but

hold, who have we here?--Egad! there is an elegant carriage drawn up to

the door; some Lord, or Nobleman, I'll be bound for it--We can't be seen

in this deshabille, I shall make my escape.” And saying this, he was

hastening out of the room.

“Ha! ha! ha!” exclaimed Tom, “you need not be so speedy in your flight.

This is one of the fashionable requisites of London, with whom you

must also become acquainted; there is no such thing as doing without

them--dress and address are indispensables. This is no other than one of

the decorators.”

“Decorators!” continued Bob, not exactly comprehending him.

“Monsieur le Tailleur--'Tin Mr. W----, from Cork Street, come to

exhibit his Spring patterns, and turn us out with the new cut--so pray

remain where you are.”

“Tailor--decorator,” said Bob--“Egad! the idea is almost as ridiculous

as the representation of the taylor riding to Brentford.”

By this time the door was opened, and Mr. W. entered, making his bow

with the precision of a dancing-master, and was followed by a servant

with pattern-books, the other apparatus of his trade. The first

salutations over, large pattern-books were displayed upon the table,

exhibiting to view a variety of fancy-coloured cloths, and measures

taken accordingly. During which time, Tom, as on the former occasion,

continued his enquiries relative to the occurrences in the fashionable

world.

“Rather tame, Sir, at present: the Queen's unexpected visit to the two

theatres was for a time a matter of surprise--the backwardness of Drury

Lane managers to produce 'God Save the King,' has been construed into

disloyalty to the Sovereign--and a laughable circumstance took place on

his going to the same house a few nights back, which has already been

made the subject of much merriment, both in conversation and caricature.

It appears that Mr. Gloss'em, who is a _shining character_ in the

theatrical world, at least among the minors of the metropolis; and whose

father was for many years a wax-chandler in the neighbourhood of Soho,

holds a situation as clerk of the cheque to the Gentlemen Pensioners

of his Majesty's household, as well as that of Major Domo, manager and

proprietor of a certain theatre, not half a mile from Waterloo Bridge.

~60~~A part of his duty in the former capacity is to attend occasionally

upon the person of the King, as one of the appendages of Royalty; in

which _character_ he appeared on the night in question. The servants

of the attendants who were in waiting for their masters, had a room

appropriated to their use. One of these latter gentry, no other than

Gloss'em's servant, being anxious to have as near a view of the sacred

person of his Majesty as his employer, had placed himself in a good

situation at the door, in order to witness his departure, when a Mr.

Winpebble, of mismanaging notoriety, and also a ponderous puff, assuming

managerial authority, espying him, desired the police-officers and

guards in attendance to turn out the lamp-lighter's boy, pointing to

Gloss'em's servant. This, it seems, was no sooner said than done, at the

point of the bayonet. Some little scuffle ensued--His Majesty and suite

departed--Hold up your arm, Sir.”

“But did the matter end there?” enquired Dashall.

“O dear, no--not exactly.”

“Because if it did,” continued Tom, “in my opinion, it began with a wax

taper, and ended in the smoke of a farthing rushlight. You have made it

appear to be a gas-receiver without supplies.”

“I beg pardon,” said Mr. W.; “the pipes are full, but the gas is not yet

turned on.”

This created a laugh, and Mr. W. proceeded:--

“The next day, the servant having informed his Master of the treatment

he had received, a gentleman was dispatched from Gloss'em to Winpebble,

to demand an apology: which being refused, the former, with a large

horsewhip under his arm, accosted the latter, and handsomely belaboured

his shoulders with lusty stripes. That, you see, Sir, sets the gas all

in a blaze.--That will do, Sir.--Now, Sir, at your service,” addressing

himself to Tallyho.

“Yes,” said Tom, “the taper's alight again now; and pray what was the

consequence?”

“Winpebble called for assistance, which was soon obtained, and away they

went to Bow-street. Manager Taper, and Manager Vapour--the one blazing

with fire, and the other exhausted with thrashing;--'twas a laughing

scene. Manager Strutt, and Manager Butt, were strutting and butting

each other. The magistrate heard the case, and recommended peace and

quietness between ~61~~them, by an amicable adjustment. The irritated

minds of the now two enraged managers could not be brought to consent

to this. Gloss'em declared the piece should be repeated, having been

received with the most rapturous applause. Winpebble roundly swore that

the piece was ill got up, badly represented, and damn'd to all intents

and purposes--that the author had more strength than wit--and though

not a friend to injunctions himself, he moved for an injunction against

Gloss'em; who was at length something like the renowned John Astley with

his imitator Rees:

“This great John Astley, and this little Tommy Rees, Were both bound

over to keep the King's Peas.”

Gloss'em was bound to keep the peace, and compelled to find security

in the sum of twenty pounds. Thus ended the farce of _The Enraged

Managers--Drury Lane in a Blaze, or Bow Street bewildered._”

“Ha! ha! ha! an animated sort of vehicle for public amusement truly,”

said Tom, “and of course produced with new scenery, music, dresses, and

decorations; forming a combination of attractions superior to any ever

exhibited at any theatre--egad! it would make a most excellent scene in

a new pantomime.”

“Ha! ha! ha!” said Mr. W. “true, Sir, true; and the duel of Lord

Shampetre would have also its due portion of effect; but as his

Lordship is a good customer of mine, you must excuse any remarks on that

circumstance.”

“We have already heard of his Lordship's undaunted courage and firmness,

as well as the correctness of his aim.”

“He! he! he!” chuckled W.; “then I fancy your information is not very

correct, for it appears his lordship displayed a want of every one of

those qualities that you impute to him; however, I venture to hope no

unpleasant measures will result from the occurrence, as I made the very

pantaloons he wore upon the occasion. It seems he is considerably _cut

up_; but you must know that, previous to the duel, I was consulted

upon the best mode of securing his sacred person from the effects of a

bullet: I recommended a very high waistband lined with whale-bone, and

well padded with horse-hair, to serve as a breast-plate, and calculated

at once to produce warmth, and resist ~62~~penetration. The pantaloons

were accordingly made, thickly overlaid with extremely rich and

expensive gold lace, and considered to be stiff enough for any

thing--aye, even to keep his Lordship erect. But what do you suppose was

the effect of all my care? I should not like to make a common talk

of it, but so it certainly was: his Lordship had no objection to the

whalebone, buckram, &c. outside of him, but was fearful that if his

antagonist's fire should be well-directed, his tender body might be

additionally hurt by the splinters of the whalebone being carried along

with it, and actually proposed to take them off before the dreadful hour

of appointment came on. In this however he was fortunately overruled by

his Second, who, by the by, was but a goose in the affair, and managed

it altogether very badly, except in the instance of being prompt with

the smelling-bottle, which certainly was well-timed; and it would have

been a hissing hot business, but for the judicious interference of the

other Second.”

A loud laugh succeeded this additional piece of information relative

to the _affair of honour_; and Snip having finished his measurement,

colours were fixed upon, and he departed, promising to be punctual in

the delivery of the new habiliments on the next day.

“I am now convinced,” said Bob, “of the great importance and utility of

a London tradesman, and the speed of their execution is wonderful!”

“Yes,” replied Tom, “it is only to be equalled by the avidity with which

they obtain information, and the rapidity with which they circulate

it--why, in another half hour your personal appearance, the cut of

your country coat, your complexion and character, as far as so short

an interview would allow for obtaining it, will be known to all his

customers--they are generally quick and acute discerners. But come,

we must be making ready for our walk, it is now half-past ten

o'clock--Sparkle will be here presently. It is time to be dressing, as I

mean to have a complete ramble during the day, take a chop somewhere

on the road, and in the evening, my boy, we'll take a peep into the

theatre. Lord Byron's tragedy of Marino Faliero is to be performed

to-night, and I can, I think, promise you a treat of the highest kind.”

Tallyho, who had no idea of dressing again, having already been obliged

to dress twice, seemed a little surprised at the proposition, but

supposing it to be the ~~63~~custom of London, nodded assent, and

proceeded to the dressing-room. As he walked up stairs he could not help

casting his visual orbs over the banisters, just to take a bird's eye

view of the scene of his morning disasters, of which, to his great

astonishment and surprise, not a vestige remained--a new lamp had been

procured, which seemed to have arisen like a phoenix from its ashes, and

the stone passage and stairs appeared as he termed it, “as white as a

cauliflower.” At the sight of all this, he was gratified and delighted,

for he expected to find a heap of ruins to reproach him. He skipped, or

rather vaulted up the stairs, three or four at a stride, with all the

gaiety of a race-horse when first brought to the starting-post. The

rapid movements of a Life in London at once astonished and enraptured

him; nor did he delay his steps, or his delight, until he had reached

the topmost story, when bursting open the door, lie marched boldly into

the room. Here again he was at fault; a female shriek assailed his ear,

which stopped his course, and looking around him, he could not find from

whence the voice proceeded. “Good God!” continued the same voice, “what

can be the meaning of this intrusion?--Begone, rash man.” In the mean

time, Tom, who was in a room just under the one into which he had

unfortunately made so sudden an entrance, appeared at the door.

“What the devil is the matter now?” said Tom; when spying his cousin

in the centre of the room, without seeming to know whether to return or

remain, he could not restrain his laughter. Tallyho looked up, like one

in a dream--then down--then casting his eyes around him, he perceived

in the corner, peeping out from the bed-curtains in which she had

endeavoured to hide her almost naked person, the head of the old

Housekeeper. The picture was moving, and at the same time laughable.

The confusion of Bob--the fright of the Housekeeper, and the laughter of

Tom, were subjects for the pencil of a Hogarth!

“So,” said Tom, “you are for springing game in all parts of the house,

and at all times too. How came you here?”--“Not by my appointment, Sir,”

replied the old lady, who still remained rolled up in the curtain. “I

never did such a thing in all my born days: I'm an honest woman, and

mean to remain so. I never was so ashamed in all my life.”

~64~~“I believe the house is enchanted,” cried Bob; “d---- me, I never

seem to step without being on a barrel of gunpowder, ready to ignite

with the touch of my foot. I have made some cursed blunder again, and

don't seem to know where I am.”

“Come, come,” said Dashall, “that won't do--I'm sure you had some design

upon my Housekeeper, who you hear by her own account is a good woman,

and won't listen to your advances.”

By this time the servants had arrived at the door, and were alternately

peeping in, wondering to see the two gentlemen in such a situation, and

secretly giggling and enjoying the embarrassment of the old woman,

whose wig lay on the table, and who was displaying her bald pate and

shrivelled features from the bed-curtains, enveloped in fringe and

tassels, which only served to render them still more ludicrous.

Bob affected to laugh; said it was very odd--he could not account for

it at all--stammered out something like an apology--begg'd pardon--it

was--a mistake--he really took it for his own room--he never was

so bewildered in his life--was very sorry he should cause so much

alarm--but really had no sort of intention whatever.

“Well,” said Dashall, “the best reparation you can now make for your

intrusion is a speedy retreat. Time is escaping, so come along;” and

taking him by the arm, they walked down the stairs together, and then

proceeded to re-fit without further obstruction, in order to be ready

for Sparkle, who was expected every minute.

The first day of Bob's residence in London had already been productive

of some curious adventures, in which he, unfortunately as he considered,

had sustained the principal character--a character not altogether

suitable to is inclinations or wishes, though productive of much

merriment to his ever gay and sprightly Cousin, who had witnessed the

embarrassment of his pupil upon his first entrance into Life with

ungovernable laughter. It was to him excellent sport, while it furnished

a good subject of speculation and conversation among the servants below,

but was not so well relished by the affrighted old house-keeper. Indeed,

the abrupt entrance of a man into her bed-chamber had so deranged her

ideas, that she was longer than usual in decking her person previous to

her ~65~~re-appearance. The tender frame of the old lady had been

subjected to serious agitations at the bare idea of such a visit, and

the probable imputations that might in consequence be thrown upon her

sacred and unspotted character; nor could she for some time recover her

usual serenity.

Such was the situation of the parties at the moment we are now

describing; but as our Heroes are preparing for an extensive, actual

survey of men, manners, and tilings, we shall for the present leave them

in peace and quietness, while we proceed to the next chapter.

CHAPTER VII

What shows! and what sights! what a round of delights

You'll meet in the gay scene of London;

How charming to view” amusements still new,

Twenty others you'll find soon as one's done.

At the gay scene at Court--Peers and gentry resort,

In pleasure you'll never miss one day:

There's the Opera treat, the parade in Bond Street,

And the crowd in Hyde Park on a Sunday.

~66~~TOM, whose wardrobe was extensive, found no difficulty, and lost no

time in preparing for the promenade; while, on the other hand, Tallyho

was perplexed to know how to tog himself out in a way suitable to

make his appearance in the gay world of fashion. Dashall had therefore

rapidly equipped himself, when, perceiving it was half-past eleven,

he was the more perplexed to account for the absence of Sparkle; for

although it was an early hour, yet, upon such an occasion as that of

initiating a new recruit, it was very extraordinary that he should not

have been prompt. However, he entered Tallyho's room, and found him

looking out of the window in a posture of rumination, probably revolving

in his mind the events of the morning.

“Come,” said Tom, as he entered, “'tis time to be on the move, and if

Sparkle don't show in a few minutes, we'll set sail and call in upon him

at Long's, in Bond Street. Perhaps he is not well, or something prevents

his appearance--we'll make it in our way, and we have a fine day before

us.”

“I am at your service,” replied Bob, who could not help viewing the

elegance of his Cousin's appearance: the style of his dress, and the

neatness with which his garments fitted him, were all subjects of

admiration, and formed so strong a contrast with his own as almost

to excite envy. He had however attired himself in a way that befits a

fashionable country gentleman: a green coat, white waistcoat, buckskin

breeches, and boots, over ~67~~which a pair of leggings appeared, which

extended below the calf of the leg and half up the thigh, surmounted

with a _Lily Shallow_. Such was the costume in which he was destined to

show off; and thus equipped, after a few minutes they emerged from the

house in Piccadilly on the proposed ramble, and proceeded towards Bond

Street.

The first object that took their particular attention was the Burlington

Arcade. “Come,” said Tom, “we may as well go this way,” and immediately

they passed the man in the gold-laced hat, who guards the entrance to

prevent the admission of boys and improper persons. The display of the

shops, with the sun shining through the windows above, afforded much for

observation, and attracted Bob from side to side--to look, to wonder and

admire. But Tom, who was intent upon finding his friend Sparkle, urged

the necessity of moving onward with more celerity, lest he should be

gone out, and consequently kept drawing his Cousin forward. “Another and

a better opportunity will be afforded for explanation than the present,

and as speed is the order of the day, I hope you will not prove

disorderly; we shall soon reach Long's, and when we have Sparkle with

us, we have one of the most intelligent and entertaining fellows in

the world. He is a sort of index to every thing, and every body; his

knowledge of life and character, together with a facetiousness of

whim and manner, which he has in delineating them, are what we call

in London--_Prime and bang up to the mark_. There is scarcely a Lane,

Court, Alley, or Street, in the Metropolis, but what he knows, from the

remotest corners of Rag-Fair, to the open and elegant Squares of the

West, even to Hyde Park Corner. Memory, mirth, and magic, seem at all

times to animate his tongue, and, as the Song says,

“He is the hoy for bewitching 'em,

Whether good-humour'd or coy.”

Indeed, he is the admiration of all who know him; wit, whim, frolic,

and fun, are constant companions with him, and I really believe, in a

dungeon or a palace, he would always appear the same.”

By this time they had reached Bond Street, in their way to which,

each step they had taken, the streets and avenues of every description

appeared to Bob to be crowded to an excess; the mingling cries which

were ~68~~vociferated around them produced in his mind uncommon

sensations. The rattling of the carriages, the brilliance of the shops,

and the continual hum of the passengers, contributed to heighten the

scene.

“Bond Street,” said Dashall, “is not one of the most elegant streets

in the vicinity of London, but is the resort of the most fashionable

people, and from about two o'clock till five, it is all bustle--all

life--every species of fashionable vehicle is to be seen dashing

along in gay and gallant pride. From two to five are the fashionable

shopping-hours, for which purpose the first families resort to this

well-known street--others, to shew their equipage, make an assignation,

or kill a little time; which is as much a business with some, as is the

more careful endeavours of others to seize him in his flight, and make

the most of his presence. The throng is already increasing; the variety,

richness, and gaiety of the shops in this street, will always be

attractive, and make it a popular rendezvous of both sexes. It will

shortly be as crowded as Rag Fair, or the Royal Exchange; and the magic

splendour has very peculiar properties.

“It makes the tradesman forget--while he is cheating a lovely and

smiling Duchess--that in all probability her ladyship is endeavouring to

cheat him. It makes the gay and airy, the furbelowed and painted lady of

the town, forget that she must pay a visit to her uncle,{1} in order

to raise the wind before she can make her appearance at the theatre

at half-price. It makes the dashing prisoner forget, that while “he

is sporting his figure in the bang-up style of appearance, he is only

taking his ride on a day-rule from the King's Bench. It makes the Lord

who drives four-in-hand forget his losses of the night before at some of

the fashionable gaming-houses. It makes one adventurer forget that the

clothes in which he expects to obtain respect and attention, are more

than likely to be paid for in Newgate; another for a time forgets that

_John Doe_ and _Richard Roe_ have expelled him from his

1 My Uncle is a very convenient and accommodating sort of

friend, who lives at the sign of the Three Balls, indicative

of his willingness to lend money upon good security, for the

payment of enormous interest. The original meaning of the

sign has puzzled the curious and antiquarians, and the only

probable meaning they can discover is, that it implies the

chances are two to one against any property being redeemed

after being once committed to the keeping of this tender

hearted and affectionate relative.

69~~lodgings; and a third that all his worldly possessions are not equal

to the purchase of a dinner. It is an _ignis fatuus_--a sort of magic

lantern replete with delusive appearances--of momentary duration--an

escape to the regions of noise, tumult, vanity, and frivolity, where the

realities of Life, the circumstances and the situation of the observer,

are not suffered to intrude.

“But to be seen in this street at a certain hour, is one of the

essentials to the existence of _haut-ton_--it is the point of attraction

for greetings in splendid equipages, from the haughty bend or familiar

nod of arrogance, to the humble bow of servility. Here mimicry without

money assumes the consequential air of independence: while modest merit

creeps along unheeded through the glittering crowd. Here all the senses

are tantalized with profusion, and the eye is dazzled with temptation,

for no other reason than because it is the constant business of a

fashionable life--not to live in, but out of self, to imitate the

luxuries of the affluent without a tithe of their income, and to

sacrifice morality at the altar of notoriety.”

“Your description of this celebrated street, of which I have heard so

much,” said Tallyho, “is truly lively.”

“But it is strictly true,” continued Tom.

They had now arrived at Long's, and found a barouche and four waiting at

the door. Upon entering, the first person they met was Lord Cripplegate,

whom they passed, and proceeded to the coffee-room; in one of the

boxes of which Tom immediately directed his Cousin's attention to a

well-dressed young man, who was reading the newspaper, and sipping his

coffee--“Take notice of him,” said Tom.

Bob looked at him for a moment, marked his features, and his dress,

which was in the extreme of fashion; while Tom, turning to one of the

Waiters, enquired for his friend Sparkle.

“He has not been here since yesterday morning!” said the Waiter.

“I have been waiting for him these two hours!” exclaimed the young Sprig

of Fashion, laying down the newspaper almost at the same moment, “and

must wait till he comes--Ah! Mr. Dashall, how d'ye do?---very glad to

see you--left all well in the country, I hope!--Mr. Sparkle was to have

met me this morning at eleven precisely, I should judge he is gone into

the country.”

“It must have been late last night, then,” said Dashall, ~70~~“for he

left us about half-past ten, and promised also to meet us again this

morning at eleven; I can't think what can have become of him--but come,”

said he, taking Bob by the arm, “we must keep moving--Good morning--good

morning.” And thus saying, walked directly out of the house, turning to

the right again towards Piccadilly.

“There is a remark made, I think by Goldsmith,” said Tom, “that one half

of the world don't know how the other half lives; and the man I spoke to

in the coffee-room, whose name I am unacquainted with, though his person

is recognized by almost every body, while his true character, residence,

and means of subsistence, remain completely in obscurity, from what I

have seen of him, I judge is what may be termed a _hanger on_.”

“A hanger on,” said Bob--“what can that mean? I took him for a man of

property and high birth--but I saw you take so little notice of him.”

“Ah! my good fellow, I have already cautioned you not to be duped by

appearances. A _hanger on_ is a sort of sycophant, or toad-eater,

and, in the coffee-houses and hotels of London, many such are to be

found--men who can _spin out a long yarn_, tell a tough story, and

tip you _a rum chant_--who invite themselves by a freedom of address

bordering on impudence to the tables and the parties of persons they

know, by pretending to call in by mere accident, just at the appointed

time: by assuming great confidence, great haste, little appetite, and

much business; but, at the same time, requiring but little pressure to

forego them all for the pleasure of the company present. What he

can have to do with Sparkle I am at a loss to conceive; but he is an

insinuating and an intriguing sort of fellow, whom I by no means like,

so I cut him.”

Bob did not exactly understand the meaning of the word cut, and

therefore begged his Cousin to explain.

“The cut,” said Tom, “is a fashionable word for getting rid, by rude

or any means, of any person whose company is not agreeable. The art of

_cutting_ is reduced to a system in London; and an explanatory treatise

has been written on the subject for the edification of the natives.{1}

But I am so bewildered to think what can have detained Sparkle, and

deprived us of his company, that I scarcely know how to think for a

moment on any other subject at present.”

1 Vide a small volume entitled “The Cutter.”

~71~~“It is somewhat strange!” cried Bob, “that he was not with you this

morning.”

“There is some mystery in it,” said Tom, “which time alone can unravel;

but however, we will not be deprived of our intended ramble.” At this

moment they entered Piccadilly, and were crossing the road in their way

to St. James's Street, when Dashall nodded to a gentleman passing by on

the opposite side, and received a sort of half bow in return. “That,”

said Tom, “is a curious fellow, and a devilish clever fellow too--for

although he has but one arm, he is a man of science.”

“In what way?” enquired Bob.

“He is a pugilist,” said Tom--“one of those courageous gentlemen who can

queer the daylights, tap the claret, prevent telling fibs, and pop the

noddle into chancery; and a devilish good hand he is, I can assure you,

among those who

----“can combat with ferocious strife,

And beat an eye out, or thump out a life;

Can bang the ribs in, or bruise out the brains,

And die, like noble blockheads, for their pains.”

[Illustration: page71 Fives Court]

“Having but one arm, of course he is unable to figure in the

ring--though he attends the mills, and is a constant visitor at the

Fives Court exhibitions, and generally appears _a la Belcher_. He prides

himself upon flooring a novice, and hits devilish hard with the glove. I

have had some lessons from this amateur of the old English science, and

felt the force of his fist; but it is a very customary thing to commence

in a friendly way, till the knowing one finds an opportunity which he

cannot resist, of shewing the superiority he possesses. So it was with

Harry and me, when he put on his glove. I use the singular number,

because he has but one hand whereon to place a glove withal. Come, said

he, it shall only be a little innocent spar. I also put on a glove,

for it would not be fair to attack a one-armed man with two, and no one

ought to take the odds in combat. To it we went, and I shewed _first

blood_, for he tapped _the claret_ in no time.

“Neat _milling we had_, what with _clouts on the nob_, Home hits in

the _bread-basket_, clicks in the gob, And plumps in the daylights, a

prettier treat Between two _Johnny Raws_ 'tis not easy to meet.”

~72~~“I profited however by Harry's lessons, and after a short time was

enabled to return the compliment with interest, by sewing up one of his

_glimmers_.

“This is St. James's Street,” continued he, as they turned the corner

rather short; in doing which, somewhat animated by the description he

had just been giving, Tom's foot caught the toe of a gentleman, who

was mincing along the pathway with all the care and precision of a

dancing-master, which had the effect of bringing him to the ground in an

instant as effectually as a blow from one of the fancy. Tom, who had

no intention of giving offence wantonly, apologized for the misfortune,

by--“I beg pardon, Sir,” while Bob, who perceived the poor creature was

unable to rise again, and apprehending some broken bones, assisted him

to regain his erect position. The poor animal, or nondescript, yclept

Dandy, however had only been prevented the exercise of its limbs by the

stiffness of certain appendages, without which its person could not be

complete--the _stays_, lined with whalebone, were the obstacles to its

rising. Being however placed in its natural position, he began in an

affected blustering tone of voice to complain that it was d----d odd

a gentleman could not walk along the streets without being incommoded

by puppies--pulled out his quizzing glass, and surveyed our heroes from

head to foot--then taking from his pocket a smelling bottle, which, by

application to the nose, appeared to revive him, Tom declared he was

sorry for the accident, had no intention, and hoped he was not hurt.

This, however, did not appear to satisfy the offended Dandy, who turned

upon his heel muttering to himself the necessity there was of preventing

drunken fellows from rambling the streets to the annoyance of sober and

genteel people in the day-time.

Dashall, who overheard the substance of his ejaculation, broke from the

arm of Bob, and stepping after him without ceremony, by a sudden wheel

placed himself in the front of him, so as to impede his progress a

second time; a circumstance which filled Mr. Fribble with additional

alarm, and his agitation became visibly' depicted on his countenance.

“What do you mean?” cried Dashall, with indignation, taking the

imputation of drunkenness at that early hour in dudgeon. “Who, and

what are you, ~73~~Sir?{1} Explain instantly, or by the honour of a

gentleman, I'll chastise this insolence.”

1 “What are you?” is a formidable question to a dandy of the

present day, for

“Dandy's a gender of the doubtful kind;

A something, nothing, not to be defined;

'Twould puzzle worlds its sex to ascertain,

So very empty, and so very vain.”

It is a fact that the following examination of three of

these non-descripts took place at Bow Street a very short

time back, in consequence of a nocturnal fracas. The report

was thus given:

“Three young sprigs of fashion, in full dress, somewhat

damaged and discoloured by a night's lodging in the cell of

a watch-house, were yesterday brought before Mr. Birnie,

charged with disorderly conduct in the streets, and with

beating a watchman named Lloyd.

“Lloyd stated that his beat was near the Piazza, and at a

very late hour on Thursday night, the three defendants came

through Covent Garden, singing, and conducting themselves in

the most riotous manner possible. They were running, and

were followed by three others, all in a most uproarious

state of intoxication, and he thought proper to stop them;

upon which he was _floored san-ceremonie_, and when he

recovered his legs, he was again struck, and called '_a b----y

Charley_,' and other ungenteel names. He called for

the assistance of some of his brethren, and the defendants

were with some trouble taken to the watch-house. They were

very jolly on the way, and when lodged in durance, amused

themselves with abusing the Constable of the night, and took

especial care that no one within hearing of the watch-house

should get a wink of sleep for the remainder of the night.

Mr. Birnie.--“Well young gentleman, what have you to say to

this?” The one who undertook to be spokesman, threw himself

in the most familiar manner possible across the table, and

having fixed himself perfectly at his ease, he said, “The

fact was, they had been dining at a tavern, and were rather

drunk, and on their way through the Piazza, they endeavoured

by running away to give the slip to their three companions,

who were still worse than themselves. The others, however

called out Stop thief! and the watchman stopped them;

whereat they naturally felt irritated, and certainly gave

the watchman a bit of a thrashing.”

Mr. Birnie.--“How was he to know you were not the thieves?

He did quite right to stop you, and I am very glad he has

brought you here--Pray, Sir, what are you?” Defendant.--“I

am nothing, Sir.” Mr. Birnie (to another).--“And what are

you?” Defendant.--“Why, Sir, I am--I am, Sir, nothing.” Mr.

Birnie.--“Well, this is very fine. Pray, Sir, (turning to

the third, who stood twirling his hat) will you do me the

favour to tell what you are?”

This gentleman answered in the same way. “I am, as my

friends observed, nothing.”

Mr. Birnie.--“Well, gentlemen, I must endeavour to make

something of you. Here, gaoler, let them he locked up, and I

shall not part with them until I have some better account of

their occupations.”

We have heard it asserted, that Nine tailors make a man. How

many Dandies, professing to be Nothing, may be required to

accomplish the proposed intention of making Something, may

(perhaps by this time) be discovered by the worthy

Magistrate. We however suspect he has had severe work of it.

~74~~“Leave me alone,” exclaimed the almost petrified Dandy.

“Not till you have given me the satisfaction I have a right to demand,”

cried Tom. “I insist upon an explanation and apology--or demand your

card--who are you, Sir? That's my address,” instantly handing him a

card. “I am not to be played with, nor will I suffer your escape, after

the insulting manner in which you have spoken, with impunity.”

Though not prepared for such a rencontre, the Dandy, who now perceived

the inflexible temper of Tom's mind--and a crowd of people gathering

round him--determined at least to put on as much of the character of a

man as possible, and fumbled in his pocket for a card; at length finding

one, he slipped it into Tom's hand. “Oh, Sir,” said he, “if that's the

case, I'm your man, _demmee_,--how, when, or where you please, 'pon

honor.” Then beckoning to a hackney coach, he hobbled to the door,

and was pushed in by coachee, who, immediately mounted the box and

flourishing his whip, soon rescued him from his perilous situation, and

the jeers of the surrounding multitude.

Tom, who in the bustle of the crowd had slipped the card of his

antagonist into his pocket, now took Bob's arm, and they pursued their

way down St. James's Street, and could not help laughing at the affair:

but Tallyho, who had a great aversion to duelling, and was thinking of

the consequences, bit his lips, and expressed his sorrow at what

had occurred; he ascribed the hasty imputation of drunkenness to the

irritating effects of the poor creature's accident, and expressed his

hope that his cousin would take no further notice of it. Tom, however,

on the other ~75~~hand, ridiculed Bob's fears--told him it was a point

of honour not to suffer an insult in the street from any man--nor would

he--besides, the charge of drunkenness from such a thing as that, is not

to be borne. “D----n it, man, drunkenness in the early part of the day

is a thing I abhor, it is at all times what I would avoid if possible,

but at night there may be many apologies for it; nay in some cases even

to avoid it is impossible. The pleasures of society are enhanced

by it--the joys of love are increased by the circulation of the

glass--harmony, conviviality and friendship are produced by it--though I

am no advocate for inebriety, and detest the idea of the beast--

“Who clouds his reason by the light of day,

And falls to drink, an early and an easy prey.”

“Well,” said Bob, “I cannot help thinking this poor fellow, who has

already betrayed his fears, will be inclined to make any apology for his

rudeness to-morrow.”

“If he does not,” said Tom, “I'll wing him, to a certainty--a

jackanapes--a puppy--a man-milliner; perhaps a thing of shreds and

patches--he shall not go unpunished, I promise you; so come along, we

will just step in here, and I'll dispatch this business at once: I'll

write a challenge, and then it will be off my hands.” And so saying,

they entered a Coffee-house, where, calling for pen, ink and paper, Tom

immediately began his epistle, shrewdly hinting to his Cousin, that he

expected he would act as his Second. “It will be a fine opportunity for

introducing your name to the gay world--the newspapers will record your

name as a man of ton. Let us see now how it will appear:--On ---- last,

the Honourable Tom Dashall, attended by his Cousin, Robert Tallyho, Esq.

of Belleville Hall, met--ah, by the bye, let us see who he is,” here he

felt in his pocket for the card.

Bob, however, declared his wish to decline obtaining popularity by being

present upon such an occasion, and suggested the idea of his calling

upon the offender, and endeavouring to effect an amicable arrangement

between them.

“Hallo!” exclaimed Tom with surprise, as he drew the card from his

pocket, and threw it on the table--“Ha, ha, ha,--look at that.”

Tallyho looked at the card without understanding it. “What does it

mean?” said he.

~76~~“Mean,” replied Tom, “why it is a Pawnbroker's duplicate for a

Hunting Watch, deposited with his uncle this morning in St. Martin's

Lane, for two pounds--laughable enough--well, you may dismiss your fears

for the present; but I'll try if I can't find my man by this means--if

he is worth finding--at all events we have found a watch.”

Bob now joined in the laugh, and, having satisfied the Waiter, they

sallied forth again.

Just as they left the Coffee-house, “Do you see that Gentleman in the

blue great coat, arm in arm with another? that is no other than the

----. You would scarcely conceive, by his present appearance, that

he has commanded armies, and led them on to victory; and that having

retired under the shade of his laurels, he is withering them away,

leaf by leaf, by attendance at the _hells_{1} of the metropolis; his

unconquerable spirit still actuating him in his hours of relaxation. It

is said that the immense sum awarded to him for his prowess in war,

has been so materially reduced by his inordinate passion for play, that

although he appears at Court, and is a favourite, the demon Poverty

stares him in the face. But this is a vile world, and half one hears is

not to be believed. He is certainly extravagant, fond of women, and fond

of wine; but all these foibles are overshadowed with so much glory as

scarcely to remain perceptible. Here is the Palace,” said Tom, directing

his Cousin's attention to the bottom of the street.

Bob was evidently struck at this piece of information, as he could

discover no mark of grandeur in its appearance to entitle it to the

dignity of a royal residence.

“It is true,” said Tom, “the outside appearance is not much in its

favour; but it is venerable for its antiquity, and for its being till

lately the place at which the Kings of this happy Island have held their

Courts. On the site of that palace originally stood an hospital,

founded before the conquest, for fourteen leprous females, to whom eight

brethren were afterwards added, to assist in the performance of divine

service.”

“Very necessary,” said Bob, “and yet scarcely sufficient.”

1 Hells--The abode or resort of black-legs or gamblers,

where they assemble to commit their depredations on the

unwary. But of these we shall have occasion to enlarge

elsewhere.

~77~~“You seem to quiz this Palace, and are inclined to indulge your wit

upon old age. In 1532, it was surrendered to Henry viii. and he erected

the present Palace, and enclosed St. James's Park, to serve as a place

of amusement and exercise, both to this Palace and Whitehall. But it

does not appear to have been the Court of the English Sovereigns, during

their residence in town, till the reign of Queen Ann, from which time it

has been uniformly used as such.

“It is built of brick; and that part which contains the state

apartments, being only one story high, gives it a regular appearance

outside. The State-rooms are commodious and handsome, although there is

nothing very superb or grand in the decorations or furniture.

“The entrance to these rooms is by a stair-case which opens into the

principal court, which you now see. At the top of the stair-case are

two rooms; one on the left, called the Queen's, and the other the King's

Guard-room, leading to the State-apartments. Immediately beyond the

King's Guard-room is the Presence-chamber, which contains a canopy,

and is hung with tapestry; and which is now used as a passage to the

principal rooms.

“There is a suite of five rooms opening into each other successively,

fronting the Park. The Presence-chamber opens into the centre room,

which is denominated the Privy-chamber, in which is a canopy of

flowered-crimson velvet, generally made use of for the King to receive

the Quakers.

“On the right are two drawing-rooms, one within the other. At the upper

end of the further one, is a throne with a splendid canopy, on which the

Kings have been accustomed to receive certain addresses. This is called

the Grand Drawing-room, and is used by the King and Queen on certain

state occasions, the nearer room being appropriated as a kind of

ante-chamber, in which the nobility, &c. are permitted to remain while

their Majesties are present in the further room, and is furnished with

stools, sofas, &c. for the purpose. There are two levee-rooms on the

left of the privy-chamber, on entering from the King's guard-room and

presence-chamber, the nearer one serving as an ante-chamber to the

other. They were all of them, formerly, meanly furnished, but at the

time of the marriage of our present King, they were elegantly fitted

up. The walls are now covered with tapestry, very beautiful, and of rich

colours--tapestry which, although it ~73~~was made for Charles II. had

never been used, having by some accident lain unnoticed in a chest, till

it was discovered a short time before the marriage of the Prince.

“The canopy of the throne was made for the late-Queen's birth-day, the

first which happened after the union of Great Britain and Ireland. It

is made of crimson velvet, with very broad gold lace, embroidered with

crowns set with fine and rich pearls. The shamrock, emblematical of the

Irish nation, forms a part of the decorations of the British crown, and

is executed with great taste and accuracy.

“The grand drawing-room contains a large, magnificent chandelier of

silver, gilt, but I believe it has not been lighted for some years; and

in the grand levee-room is a very noble bed, the furniture of which is

of Spitalfields manufacture, in crimson velvet. It was first put up with

the tapestry, on the marriage of the present King, then Prince of Wales.

“It is upon the whole an irregular building, chiefly consisting of

several courts and alleys, which lead into the Park. This, however, is

the age of improvement, and it is said that the Palace will shortly

be pulled down, and in the front of St. James's Street a magnificent

triumphal arch is to be erected, to commemorate the glorious victories

of the late war, and to form a grand entrance to the Park.

“The Duke of York, the Duke of Clarence, the King's servants, and many

other dignified persons, live in the Stable-yard.”

“In the Stable-yard!” said Bob, “dignified persons reside in a

Stable-yard, you astonish me!”

“It is quite true,” said Tom, “and remember it is the Stable-yard of a

King.”

“I forgot that circumstance,” said Bob, “and that circumstances alter

cases. But whose carriage is this driving with so much rapidity?”

“That is His Highness the Duke of York, most likely going to pay a visit

to his royal brother, the King, who resides in a Palace a little further

on: which will be in our way, for it is yet too early to see much in

the Park: so let us proceed, I am anxious to make some inquiry about

my antagonist, and therefore mean to take St. Martin's Lane as we go

along.”

With this they pursued their way along Pall Mall. The rapidity of Tom's

movements however afforded little opportunity for observation or remark,

till they ~79~~arrived opposite Carlton House, when he called his

Cousin's attention to the elegance of the new streets opposite to it.

“That,” said he, “is Waterloo Place, which, as well as the memorable

battle after which it is named, has already cost the nation an immense

sum of money, and must cost much more before the proposed improvements

are completed: it is however, the most elegant street in London. The

want of uniformity of the buildings has a striking effect, and gives it

the appearance of a number of palaces. In the time of Queen Elizabeth

there were no such places as Pall Mall, St. James's-street, Piccadilly,

nor any of the streets or fine squares in this part of the town. That

building at the farther end is now the British Fire-office, and has a

pleasing effect at this distance. The cupola on the left belongs to a

chapel, the interior of which for elegant simplicity is unrivalled. To

the left of the centre building is a Circus, and a serpentine street,

not yet finished, which runs to Swallow Street, and thence directly

to Oxford Road, where another circus is forming, and is intended to

communicate with Portland Place; by which means a line of street,

composed of all new buildings, will be completed. Of this dull looking

place (turning to Carlton House) although it is the town-residence

of our King, I shall say nothing at present, as I intend devoting a

morning, along with you, to its inspection. The exterior has not the

most lively appearance, but the interior is magnificent.”--During this

conversation they had kept moving gently on.

[Illustration: page79 The Kings Levee]

Bob was charmed with the view down Waterloo Place.

“That,” said his Cousin, pointing to the Arcade at the opposite corner

of Pall Mall, “is the Italian Opera-house, which has recently assumed

its present superb appearance, and may be ranked among the finest

buildings in London. It is devoted to the performance of Italian operas

and French ballets, is generally open from December to July, and

is attended by the most distinguished and fashionable persons. The

improvements in this part are great. That church, which you see in the

distance over the tops of the houses, is St. Martin's in the fields.”

“In the fields,” inquired Bob; “what then, are we come to the end of the

town?”

~80~~“Ha! ha! ha!” cried Tom--“the end--no, no,--I was going to say

there is no end to it--no, we have not reached any thing like the

centre.”

“_Blood an owns, boderation and blarney_,” (said an Irishman, at that

moment passing them with a hod of mortar on his shoulder, towards the

new buildings, and leaving an ornamental patch as he went along on Bob's

shoulder) “but I'll be a'ter _tipping turnups_{l} to any b----dy

rogue that's tip to saying--_Black's the white of the blue part of Pat

Murphy's eye_; and for that there matter,” dropping the hod of mortar

almost on their toes at the same time, and turning round to Bob--“By the

powers! I ax the Jontleman's pardon--tho' he's not the first Jontleman

that has carried mortar--where is that _big, bully-faced blackguard_

that I'm looking after?” During this he brushed the mortar off Tallyho's

coat with a snap of his fingers, regardless of where or on whom he

distributed it.

The offender, it seemed, had taken flight while Pat was apologizing, and

was no where to be found.

“Why what's the matter?” inquired Tom; “you seem in a passion.”

“Och! not in the least bit, your honour! I'm only in a d----d rage. By

the mug of my mother--arn't it a great shame that a Jontleman of

Ireland can't walk the streets of London without having _poratees and

butter-milk_ throw'd in his gums?”--Hitching up the waistband of his

breeches--“It won't do at all at all for Pat: its a reflection on my own

native land, where--

“Is hospitality,

All reality,

No formality

There you ever see;

The free and easy

Would so amaze ye,

You'd think us all crazy,

For dull we never be.”

These lines sung with an Irish accent, to the tune of “Morgan Rattler,”

accompanied with a snapping of his fingers, and concluded with a

something in imitation of

1 _Tipping Turnups_--This is a phrase made use of among the

_prigging_ fraternity, to signify a turn-up--which is to

knock down.

~81~~an Irish jilt, were altogether so truly characteristic of the

nation to which he belonged, as to afford our Heroes considerable

amusement. Tom threw him a half-crown, which he picked up with more

haste than he had thrown down the mortar in his rage.

“Long life and good luck to the Jontleman!” said Pat. “Sure enough,

I won't be after drinking health and success to your Honour's pretty

picture, and the devil pitch into his own cabin the fellow that would

be after picking a hole or clapping a dirty patch on the coat of St.

Patrick--whiskey for ever, your Honour, huzza--

“A drop of good whiskey

Would make a man frisky.”

By this time a crowd was gathering round them, and Tom cautioned Bob in

a whisper to beware of his pockets. This piece of advice however came

too late, for his _blue bird's eye wipe_{l} had taken flight.

“What,” said Bob, “is this done in open day?” “Are you all right and

tight elsewhere?” said Tom--“if you are, toddle on and say nothing about

it.--Open day!” continued he, “aye, the system of _frigging_{2}

1 _Blue bird's eye wipe_--A blue pocket handkerchief with

white spots.

2 A cant term for all sorts of thieving. The Life of the

celebrated George Barrington, of Old Bailey notoriety, is

admirably illustrative of this art; which by a more recent

development of Hardy Vaux, appears to be almost reduced to

a system, notwithstanding the wholesomeness of our laws and

the vigilance of our police in their administration. However

incredible it may appear, such is the force of habit and

association, the latter, notwithstanding he was detected and

transported, contrived to continue his depredations during

his captivity, returned, at the expiration of his term, to

his native land and his old pursuits, was transported a

second time, suffered floggings and imprison-ments, without

correcting what cannot but be termed the vicious

propensities of his nature. He generally spent his mornings

in visiting the shops of jewellers, watch-makers,

pawnbrokers, &c. depending upon his address and appearance,

and determining to make the whole circuit of the metropolis

and not to omit a single shop in either of those branches.

This scheme he actually executed so fully, that he believes

he did not leave ten untried in London; for he made a point

of commencing early every day, and went regularly through

it, taking both sides of the way. His practice on entering a

shop was to request to look at gold seals, chains,

brooches, rings, or any other small articles of value,

and while examining them, and looking the shopkeeper in the

face, he contrived by sleight of hand to conceal two or

three, sometimes more, as opportunities offered, in the

sleeve of his coat, which was purposely made wide. In this

practice he succeeded to a very great extent, and in the

course of his career was never once detected in the fact,

though on two or three occa-sions so much suspicion arose

that he was obliged to exert all his effrontery, and to use

very high language, in order, as the cant phrase is, to

bounce the tradesman out of it; his fashionable appearance,

and affected anger at his insinuations, always had the

effect of inducing an apology; and in many such cases he has

actually carried away the spoil, notwithstanding what passed

between them, and even gone so far as to visit the same shop

again a second and a third time with as good success as at

first. This, with his nightly attendance at the Theatres and

places of public resort, where he picked pockets of watches,

snuff-boxes, &c. was for a length of time the sole business

of his life. He was however secured, after secreting himself

for a time, convicted, and is now transported for life--as

he conceives, sold by another cele-brated Prig, whose real

name was Bill White, but better known by the title of Conky

Beau.

~82~~will be acted on sometimes by the very party you are speaking

to--the expertness with which it is done is almost beyond belief.”

Bob having ascertained that his handkerchief was the extent of his loss,

they pursued their way towards Charing Cross.

“A line of street is intended,” continued Tom, “to be made from the

Opera House to terminate with that church; and here is the King's Mews,

which is now turned into barracks.”

“Stop thief! Stop thief!” was at this moment vociferated in their ears

by a variety of voices, and turning round, they perceived a well-dressed

man at full speed, followed pretty closely by a concourse of people. In

a moment the whole neighbourhood appeared to be in alarm. The up-stairs

windows were crowded with females--the tradesmen were at their

shop-doors--the passengers were huddled together in groups, inquiring of

each other--“What is the matter?--who is it?--which is him?--what has he

done?” while the pursuers were increasing in numbers as they went. The

bustle of the scene was new to Bob--Charing Cross and its vicinity was

all in motion.

“Come,” said Tom, “let us see the end of this--they are sure to _nab_{l}

my gentleman before he gets much

1 _Nabbed or nibbled_--Secured or taken.

~83~~farther, so let us _brush_{1} on.” Then pulling his Cousin by the

arm, they moved forward to the scene of action.

As they approached St. Martin's Lane, the gathering of the crowd, which

was now immense, indicated to Tom a capture.

“Button up,” said he, “and let us see what's the matter.”

“_Arrah be easy_” cried a voice which they instantly recognized to be no

other than Pat Murphy's. “I'll hold you, my dear, till the night after

Doomsday, though I can't tell what day of the year that is. Where's the

man wid the _gould-laced skull-cap_? Sure enough I tought I'd be up wi'

you, and so now you see I'm down upon you.”

At this moment a Street-keeper made way through the crowd, and Tom

and Bob keeping close in his rear, came directly up to the principal

performers in this interesting scene, and found honest Pat Murphy

holding the man by his collar, while he was twisting and writhing to get

released from the strong and determined grasp of the athletic Hibernian.

Pat no sooner saw our Heroes, than he burst out with a lusty “Arroo!

arroo! there's the sweet-looking jontleman that's been robbed by a dirty

_spalpeen_ that's not worth the tail of a rotten red-herring. I'll give

charge of dis here pick'd bladebone of a dead donkey that walks about in

God's own daylight, dirting his fingers wid what don't belong to him at

all at all. So sure as the devil's in his own house, and that's London,

you've had your pocket pick'd, my darling, and that's news well worth

hearing”--addressing himself to Dashall.

By this harangue it was pretty clearly understood that Murphy had been

in pursuit of the pickpocket, and Tom immediately gave charge.

The man, however, continued to declare he was not the right

person--“That, so help him G----d, the Irishman had got the wrong

bull by the tail--that he was a b----dy _snitch_{2} and that he would

_sarve him out_{3}--that he wished

1 _Brush_--Be off.

2 _Snitch_--A term made use of by the light-fingered tribe,

to signify an informer, by whom they have been impeached or

betrayed--So a person who turns king's evidence against his

accomplices is called a Snitch.

3 _Serve him out_--To punish, or be revenged upon any person

for any real or supposed injury.

~84~~he might meet him out of St. Giles's, and he would _wake_{ 1} him

with an _Irish howl_.”

1 Wake with an Irish howl--An Irish Wake, which is no

unfrequent occurrence in the neighbourhood of St. Giles's

and Saffron Hill, is one of the most comically serious

ceremonies which can well be conceived, and certainly

baffles all powers of description. It is, however,

considered indispensable to wake the body of a de-ceased

native of the sister kingdom, which is, by a sort of mock

lying in state, to which all the friends, relatives, and

fellow countrymen and women, of the dead person, are

indiscriminately admitted; and among the low Irish this duty

is frequently performed in a cellar, upon which occasions

the motley group of assembled Hibernians would form a

subject for the pencil of the most able satirist.

Upon one of these occasions, when Murtoch Mulrooney, who had

suffered the sentence of the law by the common hangman, for

a footpad robbery, an Englishman was induced by a friend of

the deceased to accompany him, and has left on record the

following account of his entertainment:--

“When we had descended (says he) about a dozen steps, we

found ourselves in a subterraneous region, but fortunately

not uninhabited. On the right sat three old bawds, drinking

whiskey and smoking tobacco out of pipes about two inches

long, (by which means, I conceive, their noses had become

red,) and swearing and blasting between each puff. I was

immediately saluted by one of the most sober of the ladies,

and invited to take a glass of the enlivening nectar, and

led to the bed exactly opposite the door, where Murtoch was

laid out, and begged to pray for the repose of his precious

shoul. This, however, I declined, alleging that as the

parsons were paid for praying, it was their proper business.

At this moment a coarse female voice exclaimed, in a sort of

yell or Irish howl, 'Arrah! by Jasus, and why did you die,

honey?--Sure enough it was not for the want of milk, meal,

or tatoes.'

“In a remote corner of the room, or rather cellar, sat three

draymen, five of his majesty's body guards, four sailors,

six haymakers, eight chairmen, and six evidence makers,

together with three bailiffs' followers, who came by turns

to view the body, and take a drop of the _cratur_ to drink

repose to the shoul of their countryman; and to complete the

group, they were at-tended by the journeyman Jack Ketch. The

noise and confusion were almost stupefying--there were

praying--swearing--crying-howling--smoking--and drinking.

“At the head of the bed where the remains of Murtoch were

laid, was the picture of the Virgin Mary on one side, and

that of St. Patrick on the other; and at the feet was

depicted the devil and some of his angels, with the blood

running down their backs, from the flagellations which they

had received from the disciples of Ketigern. Whether the

blue devils were flying around or not, I could not exactly

discover, but the whiskey and _blue ruin_ were evidently

powerful in their effects.

“One was swearing--a second counting his beads--a

third descanting on the good qualities of his departed

friend, and about to try those of the whiskey--a fourth

evacuating that load with which he had already overloaded

himself--a fifth, declaring he could carry a fare, hear

mass, knock down a member of parliament, murder a peace

officer, and after all receive a pension: and while the

priest was making an assignation with a sprightly female

sprig of Shelalah, another was jonteelly picking his pocket.

I had seen enough, and having no desire to continue in such

company, made my escape with as much speed as I could from

this animated group of persons, assembled as they were upon

so solemn an occasion.”

~85~~With conversation of this kind, the party were amused up St.

Martin's lane, and on the remainder of the road to Bow-street, followed

by many persons, some of whom pretended to have seen a part of the

proceedings, and promised to give their evidence before the magistrate,

who was then sitting.

On arriving in Bow Street, they entered the Brown Bear,{1} a

public-house, much frequented by the officers, and in which is a

strong-room for the safe custody of prisoners, where they were shewn

into a dark back-parlour, as they termed it, and the officer proceeded

to search the man in custody, when lo and behold! the handkerchief was

not to be found about him.

Pat d----d the devil and all his works--swore “by the fiery furnace of

Beelzebub, and that's the devil's own bed-chamber, that was the man

that nibbled the Jontleman's _dive_,{2} and must have _ding'd away the

wipe_,{3} or else what should he _bolt_{4} for?--that he was up to the

_rum slum_,{5}

1 A former landlord of the house facetiously christened it

the Russian Hotel, and had the words painted under the sign

of Bruin.

2 _Nibbled the Jontleman's dive_--Picked the gentleman's

pocket.

3 _Ding'd away the wipe_--Passed away the handkerchief to

another, to escape detection. This is a very common practice

in London: two or three in a party will be near, without

appearing to have the least knowledge of, or connexion with

each other, and the moment a depredation is committed by

one, he transfers the property to one of his pals, by whom

it is conveyed perhaps to the third, who decamps with it to

some receiver, who will immediately advance money upon it;

while, if any suspicion should fall upon the first, the

second will perhaps busy himself in his endeavours to secure

the offender, well knowing no proof of possession can be

brought against him.

4 _Bolt_--Run away; try to make an escape.

5 _Rum slum_--Gammon--queer talk or action, in which some

fraudulent intentions are discoverable or suspected.

~86~~and down upon the _kiddies_{1}--and sure enough you're _boned,_{2}

my dear boy.”

Some of the officers came in, and appeared to know the prisoner well,

as if they had been acquainted with each other upon former official

business; but as the lost property was not found upon him, it was the

general opinion that nothing could be done, and the accused began to

exercise his wit upon Murphy, which roused Pat's blood:

“For the least thing, you know, makes an Irishman roar.”

At length, upon charging him with having been caught _blue-pigeon

flying,_{3} Pat gave him the lie in his teeth--swore he'd fight him for

all the _blunt_{4} he had about him, “which to be sure,” said he, “is

but a sweet pretty half-a-crown, and be d----d to you--good luck

to it! Here goes,” throwing the half-crown upon the floor, which the

prisoner attempted to pick up, but was prevented by Pat's stamping his

foot upon it, while he was _doffing his jacket_,{5} exclaiming--

“Arrah, be after putting your dirty fingers in your pocket, and don't

spoil the King's picture by touching it--devil burn me, but I'll _mill

your mug to muffin dust_{6} before I'll give up that beautiful looking

bit; so tip us your mauley,{7} and no more blarney.”

1 Down upon the Kiddies--To understand the arts and

manouvres of thieves and sharpers.

2 Boned--Taken or secured.

s Blue pigeon flying--The practice of stealing lead from

houses, churches, or other buildings. A species of

depredation very prevalent in London and its vicinity, and

which is but too much encouraged by the readiness with which

it can be disposed of to the plumbers in general.

4 Blunt--A flash term for money.

5 Doffing his Jacket--Taking off his jacket.

6 Mill your mug to muffin dust--The peculiarity of the Irish

character for overstrained metaphor, may perhaps, in some

degree, account for the Hibernian's idea of beating his head

to flour, though he was afterwards inclined to commence his

operations in the true style and character of the prize

ring, where

“Men shake hands before they box, Then give each other

plaguy knocks, With all the love and kindness of a brother.”

7 Tip us your mauley--Give me your hand. Honour is so sacred

a thing with the Irish, that the rapid transition from a

violent expression to the point of honour, is no uncommon

thing amongst them; and in this instance it is quite clear

that although he meant to mill the mug of his opponent to

muffin dust, he had a notion of the thing, and intended to

do it in an honourable way.

~87~~During this conversation, the spectators, who were numerous, were

employed in endeavouring to pacify the indignant Hibernian, who by this

time had buffid it, or, in other words, _peeled in prime twig_,{1} for

a regular _turn to._{2} All was noise and confusion, when a new group

of persons entered the room--another capture had been made, and another

charge given. It was however with some difficulty that honest Pat Murphy

was prevailed upon to remain a little quiet, while one of the officers

beckoned Dashall out of the room, and gave him to understand that the

man in custody, just brought in, was a well-known _pal_{3} of the one

first suspected, though they took not the least notice of each other

upon meeting. In the mean time, another officer in the room had been

searching the person of the last captured, from whose bosom he drew the

identical handkerchief of Bob; and the Irishman recollected seeing him

in the crowd opposite the Opera House.

This cleared up the mystery in some degree, though the two culprits

affected a total ignorance of each other. The property of the person

who had given the last charge was also discovered, and it was deemed

absolutely necessary to take them before the Magistrate. But as some

new incidents will arise on their introduction to the office, we shall

reserve them for the next Chapter.

1 Buff'd it, or peeled in prime twig--Stripped to the skin

in good order. The expressions are well known, and

frequently in use, among the sporting characters and lovers

of the fancy.

2 Turn to, or set to--The commencement of a battle.

3 Pal--A partner or confederate.

CHAPTER VIII

Houses, churches, mixt together,

Streets unpleasant in all weather;

Prisons, palaces contiguous,

Gates, a bridge--the Thames irriguous;

Gaudy things, enough to tempt ye,

Showy outsides, insides empty;

Bubbles, trades, mechanic arts,

Coaches, wheelbarrows, and carts;

Warrants, bailiffs, bills unpaid,

Lords of laundresses afraid;

Rogues, that nightly rob and shoot men,

Hangmen, aldermen, and footmen;

Lawyers, poets, priests, physicians,

Noble, simple, all conditions;

Worth beneath a thread-bare cover,

Villainy bedaubed all over;

Women, black, red, fair, and grey,

Prudes, and such as never pray;

Handsome, ugly, noisy still,

Some that will not, some that will;

Many a beau without a shilling,

Many a widow not unwilling;

Many a bargain, if you strike it:--

This is London--How d'ye like it?

~88~~ON entering the Public Office, Bow-street, we must leave our

readers to guess at the surprise and astonishment with which the Hon.

Tom Dashall and his Cousin beheld their lost friend, Charles Sparkle,

who it appeared had been kindly accommodated with a lodging gratis in

a neighbouring watch-house, not, as it may readily be supposed, exactly

suitable to his taste or inclination. Nor was wonder less excited in the

mind of Sparkle at this unexpected meeting, as unlooked for as it

was fortunate to all parties. There was however no opportunity at the

present moment for an explanation, as the worthy Magistrate immediately

proceeded to an investigation of the case just brought before him, upon

which there was no difficulty in deciding. The charge was made, the

handkerchief sworn to, and the men, who ~89~~were well known as old

hands upon the town, committed for trial. The most remarkable feature in

the examination being the evidence of Pat Murphy, who by this time

had recollected that the man who was taken with the property about his

person, was the very identical aggressor who had offended him while the

hod of mortar was on his shoulder, before the conversation commenced

between himself and Tom opposite the Opera-house.

“Sure enough, your Honour,” said he, “its a true bill. I'm an Irishman,

and I don't care who knows it--I don't fight under false colours, but

love the land of potatoes, and honour St. Patrick. That there man with

the _blue toggery_{1} tipp'd me a bit of blarney, what did not suit my

stomach. I dropp'd my load, which he took for an order to quit, and so

_mizzled_{2} out of my way, or by the big bull of Ballynafad, I'd have

powdered his wig with brick-dust, and bothered his bread-basket with a

little human kindness in the shape of an Irishman's fist; and then that

there other dirty end of a shelalah, while the Jontleman--long life to

your Honour, (bowing to Tom Dashall)--was houlding a bit of conversation

with Pat Murphy, _grabb'd_{3} his pocket-handkerchief, and was after

shewing a leg,{4} when a little boy that kept his oglers upon 'em, let

me into the secret, and let the cat out of the bag by bawling--Stop

thief! He darted off like a cow at the sound of the bagpipes, and I

boulted a'ter him like a good'un; so when I came up to him, Down you go,

says I, and down he was; and that's all I know about the matter.”

As the prisoners were being taken out of court, the Hibernian followed

them. “Arrah,” said he, “my lads, as I have procured you a lodging for

nothing, here's the half-a-crown, what the good-looking Jontleman gave

me; it may sarve you in time of need, so take it along with you, perhaps

you may want it more than I do; and if you know the pleasure of spending

money that is honestly come by, it may teach you a lesson that may keep

you out of the clutches of Jock Ketch, and save

1 Blue toggery--Toggery is a flash term for clothing in

general, but is made use of to describe a blue coat.

2 Mizzled--Ran away.

3 Grabb'd--Took, or stole.

4 Shewing a leg--or, as it is sometimes called, giving leg-

bail--making the best use of legs to escape detection.

~90~~you from dying in a horse's night-cap{1}--there, be off wid you.”

The Hon. Tom Dashall, who had carefully watched the proceedings of Pat,

could not help moralizing upon this last act of the Irishman, and the

advice which accompanied it. “Here,” said he to himself, “is a

genuine display of national character. Here is the heat, the fire, the

effervescence, blended with the generosity and open-heartedness, so much

boasted of by the sons of Erin, and so much eulogized by travellers who

have visited the Emerald Isle.” And slipping a sovereign into his hand,

after the execution of a bond to prosecute the offenders, each of them

taking an arm of Sparkle, they passed down Bow-street, conversing on the

occurrences in which they had been engaged, of which the extraordinary

appearance of Sparkle was the most prominent and interesting.

“How in the name of wonder came you in such a scrape?” said Tom.

“Innocently enough, I can assure you,” replied Sparkle--“with my usual

luck--a bit of gig, a lark, and a turn up.{2}

“... 'Twas waxing rather late,

And reeling bucks the street began to scour,

While guardian watchmen, with a tottering gait,

Cried every thing quite clear, except the hour.”

1 Horse's night-cap--A halter.

2 A bit of gig--a lark--a turn up--are terms made use of to

signify a bit of fun of any kind, though the latter more

generally means a fight. Among the bucks and bloods of the

Metropolis, a bit of fun or a lark, as they term it, ending

in a milling match, a night's lodging in the watch-house,

and a composition with the Charleys in the morning, to avoid

exposure before the Magistrate, is a proof of high spirit--a

prime delight, and serves in many cases to stamp a man's

character. Some, however, who have not courage enough to

brave a street-row and its consequences, are fond of fun of

other kinds, heedless of the consequences to others. “Go it,

my boys,” says one of the latter description, “keep it up,

huzza! I loves fun--for I made such a fool of my father last

April day:--but what do you think I did now, eh?--Ha! ha!

ha!--I will tell you what makes me laugh so: we were

keeping it up in prime twig, faith, so about four o'clock in

the morning 1 went down into the kitchen, and there was Dick

the waiter snoring like a pig before a blazing fire--done

up, for the fellow can't keep it up as we jolly boys do: So

thinks 1, I'll have you, my boy--and what does I do, but I

goes softly and takes the tongs, and gets a red hot coal as

big as my head, and plumpt it upon the fellow's foot and run

away, because I loves fun, you know: So it has lamed him,

and that makes me laugh so--Ha! ha! ha!--it was what I call

better than your _rappartees_ and your _bobinâtes_. I'll

tell you more too: you must know I was in high tip-top

spirits, faith, so I stole a dog from a blind man--for I do

loves fun: so then the blind man cried for his dog, and that

made me laugh heartily: So says I to the blind man--Hallo,

Master, what a you a'ter, what is you up to? does you want

your dog?--Yes, Sir, says he. Now only you mark what I said

to the blind man--Then go and look for him, old chap, says

I--Ha! ha! ha!--that's your sort, my boy, keep it up, keep

it up, d---- me. That's the worst of it, I always turn

sick when I think of a Parson--I always do; and my brother

he is a parson too, and he hates to hear any body swear: so

you know I always swear like a trooper when I am near him,

on purpose to roast him. I went to dine with him one day

last week, and there was my sisters, and two or three more

of what you call your modest women; but I sent 'em all from

the table, and then laugh'd at 'em, for I loves fun, and

that was fun alive 0. And so there was nobody in the room

but my brother and me, and I begun to swear most sweetly: I

never swore so well in all my life--I swore all my new

oaths; it would have done you good to have heard me swear;

till at last my brother looked frightened, and d---- me that

was good fun. At last, he lifted up his hands and eyes to

Heaven, and calls out _O tempora, O mores!_ But I was not to

be done so. Oh! oh! Brother, says I, what you think to

frighten me by calling all your family about you; but I

don't care for you, nor your family neither--so stow it--

I'll mill the whole troop--Only bring your Tempora and Mores

here, that's all--let us have fair play, I'll tip 'em the

Gas in a flash of lightning--I'll box 'em for five pounds,

d---- me: here, where's Tempora and Mores, where are they?

My eyes, how he did stare when he see me ready for a set to--

I never laugh'd so in my life--he made but two steps out of

the room, and left me master of the field. What d'ye

think of that for a lark, eh?--Keep it up--keep it up, d----

me, says I--so I sets down to the table, drank as much as I

could--then I mix'd the heel-taps all in one bottle, and

broke all the empty ones--then bid adieu to Tempora and

Mores, and rolled home in a hackney-coach in prime and

plummy order, d---- me.”

“Coming along Piccadilly last night after leaving you, I was overtaken

at the corner of Rupert-street by our old college-companion Harry

Hartwell, pursuing his way to the Hummums, where it seems he has taken

up his abode. Harry, you remember, never was exactly one of us; he

studies too much, and pores everlastingly over musty old volumes of

Law Cases, Blackstone's Commentaries, and other black books, to qualify

himself for the black art, and as fit and proper person to appear at

the Bar. The length of time that had elapsed since our last meeting was

sufficient inducement for us to crack a bottle together; ~92~~so taking

his arm, we proceeded to the place of destination, where we sat talking

over past times, and indulging our humour till half-past one o'clock,

when I sallied forth on my return to Long's, having altogether abandoned

my original intention of calling in Golden-square. At the corner of

Leicester-square, my ears were assailed with a little of the night

music--the rattles were in full chorus, and the Charleys, in prime

twig,{1} were mustering from all quarters.

[Illustration: page92 Tom and Bob Catching a Charley Napping]

“The street was all alive, and I made my way through the crowd to the

immediate scene of action, which was rendered peculiarly interesting by

the discovery of a dainty bit of female beauty shewing fight with half

a dozen watchmen, in order to extricate herself from the grasp of these

guardians of our peace. She was evidently under the influence of

the Bacchanalian god, which invigorated her arm, without imparting

discretion to her head, and she laid about her with such dexterity, that

the old files{2} were fearful of losing their prey; but the odds were

fearfully against her, and never did I feel my indignation more aroused,

than when I beheld a sturdy ruffian aim a desperate blow at her head

with his rattle, which in all probability, had it taken the intended

effect, would have sent her in search of that peace in the other world,

of which she was experiencing so little in this. It was not possible

for me to stand by, an idle spectator of the destruction of a female

who appeared to have no defender, whatever might be the nature of the

offence alleged or committed. I therefore warded off the blow with my

left arm, and with my right gave him a well-planted blow on the conk,{3}

which sent him piping into the kennel. In a moment I was surrounded and

charged with a violent assault upon the charley,{4} and interfering with

the guardians of the night in the execution of their duty. A complete

diversion took place from the original object of their fury, and in the

bustle to secure me, the unfortunate girl made her escape, where to, or

how, heaven

1 Prime twig--Any thing accomplished in good order, or with

dexterity: a person well dressed, or in high spirits, is

considered to be in prime twig.

2 Old Jiles--A person who has had a long course of

experience in the arts of fraud, so as to become an adept in

the manouvres of the town, is termed a deep file--a rum

file, or an old file.

3 Conk--The nose.

4 Charley--A watchman.

~93~~only knows. Upon finding this, I made no resistance, but marched

boldly along with the scouts{1} to St. Martin's watch-house, where we

arrived just as a hackney coach drew up to the door.

“Take her in, d----n her eyes, she shall _stump up the rubbish_{2}

before I leave her, or give me the address of her _flash covey_,{3}

and so here goes.” By this time we had entered the watch-house, where

I perceived the awful representative of justice seated in an arm chair,

with a good blazing fire, smoking his pipe in consequential ease.

A crowd of Charleys, with broken lanterns, broken heads, and other

symptoms of a row, together with several casual spectators, had gained

admittance, when Jarvis entered, declaring--By G----he wouldn't be

choused by any wh----re or cull in Christendom, and he would make 'em

come down pretty handsomely, or he'd know the reason why: “And so please

your Worship, Sir”--then turning round, “hallo,” said he, “Sam, what's

becom'd of that there voman--eh--vhat, you've been playing booty eh, and

let her escape.” The man to whom this was intended to be addressed did

not appear to be present, as no reply was made. However, the case was

briefly explained.

“But, by G----, I von't put any thing in Sam's vay again,” cried

Jarvey.{4} For my own part, as I knew nothing of the occurrences

adverted to, I was as much in the dark as if I had gone home without

interruption. The representations of the Charleys proved decisive

against me--in vain I urged the cause of humanity, and the necessity

I felt of protecting a defenceless female from the violence of

accumulating numbers, and that I had done no more than every man ought

to have done upon such an occasion. _Old puff and swill_, the lord

of the night, declared that I must have acted with malice

afore-thought--that I was a pal in the concern, and that I had been

instrumental in the design of effecting a rescue; and, after a very

short deliberation, he concluded that I must be a notorious rascal, and

desired me to make up my mind to remain with him for the remainder of

the night. Not relishing this, I proposed to send for bail, assuring him

of my

1 Scouts--Watchmen.

3 Stump up the rubbish--Meaning she (or he) shall pay, or

find money.

3 Flash covey--A fancy man, partner or protector

4 Jarvey--A coachman.

~94~~attendance in the morning; but was informed it could not be

accepted of, as it was clearly made out against me that I had committed

a violent breach of the peace, and nothing at that time could be

produced that would prove satisfactory. Under these circumstances, and

partly induced by a desire to avoid being troublesome in other quarters,

I submitted to a restraint which it appeared I could not very well

avoid, and, taking my seat in an arm-chair by the fire-side, I soon fell

fast asleep, from which I was only aroused by the occasional entrances

and exits of the guardians, until between four and five o'clock, when

a sort of general muster of the Charleys took place, and each one

depositing his nightly paraphernalia, proceeded to his own habitation.

Finding the liberation of others from their duties would not have the

effect of emancipating me from my confinement, which was likely to

be prolonged to eleven, or perhaps twelve o'clock, I began to feel

my situation as a truly uncomfortable one, when I was informed by the

watch-house keeper, who resides upon the spot, that he was going to

_turn in_,{1} that there was fire enough to last till his wife turn'd

out, which would be about six o'clock, and, as I had the appearance of a

gentleman, if there was any thing I wanted, she would endeavour to make

herself useful in obtaining it. “But Lord,” said he, “there is no such

thing as believing any body now-a-days--there was such sets out, and

such manouvering, that nobody knew nothing of nobody.”

“I am obliged to you, my friend,” said I, “for this piece of

information, and in order that you may understand something of the

person you are speaking to beyond the mere exterior view, here is

half-a-crown for your communication.”

“Why, Sir,” said he, laying on at the same moment a shovel of coals,

“this here makes out what I said--Don't you see, said I, that 'are

Gentleman is a gentleman every inch of him, says I--as don't want

nothing at all no more nor what is right, and if so be as how he's got

himself in a bit of a hobble, I knows very well as how he's got

the tip{2} in his pocket, and does'nt want for spirit to pull it

out--Perhaps you might like some breakfast, sir?”

1 Turn in--Going to bed. This is a term most in use among

seafaring men.

2 Tip is synonymous with blunt, and means money.

~95~~“Why yes,” said I--for I began to feel a little inclined that way.

“O my wife, Sir,” said he, “will do all you want, when she rouses

herself.”

“I suppose,” continued I, “you frequently have occasion to accommodate

persons in similar situations?”

“Lord bless you! yes, sir, and a strange set of rum customers we have

too sometimes--why it was but a few nights ago we had 'em stowed here

as thick as three in a bed. We had 'em all upon the _hop_{1}--you never

see'd such fun in all your life, and this here place was as full of

curiosities as Pidcock's at Exeter Change, or Bartlemy-fair--Show 'em up

here, all alive alive O!”

“Indeed!” said I, feeling a little inquisitive on the subject; “and how

did this happen?”

“Why it was a _rummish_ piece of business altogether. There was a large

party of dancing fashionables all met together for a little jig in St.

Martin's lane, and a very pretty medley there was of them. The fiddlers

wagg'd their elbows, and the lads and lasses their trotters, till about

one o'clock, when, just as they were in the midst of a quadrille, in

burst the officers, and quickly changed the tune. The appearance of

these gentlemen had an instantaneous effect upon all parties present:

the cause of their visit was explained, and the whole squad taken into

custody, to give an account of themselves, and was brought here in

hackney-coaches. The delicate Miss and her assiduous partner, who, a

short time before had been all spirits and animation, were now sunk in

gloomy reflections upon the awkwardness of their situation; and many of

our inhabitants would have fainted when they were informed they would

have to appear before the Magistrate in the morning, but for the

well-timed introduction of a little drap of the _cratur_, which an Irish

lady ax'd me to fetch for her. But the best of the fun was, that in the

group we had a Lord and a Parson! For the dignity of the one, and the

honour of the other, they were admitted to bail--Lord have mercy upon

us! said the Parson--Amen, said the Lord; and this had the desired

effect upon the Constable of the night, for he let them off on the sly,

you understand: But my eyes what work there was in the morning! sixteen

Jarveys, full of live lumber,

1 Hop--A dance.

~96~~were taken to Bow-street, in a nice pickle you may be sure,

dancing-pumps and silk-stockings, after setting in the watch-house all

night, and surrounded by lots of people that hooted and howled, as the

procession passed along, in good style. They were safely landed at the

Brown Bear, from which they were handed over in groups to be examined

by the Magistrate, when the men were discharged upon giving satisfactory

accounts, and the women after some questions being put to them. You see

all this took place because they were dancing in an unlicensed room. It

was altogether a laughable set-out as ever you see'd--the Dandys and

the Dandyzettes--the Exquisites--the Shopmen--the Ladies' maid and the

Prentice Boys--my Lord and his Reverence--mingled up higgledy-piggledy,

pigs in the straw, with Bow-street Officers, Runners and

Watchmen--Ladies squalling and fainting, Men swearing and almost

fighting. It would have been a pleasure to have kick'd up a row that

night, a purpose to get admission--you would have been highly amused,

I'll assure you--good morning, Sir.” And thus saying, he turned the lock

upon me, and left me to my meditations. In about a couple of hours

the old woman made her appearance, and prepared me some coffee; and at

eleven o'clock came the Constable of the night, to accompany me before

the Magistrate.

“Aware that the circumstances were rather against me, and that I had no

right to interfere in other persons' business or quarrels, I consulted

him upon the best mode of making up the matter; for although I had

really done no more than becomes a man in protecting a female, I had

certainly infringed upon the law, in effecting the escape of a person in

custody, and consequently was liable to the penalty or penalties in such

cases made and provided. On our arrival at the Brown Bear, I was met

by a genteel-looking man, who delivered me a letter, and immediately

disappeared. Upon breaking the seal, I found its contents as follows:

Dear Sir, Although unknown to me, I have learned enough of your

character to pronounce you a trump, a prime cock, and nothing but a good

one. I am detained by John Doe and Richard Roe with their d----d _fieri

facias_, or I should be with you. However, I trust you will excuse the

liberty I take in requesting you will make use of the enclosed for the

purpose of shaking yourself out of the ~97~~hands of the scouts and

their pals. We shall have some opportunities of meeting, when I will

explain: in the mean time, believe me I am

Your's truly,

Tom.

“With this advice, so consonant with my own opinion, I immediately

complied; and having satisfied the broken-headed Charley, and paid all

expences incurred, I was induced to walk into the office merely to give

a look around me, when by a lucky chance I saw you enter. And thus you

have a full, true, and particular account of the peregrinations of your

humble servant.”

Listening with close attention to this narrative of Sparkle's, all other

subjects had escaped observation, till they found themselves in the

Strand.

“Whither are we bound?” inquired Sparkle.

“On a voyage of discoveries,” replied Dashall, “and we just wanted you

to act as pilot.”

“What place is this?” inquired Bob.

“That,” continued Sparkle, “is Somerset-house. It is a fine old

building; it stands on the banks of the Thames, raised on piers and

arches, and is now appropriated to various public offices, and houses

belonging to the various offices of the Government.”

“The terrace, which lies on the river, is very fine, and may be well

viewed from Waterloo Bridge. The front in the Strand, you perceive,

has a noble aspect, being composed of a rustic basement, supporting a

Corinthian order of columns crowned with an attic in the centre, and at

the extremities with a balustrade. The south front, which looks into the

court, is very elegant in its composition.

“The basement consists of nine large arches; and three in the centre

open, forming the principal entrance; and three at each end, filled with

windows of the Doric order, are adorned with pilasters, entablatures,

and pediments. On the key-stones of the nine arches are carved, in alto

relievo, nine colossal masks, representing the Ocean, and the eight main

Rivers of England, viz. _Thames, Humber, Mersey, Dee, Medway, Tweed,

Tyne, and Severn_, with appropriate emblems to denote their various

characters.

“Over the basement the Corinthian order consists of ten columns upon

pedestals, having their regular entablature. It comprehends two

floors, and the attic in the centre of the front extends over three

intercolomniations, and is divided into three parts by four colossal

statues placed on ~98~~the columns of the order. It terminates with a

group consisting of the arms of the British empire, supported on one

side by the Genius of England, and by Fame, sounding the trumpet, on the

other. These three open arches in the front form the principal entrance

to the whole of the structure, and lead to an elegant vestibule

decorated with Doric columns.

“The terrace, which fronts the Thames, is spacious, and commands a

beautiful view of part of the river, including Blackfriars, Waterloo,

and Westminster Bridges. It is reared on a grand rustic basement,

having thirty-two spacious arches. The arcade thus formed is judiciously

relieved by projections ornamented with rusticated columns, and the

effect of the whole of the terrace from the water is truly grand and

noble. There is however, at present, no admission for the public to

it; but, in all probability, it will be open to all when the edifice is

completed, which would form one of the finest promenades in the world,

and prove to be one of the first luxuries of the metropolis.

“That statue in the centre is a representation of our late King, George

the Third, with the Thames at his feet, pouring wealth and plenty from

a large Cornucopia. It is executed by Bacon, and has his characteristic

cast of expression. It is in a most ludicrous situation, being placed

behind, and on the brink of a deep area.

“In the vestibule are the rooms of the Royal Society, the Society of

Antiquarians, and the Royal Academy of Arts, all in a very grand and

beautiful style. Over the door of the Royal Academy is a bust of Michael

Angelo; and over the door leading to the Royal Society and Society of

Antiquarians, you will find the bust of Sir Isaac Newton.

“The Government-offices, to which this building is devoted, are objects

of great astonishment to strangers, being at once commodious and

elegant, and worthy the wealth of the nation to which they belong. The

hall of the Navy office is a fine room with two fronts, one facing the

terrace and river, and the other facing the court. On the right is the

Stamp-office: it consists of a multitude of apartments: the room in

which the stamping is executed is very interesting to the curious. On

the left you see the Pay-office of the Navy.

“The principal thing to attract notice in this edifice is 99~~the

solidity and completeness of the workmanship in the masonry, and indeed

in every other part.”

After taking a rather prolonged view of this elegant edifice, they again

sallied forth into the Strand, mingling with all the noise and bustle

of a crowded street, where by turns were to be discovered, justling each

other, parsons, lawyers, apothecaries, projectors, excisemen, organists,

picture-sellers, bear and monkey-leaders, fiddlers and bailiffs. The

barber and the chimney-sweeper were however always observed to be

careful in avoiding the touch of each other, as if contamination must be

the inevitable consequence.

“My dear fellow!” exclaimed a tall and well-dressed person, who dragged

the Honourable Tom Dashall on one side--“you are the very person I

wanted--I'm very glad to see you in town again--but I have not a moment

to spare--the blood-hounds are in pursuit--this term will be ended

in two days, then comes the long vacation--liberty without hiring

a horse--you understand--was devilishly afraid of being nabb'd just

now--should have been dished if I had--lend me five shillings--come,

make haste.”

“Five shillings, Diddler, when am I to be paid? you remember--' When I

grow rich' was the reply.”

“Know--yes, I know all about it--but no matter, I'm not going to settle

accounts just now, so don't detain me, I hate Debtor and Creditor.

Fine sport to-morrow, eh--shall be at the Ring--in cog.--take no

notice--disguised as a Quaker--Obadiah Lankloaks--d----d large beaver

hat, and hide my physog.--Lend me what silver you have, and be quick

about it, for I can't stay--thank you, you're a d----a good fellow,

Tom, a trump--shall now pop into a hack, and drive into another

county--thank ye--good day--by by.”

During this harangue, while Tost was counting his silver, the ingenious

Mr. Diddler seized all he had, and whipping it speedily into his pocket,

in a few minutes was out of his sight.

Sparkle observing Dashall looking earnestly after Diddler, approached,

and giving him a lusty slap on the shoulder--“Ha! ha! ha!” exclaimed he,

“what are you done again?”

“I suppose so,” said Dashall; “confound the fellow, he is always

borrowing: I never met him in my life but ~100~~he had some immediate

necessity or other to require a loan of a little temporary supply, as he

calls it.”

“I wonder,” said Sparkle, “that you are so ready to lend, after such

frequent experience--how much does he owe you?”

“Heaven only knows,” continued Tom, “for I do not keep account against

him, I must even trust to his honour--so it is useless to stand here

losing our time--Come, let us forward.”

“With all my heart,”, said Sparkle, “and with permission I propose a

visit to the Bonassus, a peep at St. Paul's, and a chop at Dolly's.”

This proposition being highly approved of, they continued their

walk along the Strand, towards Temple Bar, and in a few minutes were

attracted by the appearance of men dressed in the garb of the Yeomen of

the Guards, who appeared active in the distribution of hand-bills, and

surrounded a house on the front of which appeared a long string of high

and distinguished names, as patrons and patronesses of the celebrated

animal called the Bonassus. Crossing the road in their approach to

the door, Tallyho could not help admiring the simple elegance of a

shop-front belonging to a grocer, whose name is Peck.

“Very handsome and tasty, indeed,” replied Sparkle; “that combination of

marble and brass has a light and elegant effect: it has no appearance of

being laboured at. The inhabitant of the house I believe is a foreigner,

I think an Italian; but London boasts of some of the most elegant shops

in the world.” And by this time they entered the opposite house.

CHAPTER IX

“In London my life is a ring of delight,

In frolics I keep up the day and the night;

I snooze at the Hummums till twelve, perhaps later,

I rattle the bell, and I roar up the Waiter;

'Your Honour,' says he, and he makes me a leg;

He brings me my tea, but I swallow an egg;

For tea in a morning's a slop I renounce,

So I down with a glass of good right cherry-bounce.

With--swearing, tearing--ranting, jaunting--slashing,

smashing--smacking, cracking--rumbling, tumbling

--laughing, quaffing--smoking, joking--swaggering,

Staggering:

So thoughtless, so knowing, so green and so mellow,

This, this is the life of a frolicsome fellow.”

~101~~UPON entering the house, and depositing their shilling each to

view this newly discovered animal from the Apalachian mountains of

America, and being supplied with immense long bills descriptive of his

form and powers--“Come along (said Sparkle,) let us have a look at the

most wonderful production of nature--only seventeen months old, five

feet ten inches high, and one of the most fashionable fellows in the

metropolis.”

“It should seem so,” said Tallyho, “by the long list of friends and

visitors that are detailed in the commencement of the bill of fare.”

“Perhaps,” said Tom, “there are more Bon asses than one.”

“Very likely (continued Sparkle;) but let me tell you the allusion in

this case does not apply, for this animal has nothing of the donkey

about him, and makes no noise, as you will infer from the following

lines in the Bill:

“As the Bonassus does not roar,

His fame is widely known,

For no dumb animal before

Has made such noise in town.”

~102~~At this moment the barking of a dog assailed their ears, and

suspended the conversation. Passing onward to the den of the Bonassus,

they found a dark-featured gentleman of middling stature, with his hair,

whiskers, and ears, so bewhitened with powder as to form a complete

contrast with his complexion and a black silk handkerchief which he wore

round his neck, holding a large brown-coloured dog by the collar, in

order to prevent annoyance to the visitors.

“D----n the dog, (exclaimed he) although he is the best tempered

creature in the world, he don't seem to like the appearance of the

Bonassus “--and espying Sparkle, “Ha, my dear fellow! how are you?--I

have not seen you for a long while.”

“Why, Sir D--n--ll, I am happy to say I never was better in my

life--allow me to introduce you to my two friends, the Hon. Mr. Dashall,

and Robert Tallyho--Sir D--n--ll Harlequin.”

The mutual accompaniments of such an introduction having passed among

them, the Knight, who was upon the moment of departure as they entered,

expressed his approbation of the animal he had been viewing, and,

lugging his puppy by one hand, and his cudgel in the other, wished them

a good morning.

“There is an eccentric man of Title,” continued Sparkle.

“I should judge,” said Bob, “there was a considerable portion of

eccentricity about him, by his appearance. Is he a Baronet?”

“A Baronet,” (replied Sparkle) “no, no, he is no other than a _Quack

Doctor_.”{1}

1 Of all the subjects that afford opportunities for the

satiric pen in the Metropolis, perhaps there is none more

abundant or prolific than that of Quackery. Dr. Johnson

observes, that “_cheats can seldom stand long against

laughter_.” But if a judgment is really to be formed from

existing facts, it may be supposed that times are so

materially changed since the residence of that able writer

in this sublunary sphere, that the reverse of the position

may with greater propriety be asserted. For such is the

prevailing practice of the present day, that, according to

the opinion of thousands, there is nothing to be done

without a vast deal more of profession and pretence than

actual power, and he who is the best able to bear laughing

at, is the most likely to realize the hopes he entertains of

obtaining celebrity, and of having his labours crowned with

success. Nothing can be more evident than this in the

Medical profession, though there are successful Quacks of

all kinds, and in all situations, to be found in London.

This may truly be called the age of Quackery, from the

abundance of impostors of every kind that prey upon society;

and such as cannot or will not think for themselves, ought

to be guarded in a publication of this nature, against the

fraudulent acts of those persons who make it their business

and profit to deteriorate the health, morals, and amusements

of the public. But, in the present instance, we are speaking

of the Medical Quack only, than which perhaps there is none

more remarkable.

The race of Bossys, Brodrums, Solomons, Perkins, Chamants,

&c. is filled by others of equal notoriety, and no doubt of

equal utility. The Cerfs, the Curries, the Lamerts, the

Ruspinis, the Coopers, and Munroes, are all equally entitled

to public approbation, particularly if we may credit the

letters from the various persons who authenticate the

miraculous cures they have performed in the most inveterate,

we hail almost said, the most impossible, cases. If those

persons are really in existence (and who can doubt it?) they

certainly have occasion to be thankful for their escapes,

and we congratulate them; for in our estimation Quack

Doctors seem to consider the human frame merely as a subject

for experiments, which if successful will secure the

reputation of the practitioner. The acquisition of fame and

fortune is, in the estimation of these philosophers, cheaply

purchased by sacrificing the lives of a few of the vulgar,

to whom they prescribe gratis; and the slavish obedience of

some patients to the Doctor, is really astonishing. It is

said that a convalescent at Bath wrote to his Physician in

London, to know whether he might eat sauce with his pork;

but we have not been able to discover whether he expected an

answer gratis; that would perhaps have been an experiment

not altogether grateful to the Doctor's feelings.

The practice of advertising and billing the town has become

so common, that a man scarcely opens a coal-shed, or a

potatoe-stall, without giving due notice of it in the

newspapers, and distributing hand-bills: and frequently with

great success. But our Doctors, who make no show of their

commodities, have no mode of making themselves known without

it. Hence the quantity of bills thrust into the hand of the

passenger through the streets of London, which divulge the

almost incredible performances of their publishers. A high-

sounding name, such as The Chevalier de diamant, the

Chevalier de Ruspini, or The Medical Board, well bored behind

and before, are perhaps more necessary, with a few paper

puffs--as “palpable hits, my Lord,” than either skill or

practice, to obtain notice and secure fame.

The Chevalier de Chamant, who was originally a box-maker,

and a man of genius, considering box-making a plebeian

occupation, was for deducing a logical position, not exactly

perhaps by fair argument, but at all events through the

teeth, and was determined, although he could not, like Dr.

Pangloss, mend the cacology of his friends, at least to give

them an opportunity for plenty of jaw-work. With this

laudable object in view, he obtained a patent for making

artificial teeth of mineral paste; and in his advertisements

condescended not to prove their utility as substitutes for

the real teeth, when decayed or wanting, (this was beneath

his notice, and would have been a piece of mere plebeian

Quackery unworthy of his great genius,) but absolutely

assured the world that his mineral teeth were infinitely

superior to any production of nature, both for mastication

and beauty! How this was relished we know not; but he

declared (and he certainly ought to know) that none but

silly and timid persons would hesitate for one moment to

have their teeth drawn, and substitute his minerals: and it

is wonderful to relate, that although his charges were

enormous, and the operation (as may be supposed) not the

most pleasant, yet people could not resist the ingenious

Chevalier's fascinating and drawing puffs; in consequence of

which he soon became possessed of a large surplus of

capital, with which he determined to speculate in the Funds.

For this purpose he employed old Tom Bish, the Stockbroker,

to purchase stock for the amount; but owing to a sudden

fluctuation in the market, a considerable depreciation took

place between the time of purchase and that of payment; a

circumstance which made the Chevalier grin and show his

teeth: Determining however, not to become a victim to the

fangs of Bulls and Bears, but rather to dive like a duck, he

declared the bargain was not legal, and that he would not be

bound by it. Bish upon this occasion proved a hard-mouthed

customer to the man of teeth, and was not a quiet subject to

be drawn, but brought an action against the mineral monger,

and recovered the debt. Tom's counsel, in stating the case,

observed, that the Defendant would find the law could bite

sharper aud hold tighter than any teeth he could make; and

so it turned out.

The Chevalier de R--sp--ni is another character who has cut

no small figure in this line, but has recently made his

appearance in the Gazette, not exactly on so happy an

occasion as such a circumstance would be to his brother

chip, Dr. D--n--ll, now (we suppose) Sir Francis--though

perhaps equally entitled to the honour of knighthood. The

Chevalier has for some years looked Royalty in the face by

residing opposite Carlton House, and taken every precaution

to let the public know that such an important public

character was there to be found, by displaying his name as

conspicuously as possible on brass plates, &c. so that the

visitors to Carlton House could hardly fail to notice him as

the second greatest Character of that great neighbourhood.

But what could induce so great a man to sport his figure in

the Gazette, is as unaccountable as the means by which he

obtained such happy celebrity. Had it occurred immediately

after the war, it might have been concluded without much

stretch of imagination, that the Chevalier, who prides

himself on his intimacy with all the great men of the day,

had, through the friendship of the Duke of Wellington, made

a contract for the teeth and jaw-bones of all who fell at

the battle of Waterloo, and that by bringing to market so

great a stock at one time, the article had fallen in value,

and left the speculating Chevalier so great a loser as to

cause his bankruptcy. Whether such is the real cause or not,

it is difficult to ascertain what could induce the Chevalier

to descend from his dealings with the head to dabble with

lower commodities.

Among other modes of obtaining notoriety, usually resorted

to by Empirics, the Chevalier used to job a very genteel

carriage and pair, but his management was so excellent, that

the expenses of his equipage were very trifling; for as it

was not intended to run, but merely to stand at the door

like a barker at a broker's shop, or a direction-post, he

had the loan on very moderate terms, the job-master taking

into account that the wind of the cattle was not likely to

be injured, or the wheels rattled to pieces by velocity, or

smashed by any violent concussion.

The Chevalier had a Son, who unfortunately was not endowed

by nature with so much ambition or information as his

father; for, frequently when the carriage has been standing

at the door, he has been seen drinking gin most cordially

with Coachee, without once thinking of the evils of example,

or recollecting that he was one of the family. Papa used to

be very angry on these occasions, because, as he said, it

was letting people know that Coachee was only hired as &job,

and not as a family domestic.

For the great benefit and advantage of the community,

Medical Boards have recently been announced in various parts

of the Metropolis, where, according to the assertions of the

Principals, in their advertisements, every disease incident

to human nature is treated by men of skilful practice; and

among these truly useful establishments, those of Drs.

Cooper, Munro, and Co. of Charlotte house, Blackfriars, and

Woodstock-house, Oxford-road, are not the least conspicuous.

Who these worthies are, it is perhaps difficult to

ascertain. One thing however is certain, that Sir

F----s C----e D--n--ll, M.D. is announced as Treasurer,

therefore there can be no doubt but that all is fair above

board, for

“Brutus is an honourable man,

So are they all--all honourable men.”

And where so much skill derived from experience is

exercised, it cannot be doubted but great and important

benefits may result to a liberal and enlightened people. Of

the establishment itself we are informed by a friend, that

having occasion to call on the Treasurer, upon some

business, the door was opened by a copper-coloured servant,

a good-looking young Indian--not a fuscus Hydaspes, but a

serving man of good appearance, who ushered him up stairs,

and introduced him to the front room on the first floor,

where all was quackery, bronze and brass, an electrical

machine, images, pictures and diplomas framed and glazed,

and a table covered with books and papers. In a short time,

a person of very imposing appearance entered the room, with

his hair profusely powdered, and his person, from his chin

to his toes, enveloped in a sort of plaid roquelaure, who,

apologizing for the absence of the Doctor, began to assure

him of his being in the entire confidence of the Board, and

in all probability would have proceeded to the operation of

feeling the pulse in a very short time, had not the visitor

discovered in the features of this disciple of Esculapius a

person he had known in former times. 'Why, good God!'

cried he, 'is that you?--What have you done with the Magic-

lantern, and the Lecture on Heads?--am I right, or am I in

fairy-land?' calling him by his name. It was in vain to

hesitate, it was impossible to escape, the discovery was

complete. It was plain however that the dealer in magical

delusions had not altogether given up the art of

legerdemain, which, perhaps, he finds the most profitable of

the two.

Of the worthy Knight himself, (and perhaps the Coopers and

Munros have been consumed by the electrical fluid of their

own Board) much might be said. He is the inventor of a life-

preserver, with which it may be fairly presumed he has

effected valuable services to his country by the

preservation of Royalty, as a proof of deserving the honour

he has obtained. He is patriotic and independent, masonic

and benevolent, a great admirer of fancy horses and fancy

ladies, a curer of incurables, and has recently published

one of the most extraordinary Memoirs that has ever been

laid before the public, embellished with two portraits:

which of the two is most interesting must be left to the

discrimination of those who view them. It must however be

acknowledged, that after reading the following extract,

ingratitude is not yet eradicated from our nature, since,

notwithstanding he has obtained the dignified appellation of

Sir Francis, the Gazette says, that “in future no improper

person shall be admitted to the honour of knighthood, in

consequence of two surreptitious presentations lately”--the

one an M.D. the other F.R.C. Surgeons, particularly if it

were possible that this Gentleman may be one of the persons

alluded to. For, what says the Memoir?

“The utility of Sir Francis's invention being thus fully

established, and its ingenuity universally admired, it

excited the interest of the first characters among the

nobility, and an introduction to Court was repeatedly

offered to Sir Francis on this account. After a previous

communication with one of the Royal Family, and also with

the Secretary of State, on the 14th June last, he had the

honour of being presented to His Majesty, who, justly

appreciating the merit of the discovery, was pleased to

confer upon him the honour of knighthood.

“Thus it is pleasing, in the distribution of honours by the

hand of the Sovereign, to mark where they are conferred on

real merit. This is the true intention of their origin; but

it has been too often departed from, and they have been

given where no other title existed than being the friend of

those who had influence to gain the Royal ear. From the

above statement, it will be seen this honour was conferred

on Sir Francis by his Majesty for an invention, which has

saved since its discovery the lives of many hundreds, and

which may be considered as having given the original idea to

the similar inventions that have been attempted since that

time. Its utility and importance we have also seen

acknowledged and rewarded by the two leading Societies in

this country, and perhaps in Europe, viz. the Royal Humane,

and the Society of Arts. The Sovereign therefore was only

recognizing merit which had been previously established; and

the honour of knighthood, to the credit of the individual,

was conferred by his Majesty in the most liberal and

handsome manner, without any other influence being used by

Sir Francis than simply preferring the claim.”

Thus the subject of Knighthood is to be nursed; and as the

Doctor and the Nurse are generally to be recognized

together, no one can read this part of the Memoir without

exclaiming--Well done, Nussey. But why not Gazetted, after

this liberal and hand-some manner of being rewarded? or why

an allusion to two surreptitious presentations, the names of

which two persons, so pointedly omitted, cannot well be

misunderstood? This is but doing things by halves, though no

such an observation can be applied to the proceedings of

Charlotte-house, where Cooper, Munro, and Co. (being well

explained) means two or three persons, viz. a black, a white

man, and a mahogany-coloured Knight--a barber by trade, and

a skinner by company--a dealer in mercurials--a puff by

practice and an advertiser well versed in all the arts of

his prototype--a practitioner in panygyric--the puff direct--

the puff preliminary--the puff collateral--the puff

collusive--and the puff oblique, or puff by implication.

Whether this will apply to Sir Charles Althis or not, is

perhaps not so easy to ascertain; but as birds of a feather

like to flock together, so these medical Knights in

misfortune deserve to be noticed in the same column,

although the one is said to be a Shaver, and the other a

Quaker. It seems they have both been moved by the same

spirit, and both follow (a good way off) the profession of

medicine.

Among the various improvements of these improving times, for

we are still improving, notwithstanding complaint, a learned

little Devil, inflated with gas, has suggested a plan for

the establishment of a Medical Assurance-office, where

person and property might be insured at so much per annum,

and the advantages to be derived from such an Institution

would be, that instead of the insurance increasing with

years, it would grow less and less. How many thousand

grateful patients would it relieve annually! but we fear it

would be a daily source of sorrow to these knightly

medicals, and would by them be considered a devilish hard

case.

But hush, here is other company, and I will give you an account of him

as we go along.”

They now attended the Keeper, who explained the age, height, weight,

species, size, power, and propensities of the animal, and then departed

on their road towards Temple Bar,--on passing through which, they were

overtaken again by Sir Francis, in a gig drawn by a dun-coloured

horse, with his puppy between his legs, and a servant by his side, and

immediately renewed the previous conversation.

“There he goes again,” said Sparkle, “and a rare fellow he is too.”

“I should think so,” said Bob; “he must have quacked to some good

purpose, to obtain the honour of knighthood.”

~108~~“Not positively that,” continued Sparkle; “for to obtain and to

deserve are not synonymous, and, if report say true, there is not much

honour attached to his obtaining it.

“----In the modesty of fearful duty,

I read as much as from the rattling tongue

Of saucy and audacious eloquence:

Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity,

At least speak most to my capacity.”

And, according to my humble conception, he who talks much about himself,

or pays others to talk or write about him, is generally most likely to

be least deserving of public patronage; for if a man possesses real and

evident abilities in any line of profession, the public will not be

long in making a discovery of its existence, and the bounty, as is most

usually the case, would quickly follow upon the heels of approbation.

But many a meritorious man in the Metropolis is pining away his

miserable existence, too proud to beg, and too honest to steal, while

others, with scarcely more brains than a sparrow, by persevering in

a determination to leave no stone unturned to make themselves appear

ridiculous, as a first step to popularity; and having once excited

attention, even though it is merely to be laughed at by the thinking

part of mankind, he finds it no great difficulty to draw the money out

of their pockets while their eyes are riveted on a contemplation of his

person or conduct. And there are not wanting instances of effrontery

that have elevated men of little or no capacity to dignified situations.

If report say true, the present Secretary of the Admiralty, who is

admirable for his poetry also, was originally a hair-dresser, residing

somewhere in Blackfriar's or Westminster-road; but then you must

recollect he was a man who knew it was useless to lose a single

opportunity; and probably such has been the case with Sir Daniel

Harlequin, who, from keeping a small shop in Wapping, making a blaze

upon the water about his Life-preserver, marrying a wife with a red

face and a full pocket, retired to a small cottage at Mile End, and

afterwards establishing a Medical Board, has got himself dubbed a

Knight. To be sure he has had a deal of puffing and blowing work to get

through in his progress, which probably accounts for his black looks,

not a little increased by the quantity of powder he wears. But what have

we here?” finding the bustle of the streets considerably increased after

passing Temple Bar.

“Some political Bookseller or other, in all probability,” said

Tom--“I'll step forward and see.” And in passing through the numerous

body of persons that crowded on every side, the whole party was

separated. Bob, who had hung a little back while his two friends rushed

forward, was lingering near the corner of the Temple: he was beckoned by

a man across the way, to whom he immediately went.

“Do you happen to want a piece of fine India silk handkerchiefs, Sir?

I have some in my pocket that I can recommend and sell cheap--for money

must be had; but only keep it to yourself, because they are smuggled

goods, of the best quality and richest pattern.” During this opening

speech, he was endeavouring to draw Tallyho under the archway of

Bell-yard, when Sparkle espying him, ran across to him, and taking him

by the arm--“Come along (said he;) and if you don't take yourself off

instantly, I'll put you in custody,” shaking his stick at the other.

All this was like Hebrew to Bob, who, for his part, really conceived the

poor fellow, as he termed him, might be in want of money, and compelled

to dispose of his article for subsistence.

“Ha, ha, ha,” cried Sparkle, “I see you know nothing about them: these

are the locusts of the town.” At this moment they were joined by the

Hon. Tom Dashall.

“Egad!” continued Sparkle, “I just saved your Cousin from being

trepanned, and sent for a soldier.”

Tallyho appeared all amazement.

“What,” cried Tom, “in the wars of Venus then, I suppose I know he has a

fancy for astronomy, and probably he was desirous of taking a peep into

Shire-lane, where he might easily find the Sun, Moon, and Seven Stars.”

“Ha! ha! ha!” replied Sparkle, “not exactly so; but I rescued him from

the hands of a Buffer,{1} who would

1 Buffers miscalled Duffers--Persons who adopt a species of

swindling which is rather difficult of detection, though it

is daily practised in London. The term Buffer takes its

derivation from a custom which at one time prevailed of

carrying Bandanas, sarsnets, French stockings, and silk of

various kinds, next the shirts of the sellers; so that upon

making a sale, they were obliged to undress in order to come

at the goods, or in other words, to strip to the skin, or

buff it; by which means they obtained the title of Buffers.

This trade (if it may be so termed) is carried on in a

genteel manner. The parties go about from house to house,

and attend public-houses, inns, and fairs, pretending to

sell smuggled goods, such as those already mentioned; and by

offering their goods for sale, they are enabled by practice

to discover the proper objects for their arts.

Buffers, or Duffers, who are not rogues in the strict sense

of the word, only offer to sell their goods to the best

advantage, and by this means evade the detection of the

police, but are equally subversive or destructive of common

honesty under a cloak or disguise; for if they can persuade

any person that the article offered is actually better or

cheaper than any other person's, they are doing no more than

every tradesman does; but then as they pay no rent or taxes

to the State, the principal objection to them lies in the

mode of operation, and an overstrained recommendation of

their goods, which are always, according to their account,

of the most superior quality; and they have a peculiar

facility of discovering the novice or the silly, to whom

walking up with a serious countenance and interesting air,

they broach the pleasing intelligence, that they have on

sale an excellent article well worth their attention, giving

a caution at the same time, that honour and secrecy must be

implicitly observed, or it may lead to unpleasantness to

both parties. By these means persons from the country are

frequently enticed into public-houses to look at their

goods; and if they do not succeed in one way, they are

almost sure in another, by having an accomplice, who will

not fail to praise the articles for sale, and propose some

gambling scheme, by which the party is plundered of his

money by passing forged Bank-notes, base silver or copper,

in the course of their dealings.

~110~~doubtless have fleeced him in good style, if he could only have

induced him to attend to his story.”

“The mob you see collected there,” said the Hon. Tom Dashalll, “is

attracted by two circumstances--Money's new Coronation Crop, just

lanched--and a broken image of a Highlander, at the door of a

snuff-shop; each of them truly important and interesting of course, the

elevation of one man, and the destruction of another. The poor Scotchman

seems dreadfully bruised, and I suppose is now under the Doctor's hands,

for he has two or three plasters on his face.”

“Yes,” continued Sparkle, “he has been out on a spree,{1} had a bit of a

turn-up, and been knock'd down.”

Upon hearing this conversation, Tallyho could not help inquiring into

the particulars.

“Why the facts are simply as follows,” continued

1 Spree--A bit of fun, or a frolicsome lark.

~111~~Sparkle--“in London, as you perceive, tradesmen are in the habit

of exhibiting signs of the business or profession in which they are

engaged. The Pawnbroker decorates his door with three gold balls--the

Barber, in some places, (though it is a practice almost out of date)

hangs out a long pole--the Gold-beater, an arm with a hammer in the

act of striking--the Chemist, a head of Glauber, or Esculapius--the

Tobacconist, a roll of tobacco, and of late it has become customary

for these venders of pulverised atoms called snuff, to station a wooden

figure of a Highlander, in the act of taking a pinch of Hardham's, or

High-dried, as a sort of inviting introduction to their counters; and

a few nights back, a Scotchman, returning from his enjoyments at a

neighbouring tavern, stopped to have a little friendly chat with this

gentleman's Highlander, and by some means or other, I suppose, a quarrel

ensued, upon which the animated young Scotchman took advantage of his

countryman--floored him, broke both his arms, and otherwise did him

considerable bodily injury, the effects of which are still visible;

and Johnny Bull, who is fond of a little gape-seed, is endeavouring to

console him under his sufferings.”

“Very kind of him, indeed,” replied Bob.

“At any rate,” said Tom, “the Tobacconist will have occasion to be

grateful to the Highlander{1} for some portion of his popularity.”

1 It is matter of astonishment to some, but not less true,

that many tradesmen in the Metropolis have to ascribe both

fame and fortune to adventitious circumstances. It is said

that Hardham, of Fleet Street, had to thank the celebrated

Comedian, Foote, who, in one of his popular characters,

introducing his snuffbox, offered a pinch to the person he

was in conversation with on the stage, who spoke well of it,

and inquired where he obtained it?--“Why, at Hardham's, to

be sure.” And to this apparently trifling circumstance,

Hardham was indebted for his fortune.

The importance of a Highlander to a snuff-shop will appear

by a perusal of the following fact:--

A very respectable young man, a Clerk in the office of an

eminent Solicitor, was recently brought before Mr. Alderman

Atkins, upon the charge of being disorderly. The prisoner,

it seemed, on his return home from a social party, where he

had been sacrificing rather too freely to the jolly god, was

struck with the appearance of a showy wooden figure of a

Highlander, at the door of Mr. Micklan's snuff-shop, No. 12,

Fleet Street. The young Attorney, who is himself a

Scotchman, must needs claim acquaintance with his

countryman. He chucked him familiarly under the chin, called

him a very pretty fellow, and, in the vehemence of his

affection, embraced him with so much violence, as to force

him from his station. Mr. Micklan ran to the assistance of

his servant, and in the scuffle the unfortunate Highlander

had both his arms dislocated, the frill that adorned his

neck damaged, besides other personal injuries, which his

living countryman not being in the humour to atone for, Mr.

Micklau gave him in charge to the watchman. Before the

Magistrate in the morning, the young man appeared heartily

sick of his folly, and perfectly willing to make every

reparation, but complained of the excessive demand, which he

stated to be no less than thirteen guineas. Mr. Micklan

produced the remains of the unfortunate Highlander, who

excited a compound fracture of both arms, with a mutilation

of three or four fingers, and such other bodily wounds, as

to render his perfect recovery, so as to resume his

functions at Mr. Micklan's door, altogether hopeless. The

Highlander, the complainant stated, cost him thirteen

guineas, and was entirely new. The sum might seem large for

the young gentleman to pay for such a frolic, but it would

not compensate him for the injury he should sustain by the

absence of the figure; for, however strange it might appear,

he did not hesitate to say, that without it he should not

have more than half his business. Since he had stationed it

at his door, he had taken on an average thirty shillings a

day more than he had done previous to exhibiting his

attractions.

There being no proof of a breach of the peace, Mr. Alderman

Atkins advised the gentleman to settle the matter upon the

best terms he could. They withdrew together, and on their

return the complainant reported that the gentleman had

agreed to take the figure, and furnish him with a new one.

Mr. Alderman Atkins, in discharging the prisoner,

recommended to him to get the figure repaired, and make a

niche for him in his office, where, by using it as a proper

memorial, it would probably save him more than it cost him.

The broken figure has since been exhibited in his old

station, and excited considerable notice; but we apprehend

he is not yet able to afford all the attractions of his

occupation, for he has formerly been seen inviting his

friends to a pinch of snuff gratis, by holding a box

actually containing that recreating powder in his hand, in

the most obliging and condescending manner--a mark of

politeness and good breeding well worthy of respectful

attention.

“Come,” said Sparkle, “we are now in one of the principal thoroughfares

of the Metropolis, Fleet Street, of which you have already heard much,

and is at all times thronged with multitudes of active and industrious

persons, in pursuit of their various avocations, like a hive of bees,

and keeping up, like them, a ceaseless hum. Nor is it less a scene of

Real Life worth viewing, than the more refined haunts of the noble, the

rich, and the great, many of whom leave their splendid habitations in

the West in the morning, to attend the money-getting, ~113~~commercial

men of the City, and transact their business.--The dashing young

spendthrift, to borrow at any interest; and the more prudent, to buy or

to sell. The plodding tradesman, the ingenious mechanic, are exhausting

their time in endeavours to realize property, perhaps to be left for

the benefit of a Son, who as ardently sets about, after his Father's

decease, to get rid of it--nay, perhaps, pants for an opportunity of

doing this before he can take possession; for the young Citizen, having

lived just long enough to conceive himself superior to his father, in

violation of filial duty and natural authority, affects an aversion to

every thing that is not novel, expensive, and singular. He is a lad of

high spirit; he calls the city a poor dull prison, in which he cannot

bear to be confined; and though he may not intend to mount his nag,

stiffens his cravat, whistles a sonata, to which his whip applied to the

boot forms an accompaniment; while his spurs wage war with the flounces

of a fashionably-dressed belle, or come occasionally in painful contact

with the full-stretched stockings of a gouty old gentleman; by all

which he fancies he is keeping” up the dignity and importance of his

character. He does not slip the white kid glove from his hand without

convincing the spectator that; his hand is the whiter skin; nor

twist his fingers for the introduction of a pinch of Maccaba, without

displaying to the best advantage his beautifully chased ring and

elegantly painted snuff-box lid; nor can the hour of the day be

ascertained without discovering his engine-turned repeater, and hearing

its fascinating music: then the fanciful chain, the precious stones

in golden robes, and last of all, the family pride described in true

heraldic taste and naïveté. Of Peter Pindar's opinion, that

“Care to our coffin adds a nail,

But every grin so merry draws one out,”

he thinks it an admirable piece of politeness and true breeding to give

correct specimens of the turkey or the goose in the serious scenes of a

dramatic representation, or while witnessing her Ladyship's confusion

in a crowd of carriages combating for precedence in order to obtain

an early appearance at Court. Reading he considers quite a bore, but

attends the reading-room, which he enters, not to know what is worth

reading and add a little knowledge to his slender stock from the labours

and experience of ~114~~men of letters--no, but to quiz the cognoscenti,

and throw the incense over its learned atmosphere from his strongly

perfumed cambric handkerchief, which also implies what is most in

use for the indulgence of one of the five senses. When he enters a

coffee-room, it is not for the purpose of meeting an old friend, and to

enjoy with him a little rational conversation over his viands, but

to ask for every newspaper, and throw them aside without looking at

them--to call the Waiter loudly by his name, and shew his authority--to

contradict an unknown speaker who is in debate with others, and declare,

upon the honour of a gentleman and the veracity of a scholar, that Pope

never understood Greek, nor translated Homer with tolerable justice.

He considers it a high privilege to meet a celebrated pugilist at an

appointed place, to floor him for a quid,{1} a fall, and a high delight

to talk of it afterwards for the edification of his friends--to pick

up a Cyprian at mid-day--to stare modest women out of countenance--to

bluster at a hackney-coachman--or to upset a waterman in the river, in

order to gain the fame of a Leander, and prove himself a Hero.

“He rejects all his father's proposed arrangements for his domestic

comforts and matrimonial alliance. He wanders in his own capricious

fancy, like a fly in summer, over the fields of feminine beauty and

loveliness; yet he declares there is so much versatility and instability

about the fair sex, that they are unworthy his professions of regard;

and, perhaps, in his whole composition, there is nothing deserving of

serious notice but his good-nature. Thus you have a short sketch of a

young Citizen.”

“Upon my word, friend Sparkle, you are an admirable delineator of

Society,” said Dashall.

“My drawings are made from nature,” continued Sparkle.

“Aye, and very naturally executed too,” replied Tom. Having kept walking

on towards St. Paul's, they were by this time near the end of Shoe Lane,

at the corner of which sat an elderly woman with a basket of mackerel

for sale; and as they approached they saw several persons rush from

thence into the main street in evident alarm.

“Come up, d----n your eyes,” said an ill-favoured fellow with an

immense cudgel in his fist, driving an ass laden

1 Quid--A. Guinea.

115~~with brick-dust, with which he was belabouring him most

unmercifully. The poor beast, with an endeavour to escape if possible

the cudgelling which awaited him, made a sudden turn round the post,

rubbing his side against it as he went along, and thereby relieving

himself of his load, which he safely deposited, with a cloud of

brick-dust that almost blinded the old woman and those who were near

her, in the basket of fish. Neddy then made the best of his way towards

Fleet-market, and an over-drove bullock, which had terrified many

persons, issued almost at the same moment from Shoe Lane, and took the

direction for Temple-bar. The whistling, the hooting, the hallooing,

and the running of the drovers in pursuit--men, women, and children,

scampering to get out of the way of the infuriated beast--the noise and

rattling of carriages, the lamentations of the poor fish-fag, and the

vociferations of the donkey-driver to recover his neddy--together with a

combination of undistinguishable sounds from a variety of voices, crying

their articles for sale, or announcing their several occupations--formed

a contrast of characters, situations, and circumstances, not easily to

be described. Here, a poor half-starved and almost frightened-to-death

brat of a Chimney-sweeper, in haste to escape, had run against a lady

whose garments were as white as snow--there, a Barber had run against

a Parson, and falling along with him, had dropped a pot of pomatum from

his apron-pocket on the reverend gentleman's eye, and left a mark in

perfect unison with the colour of his garments before the disaster, but

which were now of a piebald nature, neither black nor white. A barrow

of nuts, overturned in one place, afforded fine amusement for the

scrambling boys and girls--a Jew old clothes-man swore upon his

conscience he had losht the pest pargain vhat he ever had offered to him

in all his lifetime, by dem tam'd bears of bull-drivers--a Sailor called

him a gallows _half-hung ould crimp_,{1} d----d his

1 Crimp--Kidnappers, Trappers, or Procurers of men for the

Merchant Service; and the East-India company contract with

them for a supply of sailors to navigate their ships out and

home. These are for the most part Jews, who have made

advances to the sailors of money, clothes, victuals, and

lodgings, generally to a very small amount, taking care to

charge an enormous price for every article. The poor

fellows, by these means, are placed under a sort of

espionage, if not close confinement, till the ship is ready

to receive them; and then they are conducted on board at

Gravesend by the Crimp and his assistants, and a receipt

taken for them.

In this process there is nothing very reprehensible--the men

want births, and have no money--the Crimp keeps a lodging-

house, and wishes to be certain of his man: he therefore

takes him into the house, and after a very small supply of

cash, the grand do, is to persuade him to buy watches,

buckles, hats, and jackets, to be paid for on his receiving

his advance previous to sailing. By this means and the

introduction of grog, the most barefaced and unblushing

robberies have been committed.

With the same view of fleecing the unwary poor fellows, who

“... at sea earn their money like horses,

To squander it idly like asses on shore,”

they watch their arrival after the voyage, and advance small

sums of money upon their tickets, or perhaps buy them out

and out, getting rid at the same time of watches, jewellery,

and such stuff, at more than treble their real value. Not

only is this the case in London, but at all the out-ports it

is practised to a very great extent, particularly in war

time.

Happy would it be for poor Jack were this all; he is some-

times brought in indebted to the Crimp to a large nominal

amount, by what is called a long-shore attorney, or more

appropriately, a black shark, and thrown into jail!!! There

he lies until his body is wanted, and then the incarcerator

négociâtes with him for his liberty, to be permitted to

enter on board again.

~116~~eyes if he was not glad of it, and, with a sling of his arm,

deposited an enormous quid he had in his mouth directly in the chaps

of the Israelite, then joined the throng in pursuit; while the Jew,

endeavouring to call Stop thief, took more of the second-hand quid

than agreed with the delicacy of his stomach, and commenced a vomit,

ejaculating with woful lamentations, that he had lost his bag mit all

his propertish.

The old mackarel-woman, seeing her fish covered with brick-dust, set off

in pursuit of the limping donkey-driver, and catching him by the neck,

swore he should pay her for the fish, and brought him back to the scene

of action; but, in the mean time, the Street-keeper had seized

and carried off the basket with all its contents--misfortune upon

misfortune!

“D----n your ass, and you too,” said the Fish-woman, “if you doesn't

pay me for my fish, I'll _quod_{1} you--that there's all vat I ar got to

say.”

“Here's a bit of b----dy gammon--don't you see as how I am lost both

my ass and his cargo, and if you von't leave

1 Quod--A Jail--to quod a person is to send him to jail.

~117~~me alone, and give me my bags again, I'll sarve you out--there

now, that's all--bl----st me! fair play's a jewel--let go my hair,

and don't kick up no rows about it--see vhat a mob you're a making

here--can't you sell your mackarel ready sauced, and let me go ater

Neddy?”

“Vhat, you thinks you are a _flat-catching_,{1} do you, Limping

Billy--but eh, who has run away with my basket offish?”

“Ha, ha, ha,” cried Limping Billy, bursting into a horse-laugh at the

additional distress of the old woman, in which he was joined by many of

the surrounding spectators; and which so enraged her, that she let go

her hold, and bursting through the crowd with an irresistible strength,

increased almost to the fury of madness by her additional loss, she ran

some paces distance in search of, not only her stock in trade, but

her shop, shop-board, and working-tools; while the donkey-driver

boisterously vociferated after her--“Here they are six a shilling, live

mackarel O.”

This taunt of the brick-dust merchant was too much to be borne, and

brought her back again with a determination to chastise him, which she

did in a summary way, by knocking him backwards into the kennel. Billy

was not pleased at this unexpected salute, called her a drunken ----,

and endeavoured to get out of her way--“for,” said he, “I know she is a

b----dy rum customer when she gets lushy.”{2} At this moment, a sturdy

youth, about sixteen or seventeen years of age, was seen at a short

distance riding the runaway-ass back again. Billy perceiving this,

became a little more reconciled to his rough usage--swore he never would

strike a voman, so help him G----d, for that he was a man every inch of

him; and as for Mother Mapps, he'd be d----nd-if he vouldn't treat her

with all the pleasure of life; and now he had got his own ass, he vould

go along with her for to find her mackarel. Then shaking a cloud of

brick-dust from the dry parts of his apparel, with sundry portions of

mud from those parts which had most easily reached the kennel, he took

the bridle of his donkey, and bidding her come along, they toddled{3}

together to a gin-shop in Shoe Lane.

1 Flat-catching--Is an expression of very common use, and

seems almost to explain itself, being the act of taking

advantage of any person who appears ignorant and

unsuspicious.

2 Lushy--Drunk.

3 Toddle--To toddle is to walk slowly, either from

infirmity or choice--“Come, let us toddle,” is a very

familiar phrase, signifying let us be going.

~118~~Desirous of seeing an end to this bit of gig--“Come along,” said

Sparkle, “they'll all be in prime twig presently, and we shall have some

fun.

“I'm the boy for a bit of a bobbery,

Nabbing a lantern, or milling a pane;

A jolly good lark is not murder or robbery,

Let us be ready and nimble.”

Hark, (said he) there's a fiddle-scraper in the house--here goes;” and

immediately they entered.

They had no occasion to repent of their movements; for in one corner

of the tap-room sat Billy Waters, a well-known character about town,

a Black Man with a wooden leg was fiddling to a Slaughterman from

Fleet-market, in wooden shoes, who, deck'd with all the paraphernalia of

his occupation, a greasy jacket and night-cap, an apron besmeared with

mud, blood, and grease, nearly an inch thick, and a leathern girdle,

from which was suspended a case to hold his knives, and his sleeves

tuck'd up as if he had but just left the slaughter-house, was dancing in

the centre to the infinite amusement of the company, which consisted of

an old woman with periwinkles and crabs for sale in a basket--a porter

with his knot upon the table--a dustman with his broad-flapped hat, and

his bell by his side--an Irish hodman--and two poor girls, who appeared

to be greatly taken with the black fiddler, whose head was decorated

with an oil-skinned cock'd hat, and a profusion of many coloured

feathers: on the other side of the room sat a young man of

shabby-genteel appearance, reading the newspaper with close attention,

and purring forth volumes of smoke. Limping Billy and Mother Mapps were

immediately known, and room was made for their accommodation, while the

fiddler's elbow and the slaughterman's wooden shoes were kept in motion.

_Max_{l} was the order of the day, and the _sluicery_{2} in good

request. Mother Mapps was made easy by being informed the Street-keeper

had her valuables in charge, which Limping Billy promised he would

redeem. “Bring us a

1 Max--A very common term for gin.

2 Sluicery--A gin-shop or public-house: so denominated from

the lower orders of society sluicing their throats as it

were with gin, and probably derived from the old song

entitled “The Christening of Little Joey,” formerly sung

by Jemmy Dodd, of facetious memory.

“And when they had sluiced their gobs

With striving to excel wit,

The lads began to hang their nobs,*

And lip their frows** the velvet.***

* Nobs--Heads.

** Frows--Originally a Dutch word, meaning wives, or girls.

*** Velvet--The tongue.

~119~~noggin of _white tape_,{1} and fill me a pipe,” said he--“d----n

my eyes, I knowed as how it vou'd be all right enough, I never gets in

no rows whatever without getting myself out again--come, _ould chap,{2}

vet your vistle, and tip it us rum--go it my kiddy, that are's just vat

I likes_.”

“Vat's the reason I an't to have a pipe?” said Mother Mapps.

“Lord bless your heart,” said the Donkey-driver, “if I did'nt forget

you, never trust me--here, Landlord, a pipe for this here Lady.”

“Which way did the bull run?” said the Irishman.

“Bl----st me if I know,” replied Limping Billy, “for I was a

looking out for my own ass--let's have the Sprig of Shelalah, _ould

Blackymoor_--come, tune up.”

The old woman being supplied with a pipe, and the fiddler having rosined

his nerves with a glass of _blue ruin_{3} to it they went, some singing,

some whistling, and others drumming with their hands upon the table;

while Tom, Bob, and Sparkle, taking a seat at the other side of

the room, ordered a glass of brandy and water each, and enjoyed the

merriment of the scene before them, perhaps more than those actually

engaged in it. Bob was alive to every movement and every character, for

it was new, and truly interesting: and kept growing more so, for in a

few minutes Limping Billy and Mother Mapps joined the Slaughterman in

the dance, when nothing could be more grotesque and amusing. Their pipes

in their mouths--clapping of hands and snapping of fingers, formed a

curious accompaniment to the squeaking of the fiddle--the broad grin of

the Dustman, and the preposterous laugh of the

1 White Tape--Also a common term for gin, particularly among

the Ladies.

2 Ould Chap, or Ould Boy--Familiar terms of address among

flash lads, being a sort of contraction of old acquaintance,

or old friend.

3 Blue Ruin--Gin.

~120~~Irishman at the reelers in the centre, heightened the picture--more

gin--more music, and more tobacco, soon ad a visible effect upon the

party, and reeling became unavoidable. The young man reading the paper,

found it impossible to understand what he was perusing, and having

finished his pipe and his pint, made his exit, appearing to have no

relish for the entertainment, and perhaps heartily cursing both the

cause and the effect. Still, however, the party was not reduced in

number, for as one went out another came in.

This new customer was a young-looking man, bearing a large board on a

high pole, announcing the residence of a Bug-destroyer in the Strand.

His appearance was grotesque in the extreme, and could only be equalled

by the eccentricities of his manners and conversation. He was dressed

in a brown coat, close buttoned, over which he had a red camlet or stuff

surtout, apparently the off-cast of some theatrical performer, but with

a determination to appear fashionable; for

“Folks might as well be dead--nay buried too,

As not to dress and act as others do.”

He wore mustachios, a pair of green spectacles, and his whole figure was

surmounted with a fur-cap. Taking a seat directly opposite our party

at the same table--“Bring me a pint,” said he; and then deliberately

searching his pockets, he produced a short pipe and some tobacco, with

which he filled it--“You see,” said he, “I am obliged to smoke according

to the Doctor's orders, for an asthma--so I always smokes three pipes a

day, that's my allowance; but I can eat more than any man in the room,

and can dance, sing, and act--nothing conies amiss to me, all the

players takes their characters from me.”

After this introduction--“You are a clever fellow, I'll be bound for

it,” said Dashall.

“O yes, I acts Richard the Third sometimes--sometimes Macbeth and

Tom Thumb. I have played before Mr. Kean: then I acted Richard the

Third--'Give me a horse! '--(starting into the middle of the room)--'no,

stop, not so--let me see, let me see, how is it?--ah, this is the

way--Give me a horse--Oh! Oh! Oh!--then you know I dies.”--And down he

fell on the floor, which created a general roar of laughter; while

Billy Waters ~121~~struck up, “See the conquering Hero conies!” to the

inexpressible delight of all around him--their feet and hands all going

at the same time.

Mother Mapps dropp'd her pipe, and d----d the weed, it made her sick,

she said.

Limping Billy was also evidently in _queer-street_.

“Come,” said Sparkle, “won't you have a drop more?”

“Thank ye, Sir,” was the reply; and Sparkle, intent upon having his

gig out, ordered a fresh supply, which soon revived the fallen hero of

Bosworth-field, and Richard was himself again.

“Now,” said he, “I'll sing you a song,” and immediately commenced as

follows:--

“My name's Hookey Walker, I'm known very well,

In acting and eating I others excel;

The player-folks all take their patterns from me,

And a nice pattern too!--Don't you see? don't you see?

Oh! [_glancing at his fingers_] It will do--it will do.

At Chippenham born, I was left quite forlorn,

When my father was dead and my mother was gone;

So I came up to London, a nice little he,

And a nice pattern too!--Don't you see? don't you see?

Oh! it will do--it will do.

A courting I went to a girl in our court,

She laugh'd at my figure, and made me her sport;

I was cut to the soul,--so said I on my knee,

I'm a victim of love!--Don't you see? don't you see?

Oh! it won't do--it won't do.

Now all day I march to and fro in the street,

And a candle sometimes on my journey I eat;

So I'll set you a pattern, if you'll but agree,

And a nice pattern too! you shall see--you shall see.

Oh! it will do--it will do.”

This Song, which he declared was all _made out of his own head_, was

sung with grotesque action and ridiculous grimace, intended no doubt in

imitation of Mr. Wilkinson in his inimitable performance of this strange

piece of whimsicality. The dancing party was knock'd up and were lobbing

their _lollys_,{1} half asleep and half awake, on the table, bowing as

it were to the magnanimous influence

1 Lobbing their lollys--Laying their heads.

~122~~of _Old Tom_.{1} The Dustman and the Irishman laugh'd heartily;

and Das hall, Tallyho, and Sparkle, could not resist the impulse

to risibility when they contemplated the group before them. The

Bug-destroyer _munched_{2} a candle and _sluiced_{3} his greasy

_chops_{4} with _Jacky_{5} almost as fast as they could supply him

with it, when Sparkle perceiving the boy was still at the door with the

runaway ass,

“Come,” said he, “we'll start 'em off home in high style--here, you Mr.

Bugman, can you ride?”

“Ride, aye to be sure I can, any of Mr. Astley's horses as well as the

Champion of England,”{6} was the reply.

1 Old Tom--It is customary in public-houses and gin-shops

in London and its vicinity to exhibit a cask inscribed with

large letters--OLD TOM, intended to indicate the best gin in

the house.

2 Munched--Eat.

3 Sluiced--Washed. See Sluicery.

4 Chops--The mouth.

5 Jacky--A vulgar term for gin.

6 Any person would almost suspect that Hookey had been

reading the newspapers by this allusion; but that certainly

could not be the case, for, spurning all education in early

life, this representative of the immortal bard--this

character of characters from Shakespeare, could neither read

nor write, but made all he acted, as he said, from his own

head: however, it may fairly be presumed, that in the course

of his travels during the day he had heard something of the

Champion intended to appear at the approaching Coronation,

of whom the following account has recently been circulated

through the daily press, and, with his usual consistency,

conceived his own innate abilities equal to those which

might be acquired by Mr. Dymocke, though his claims were not

equally honourable or advantageous.

Mr. Dymocke, the nephew of the gentleman (who is a

Clergyman) entitled by hereditary right to do the service of

the Champion to his Majesty, is still in hopes he may be

permitted to act under his Uncle's nomination, although he

wants a few months of being of age. A petition is before the

King on the subject; and Mr. Dymocke, by constant practice

at Astley's Hiding-school, is endeavouring to qualify

himself for the due fulfilment of the office. On Thursday

lie went through his exercise in a heavy suit of armour with

great celerity. The horse which will be rode by the Champion

has been selected from Mr. Astley's troop. It is a fine

animal, pieballed black and white, and is regularly

exercised in the part he will have to perform.

“Walk in--walk in, Ladies and Gentlemen, just going to begin--come, Mr.

Merryman, all ready--Ladies and Gentlemen, please to observe, this here

horse is not that there horse.”

“So we laugh at John Bull a little.”

~123~~“Come, then,” continued Sparkle, “another glass--half-a-crown to

ride to the bottom of the lane and up Holboru-hill on that donkey at the

door, and you shall be our Champion.”

“A bargain--a bargain,” said the assumed Hookey Walker, rubbing the

tallow from his _gills_.{1}

“Here goes then,” said Sparkle; then slipping half-a-crown into the

boy's hand, desiring him to run as far as the Traveller-office, in

Fleet-street, and get him a newspaper, promising to take care of his

ass till his return. The lad nibbled the bait, and was off in a _pig's

whisper_{2} Sparkle called to Tom and Bob, and putting them up to

his scheme, Hookey was quickly mounted, while Dashall and his Cousin,

assisted by the Hibernian and Dust-ho, succeeded in getting Mother Mapps

out, who was placed in the front of the Champion, astride, with her face

towards him and Limping Billy, who though _beat to a stand still_,{3}

was after some difficulty lifted up behind. Hookey was then supplied

with his board, the pole of which he placed on his foot, in the manner

of a spear or lance. Then giving the Irishman and the Dustman some

silver, to act as Supporters or Esquires, one on each side, they

proceeded along Shoe-lane, preceded by Billy Waters flourishing his

wooden-leg and feathers, and fiddling as he went--the Irishman roaring

out with Stentorian lungs,

“Sure won't you hear

What roaring cheer

Was spread at Paddy's wedding O,

And how so gay

They spent the day,

From the churching to the bedding O.

First book in hand came Father Quipes,

With the Bride's dadda, the Bailey O,

While all the way to church the pipes

Struck up a jilt so gaily O.

“_Kim ap_--be after sitting fast in the front there, old Mapps, or

you'll make a mud-lark of yourself.” The Dustman rang his bell; and thus

accompanied with an immense assemblage of boys, girls, men, women, and

1 Gills--The mouth.

2 Pig's Whisper--A very common term for speed.

3 Beat to a dead stand still--Means completely unable to

assist himself.

~124~~children, collected from all the courts and alleys in the

neighbourhood, joining in a chorus of shouts that rent the air, poor

Balaam continued to bear his load; while our party, after watching them

till nearly out of sight, passed down Harp-alley into Fleet-market,” and

turning to the right, very soon regained Fleet-Street, laughing heartily

at the bull's cookery of mackarel buttered with brick-dust, and very

well satisfied with their spree.

Engaged in conversation upon this adventure, they found nothing of

interest' or amusement to attract their notice till they arrived at the

warehouse of the London Genuine Tea Company, except merely remarking the

grand appearance of St. Paul's, from that situation.

“Genuine tea” said Bob; “what can that mean--Is tea any thing but tea?”

“To be sure it is,” said Sparkle, “or has been--_any_thing but tea,”{l}

strongly marking the latter part of the

1 Tea and Coffee--The adulteration of articles of human food

is a practice of the most nefarious description, and cannot

be too strongly deprecated, although it has been carried to

an alarming extent. There is scarcely an article of ordinary

consumption but has been unlawfully adulterated, and in many

cases rendered injurious by the infamous and fraudulent

practice of interested persons. Bread, which is considered

to be the staff of life, and beer and ale the universal

beverage of the people of this country, are known to be

frequently mixed with drugs of the most pernicious quality.

Gin, that favourite and heart-inspiring cordial of the lower

orders of society, that it may have the grip, or the

appearance of being particularly strong, is frequently

adulterated with the decoction of long pepper, or a small

quantity of aqua-fortis, a deadly poison. Sugar has been

known to be mixed with sand; and tobacco, for the public-

houses, undergoes a process for making it strong and

intoxicating; but the recent discovery of the nefarious

practice of adulterating tea and coffee, articles of the

most universal and extensive consumption, deserves

particular reprehension.

Tea has been adulterated by the introduction of dried sloe

leaves; the practice is not very new, but its extensive

adoption, and the deleterious properties ascribed to them by

physicians, have been, at length, successfully exposed by

the conviction of many of the venders, so, it is hoped, as

to prevent a repetition of the crime. The sloe leaf, though

a spurious commodity when sold as tea, might afford a

harmless vegetable infusion, and be recommended to the poor

and frugal as a cheap succedaneum for the Chinese vegetable.

The establishment of the Genuine Tea Company on Ludgate-hill

originated in the recent discoveries, promising to sell

nothing but the Unadulterated Tea, and it is sincerely to be

hoped has done some good.

~125~~sentence as he spoke it: “horse-beans have been converted to

coffee, and sloe-leaves have been transformed into tea; hog's lard has

been manufactured for butter; an ingenious gentleman wishes to persuade

us _Periwinkles_{1} are young Lobsters; and another has proposed to

extract sugar, and some say brandy, out of pea-shells! London is the

mart for inventions and discoveries of all kinds, and every one of its

inhabitants appears to have studied something of the art of Legerdemain,

to catch the eye and deceive the senses.”

“Wonderful!” exclaimed Bob.

“Not more wonderful than true,” continued Sparkle; “invention is always

on the stretch in London. Here we have cast-iron Bridges{2}--a cast-iron

Sugar-house--

1 Sparkle appears to have been rather sceptical on the

subject of Periwinkles being young Lobsters, though the

opinion is not very new. A gentleman, whose indefatigable

research appears to be deserving of encouragement and

support, has recently issued the following advertisement,

inviting the curious and the learned to inspect the result

of his discoveries, which seems, at least, to warrant

something more than conjecture.

“J. Cleghorne having in his possession some specimens which

prove, in his opinion, a circumstance before suggested, but

treated by the scientific as a vulgar error, any known

naturalist willing to view them, by noticing by letter,

within a week, may have J. C. attend with his specimens. The

subject is a curious change in the formation of Lobsters

from various species of the Winkle, the Winkle being

considered the larva;.

The only advantage J. C. desires from the communication is,

the credit of advancing his proofs, and the stimulating

further enquiry.--A line addressed to J. Cleghorne,

Architectural Engraver, No. 19, Chapman-street, Black-road,

Islington, will have immediate attention.”

It is sincerely to be hoped that proper notice will be taken

of this advertisement, for in times of general scarcity like

the present, such a discovery might be turned to great

national advantage, by the establishment of proper depots

for the cultivation of lobsters, as we have preserves for

game, &c.

2 Cast-iron has become an object of general utility. The

Southwark or New London Bridge consists of three arches, the

centre of which is a span of 240 feet, and the other two 210

feet each; the Vauxhall Bridge consists of nine arches, over

a width of 809 feet; and it is a fact, that a Sugar-house is

building with cast-iron floors, window-frames, and rafters,

to prevent fire. Cast-iron holds fire and resists fire; but

it is probable that all its properties and powers are not

yet discovered, and that we may some day or other witness

the ascension of a cast-iron balloon inflated with steam!

~126~~coaches running, and barges, packets, and sailing-boats navigated,

by Steam{1}--St. Paul's, as you perceive, without its ball--smoke

burning itself, and money burning men's consciences.”

“Well done, Sparkle!” cried Tom; “your ideas seem to flow like gas,

touch but the valve and off you go; and you are equally diffusive, for

you throw a light upon all subjects.”

Bob was now suddenly attracted by a full view of himself and his friends

at the further end of Everington's{2}

1 Steam--Here is a subject that evaporates as we approach;

it soars beyond finite comprehension, and appears to be

inexhaustible--every thing is done by it--machinery of every

kind is set in motion by it--a newspaper of the most

extensive circulation in the kingdom is printed by it, and

the paper supplied sheet by sheet to receive the impression.

Tobacco is manufactured, and sausage-meat cut, by steam--

nay, a celebrated Vender of the latter article had asserted,

that his machinery was in such a state of progressive

improvement, that he had little doubt before long of making

it supply the demands of his customers, and thereby save the

expense of a Shopman; but, it is much to be regretted, his

apparatus made sausage-meat of him before the accomplishment

of his project.

Considering the increasing, and by some Philosophers almost

overwhelming population of the country at the present

moment, it is certainly an alarming circumstance, that when

employment is so much required, mechanical science should so

completely supersede it to the injury of thousands,

independent of the many who have lost their lives by the

blowing up of steam-engines. It is a malady however which

must be left to our political economists, who will

doubtless at the same time determine which would prove the

most effectual remedy--the recommendation of Mr. Malthus to

condemn the lower orders to celibacy--the Jack Tars to a

good war--or the Ministers to emigration.

2 If an estimate of the wealth or poverty of the nation

were to lie formed from the appearance of the houses in the

Metropolis, no one could be induced to believe that the

latter had any existence among us. The splendour and taste

of our streets is indescribable, and the vast improvements

in the West are equally indicative of the former.

The enormous increase of rents for Shops, particularly in

the leading thoroughfares of London, may in a great measure

be attributed to the Linen-drapers. The usual method

practised by some of these gentry, is to take a shop in the

first-rate situation, pull down the old front, and erect a

new one, regardless of expense, a good outside being

considered the first and indispensable requisite. This is

often effected, either upon credit with a builder, or, if

they have a capital of a few hundreds, it is all exhausted

in external decorations. Goods are obtained upon credit, and

customers procured by puffing advertisements, and exciting

astonishment at the splendid appearance of the front. Thus

the concern is generally carried on till the credit obtained

has expired, and the wonder and novelty of the concern has

evaporated; when the stock is _sold off at 30 per cent,

under prime cost for the benefit of the creditors_! This is

so common an occurrence, that it is scarcely possible to

walk through London any day in the year, without being

attracted by numerous Linen-drapers' shops, whose windows

are decorated with bills, indicating that they are actually

selling off under prime cost, as the premises must be

cleared in a few days.

The most elegant Shop of this description in the Metropolis

is supposed to be one not a hundred miles from Ludgate-hill,

the front and fitting up of which alone is said to have cost

several thousand pounds. The interior is nearly all of

looking-glass, with gilt mouldings; even the ceiling is

looking-glass, from which is appended splendid cut-glass

chandeliers, which when lighted give to the whole the

brilliance of enchantment; however it is not very easy to

form an idea of what is sold, for, with the exception of a

shawl or two carelessly thrown into the window, there is

nothing to be seen, (the stock being all concealed in

drawers, cupboards, &c. ) except the decorations and the

Dandy Shopmen, who parade up and down in a state of ecstasy

at the reflection of their own pretty persons from every

part of the premises!

This concealment of the stock has occasioned some laughable

occurrences. It is said that a gentleman from the country

accidentally passing, took it for a looking-glass

manufactory, and went in to inquire the price of a glass.

The Shopmen gathered round him with evident surprise,

assured him of his mistake, and directed him to go to

Blades,{1} lower down the Hill. The Countryman was not

disconcerted, but, after surveying them somewhat minutely,

informed them it was glass he wanted, not cutlery; but as

for blades, he thought there were enow there for one street,

at least.

Another is said to have been so pleased with a row of

grotesque Indian-China jars, which embellish one side of the

entrance, and which he mistook for _pots de chambre_, that

after returning home and consulting his rib, he sent an

order per post for one of the most elegant pattern to be

forwarded to him!

There is a similar Shop to this, though on a smaller scale,

to be seen in a great leading thoroughfare at the West end

of the Town; the owner of which, from his swarthy complexion

and extravagant mode of dress, has been denominated The

Black Prince, a name by which he is well known in his own

neighbourhood, and among the gentlemen of the cloth. This

dandy gentleman, who affects the dress and air of a military

officer, has the egregious vanity to boast that the numerous

families of rank and fashion who frequent his shop, are

principally attracted to view his elegant person, and seems

to consider that upon this principally depends the success

of his trade.

1 A large Glass-manufacturer.

128--shop, and without observing the other persons about him, saw

himself surrounded with spectators, unconscious of being in their

company. He look'd up--he look'd down--he gazed around him, and all was

inconceivable light. Tom's allusion to the gas flashed upon him in a

moment--“What--what is this?” said he--“where, in the name of wonder, am

I?” A flash of lightning could not have operated more suddenly upon him.

“Why,” said Sparkle, “don't you see?

“You are not here, for you are there,”

pointing to his reflection, in the looking-glass.

“Egad,” said Bob, under evident surprise, and perhaps not without

some apprehension they were playing tricks with him--“I wish you would

explain--is this a Drawing-room, or is it the _Phantasmagoria_ we have

heard so much of in the country?”

“No, no, it is not the Phantasmagoria, but it forms a part of

metropolitan magic, which you shall be better acquainted with before we

part. That is no other than a Linen-draper's shop, '_papered_,' as

an Irishman one day remarked, 'vvid nothing at all at all but

looking-glass, my dear '--one of the most superb things of the kind that

perhaps ever was seen--But come, I perceive it is getting late, let us

proceed directly to Dolly's, take our chop, then a _rattler_,{1} and hey

for the Spell.”{2}

Bob appeared almost to be spell-bound at the moment, and, as they moved

onward, could not help casting

“One longing, lingering look behind.”

1 Rattler--A coach.

2 Spell--The Play-house; so denominated from its variety of

attractions, both before and behind the curtain.

CHAPTER X

“What various swains our motley walls contain!

Fashion from Moorfields, honour from Chick-lane;

Bankers from Paper-buildings here resort,

Bankrupts from Golden-square and Riches-court;

From the Haymarket canting rogues in grain,

Gulls from the Poultry, sots from Water-lane;

The lottery cormorant, the auction shark,

The full-price master, and the half-price clerk;

Boys, who long linger at the gallery-door,

With pence twice live, they want but twopence more,

Till some Samaritan the twopence spares,

And sends them jumping up the gallery-stairs.

Critics we boast, who ne'er their malice baulk,

But talk their minds--we wish they'd mind their talk;

Big-worded bullies, who by quarrels live,

Who give the lie, and tell the lie they give;

Jews from St. Mary-Axe, for jobs so wary,

That for old clothes they'd even axe St. Mary;

And Bucks with pockets empty as their pate,

Lax in their gaiters, laxer in their gait.

Say, why these Babel strains from Babel tongues?

Who's that calls “Silence” with such leathern lungs?

He, who, in quest of quiet, “Silence” hoots,

Is apt to make the hubbub he imputes.”

IN a few minutes they entered Dolly's, from whence, after partaking of a

cheerful repast and an exhilarating glass of wine, a coach conveyed them

to Drury-lane. ',

“Now,” said the Hon. Tom Dashall, “I shall introduce you to a new scene

in Real Life, well worth your close observation. We have already taken

a promiscuous ramble from the West towards the East, and it has afforded

some amusement; but our stock is abundant, and many objects of curiosity

are still in view.”

“Yes, yes,” continued Sparkle, “every day produces novelty; for although

London itself is always the same, the inhabitants assume various forms,

as inclination or necessity may induce or compel. The Charioteer of

~130~~to-day, dashing along with four in hand, may be an inhabitant of

the King's-bench to-morrow, and--but here we are, and Marino Faliero is

the order of the night. The character of its author is so well known, as

to require no observation; but you will be introduced to a great variety

of other characters, both in High and Low Life, of an interesting

nature.”

By this time they had alighted, and were entering the House. The rapid

succession of carriages arriving with the company, the splendour of the

equipages, the general elegance of the dresses, and the blazing of the

lamps, alternately became objects of attraction to Bob, whose eyes were

kept in constant motion--while “A Bill of the Play for Covent Garden or

Drury Lane,” still resounded in their ears.

[Illustration: page130 Drury Lane Theatre]

On arriving at the Box-lobby, Tom, who was well known, was immediately

shewn into the centre box with great politeness by the Box-keeper,{1}

the second scene of the Tragedy being just over. The appearance of the

House was a delicious treat to Bob, whose visual orbs wandered more

among the delighted and delightful faces which surrounded him, than to

the plot or the progress of the performances before him. It was a scene

of splendour of which lie had not the least conception; and Sparkle

perceiving the principal objects of attraction, could not resist the

impulse to deliver, in a sort of half-whisper, the following lines:--

“When Woman's soft smile all our senses bewilders,

And gilds while it carves her dear form on the heart,

What need has new Drury of carvers and gilders?

With nature so bounteous, why call upon art?

1 The Box-keeper to a public Theatre has many duties to

perform to the public, his employer, and himself; but,

perhaps, in order to be strictly correct, we ought to have

reversed the order in which we have noticed them, since of

the three, the latter appears to be the most important, (at

least) in his consideration; for he takes care before the

commencement of the performance to place one of his

automaton figures on the second row of every box, which

commands a good view of the House, who are merely intended

to sit with their hats off, and to signify that the two

first seats are taken, till the conclusion of the second

act; and so in point of fact they are taken by himself, for

the accommodation of such friends as he is quite aware are

willing to accommodate him with _a quid pro quo_.

How well would our Actors attend to their duties,

Our House save in oil, and our Authors in wit,

In lieu of yon lamps, if a row of young Beauties

Glanc'd light from their eyes between us and the Pit.

The apples that grew on the fruit-tree of knowledge

By Woman were pluck'd, and she still wears the prize,

To tempt us in Theatre, Senate, or College--

I mean the Love-apples that bloom in the eyes.

There too is the lash which, all statutes controlling,

Still governs the slaves that are made by the Fair,

For Man is the pupil who, while her eye's rolling,

Is lifted to rapture, or sunk in despair.”

~131~~Tallyho eagerly listened to his friend's recitation of lines so

consonant with his own enraptured feelings; while his Cousin Dashall was

holding a conversation in dumb-show with some person at a distance,

who was presently recognized by Sparkle to be Mrs. G----den,{1} a

well-known frequenter of the House.

“Come,” said he, “I see how it is with Tom--you may rely upon it he

will not stop long where he is, there is other game in view--he has but

little taste for Tragedy fiction, the Realities of Life are the objects

of his regard.

“Tis a fine Tragedy,” continued he, addressing himself to Tom.

“Yes--yes,” replied the other, “I dare say it is, but, upon my soul,

I know nothing about it--that is--I have seen it before, and I mean to

read it.”

“Bless my heart!” said a fat lady in a back seat, “what a noise them

'are gentlemen does make--they talk so loud there 'ant no such thing

as seeing what is said--I wonder they don't make these here boxes more

bigger, for I declare I'm so scrouged I'm all in a--Fanny, did you bring

the rumperella for fear it should rain as we goes home?”

“Hush, Mother,” said a plump-faced little girl, who sat along side of

her--“don't talk so loud, or otherwise every body will hear you instead

of the Performers, and that would be quite preposterous.”

“Don't call me _posterous_ Miss; because you have been to school, and

learnt some _edification_, you thinks you are to do as you please with

me.”

1 Mrs. G----den, a dashing Cyprian of the first order, well

known in the House, a fine, well-made woman, always ready

for a lark, and generally well togged.

~132~~This interesting conversation was interrupted by loud

vociferations of Bravo, Bravo, from all parts of the House, as the

drop-scene fell upon the conclusion of the second act. The clapping of

hands, the whistling and noise that ensued for a few minutes, appeared

to astonish Tallyho. “I don't much like my seat,” said Dashall. “No,”

said Sparkle, “I did not much expect you would remain long--you are a

mighty ambitious sort of fellow, and I perceive you have a desire to be

exalted.”

“I confess the situation, is too confined,” replied Tom--“come, it is

excessively warm here, let us take a turn and catch a little air.”

The House was crowded in every part; for the announcement of a new

Tragedy from the pen of Lord Byron, particularly under the circumstances

of its introduction to the Stage, against the expressed inclination of

its Author, the

1 At an early hour on the evening this Tragedy was first

pro-duced at Drury Lane, Hand-bills were plentifully

distributed through the Theatre, of which the following is a

copy:

“The public are respectfully informed, that the

representation of Lord Byron's Tragedy, The Doge of Venice,

this evening, takes place in defiance of the injunction from

the Lord Chancellor, which was not applied for until the

remonstrance of the Publisher, at the earnest desire of the

noble Author, had failed in protecting that Drama from its

intrusion on the Stage, for which it was never intended.”

This announcement had the effect of exciting public

expectation beyond its usual pitch upon such occasions. The

circumstances were somewhat new in the history of the Drama:

the question being, whether a published Flay could be

legally brought on the Stage without the consent, or rather

we should say, in defiance of the Author. “We are not aware

whether this question has been absolutely decided, but this

we do know, that the Piece was performed several nights, and

underwent all the puffing of the adventurous Manager, as

well as all the severity of the Critics. The newspapers of

the day were filled with histories and observations upon it.

No subject engrossed the conversation of the polite and

play-going part of the community but Lord Byron, The Doge of

Venice, and Mr. Elliston. They were all bepraised and

beplastered--exalted and debased--acquitted and condemned;

but it was generally allowed on all hands, that the printed

Tragedy contained many striking beauties, notwithstanding

its alleged resemblance to Venice Preserved. We are,

however, speaking of the acted Tragedy, and the magnanimous

Manager, who with such promptitude produced it in an altered

shape; and having already alluded to the theatrical puffing

so constantly resorted to upon all occasions, we shall drop

the curtain upon the subject, after merely remarking, that

the Times of the same day has been known to contain the

Manager's puff, declaring the piece to have been

received with rapturous applause, in direct opposition

to the Editor's critique, which as unequivocally pronounced

its complete failure!

~133~~will of its publisher, and the injunction{1} of the Lord

Chancellor, were attractions of no ordinary nature; and

1 Injunction--The word injunction implies a great deal, and

has in its sound so much of the terrific, as in many

instances to paralyze exertion on the part of the supposed

offending person or persons. It has been made the instrument

of artful, designing, and malicious persons, aided by

pettifogging or pretended attorneys, to obtain money for

themselves and clients by way of compromise; and in numerous

instances it is well known that fear has been construed into

actual guilt. Injunctions are become so common, that even

penny printsellers have lately issued threats, and promised

actual proceedings, against the venders of articles said to

be copies from their original drawings, and even carried it

so far as to withhold (kind souls!) the execution of their

promises, upon the payment of a 5L. from those who were

easily to be duped, having no inclination to encounter the

glorious uncertainty of the law, or no time to spare for

litigation. We have recently been furnished with a curious

case which occurred in Utopia, where it appears by our

informant, that the laws hold great similarity with our own.

A certain house of considerable respectability had imported

a large quantity of Welsh cheese, which were packed in

wooden boxes, and offered them for sale (a great rarity in

Eutopia) as double Gloucester.

It is said that two of a trade seldom agree; how far the

adage may apply to Eutopia, will be seen in the sequel. A

tradesman, residing in the next street, a short time after,

received an importation from Gloucester, of the favourite

double production of that place, packed in a similar way,

and (as was very natural for a tradesman to do, at least we

know it is so here,) the latter immediately began to vend

his cheese as the real Double Gloucester. This was an

offence beyond bearing. The High Court of Equity was moved,

similar we suppose to our High Court of Chancery, to

suppress the sale of the latter; but as no proof of

deception could be produced, it was not granted. This only

increased the flame already excited in the breasts of the

first importers; every effort was made use of to find a good

and sufficient excuse to petition the Court again, and at

length they found out one of the craft to swear, that as the

real Gloucester had been imported in boxes of a similar

shape, make, and wood, it was quite evident that the

possessor must have bought similar cheeses, and was imposing

on the public to their great disadvantage, notwithstanding

they could not find a similarity either of taste, smell, or

appearance. In the mean time the real Gloucester cheese

became a general favourite with the inhabit-ants of Utopia,

and upon this, though slender ground, the innocent tradesman

was served with a process, enjoining him not to do that,

which, poor man, he never intended to do; and besides if he

had, the people of that country were not such ignoramuses as

to be so deceived; it was merely to restrain him from

selling his own real double Gloucester as their Welsh

cheeses, purporting, as they did, to be double Gloucester,

or of mixing them together (than which nothing could be

further from his thoughts,) and charging him at the same

time with having sold his cheeses under their name. But the

most curious part of the business was, the real cheeseman

brought the investigation before the Court, cheeses in boxes

were produced, and evidence was brought forward, when, as

the charges alleged could not be substantiated, the

restraint was removed, and the three importers of Welsh

cheese hung their heads, and retired in dudgeon.

134~~the Hon. Tom availed himself of the circumstance to leave the Box,

though the truth was, there were other attractions of a more enlivening

cast in his view.

“Come,” said he, “we shall have a better opportunity of seeing the

House, and its decorations, by getting nearer to the curtain; besides,

Ave shall have a bird's-eye view of the company in all quarters, from

the seat of the Gods to the Pit.”

The influx of company, (it being the time of half-price), and the

rush and confusion which took place in all parts at this moment, were

indescribable. Jumping over boxes and obtaining seats by any means,

regardless of politeness or even of decorum--Bucks and Bloods warm

from the pleasures of the bottle--dashing Belles and flaming Beaux,

squabbling and almost fighting--rendered the amusements before the

curtain of a momentary interest, which appeared to obliterate the

recollection of what they had previously witnessed. In the mean time,

the Gods in the Gallery issued forth an abundant variety of discordant

sounds, from their elevated situation. Growling of bears, grunting of

hogs, braying of donkeys, gobbling of turkeys, hissing of geese,

the catcall, and the loud shrill whistle, were heard in one mingling

concatenation of excellent imitation and undistinguished variety: During

which, Tom led the way to the upper Boxes, where upon arriving, he

was evidently disappointed at not meeting the party who had been

seen occupying a seat on the left side of the House, besides having

sacrificed a front seat, to be now compelled to take one at the very

back part of a side Box, an exchange by no means advantageous for a view

of the performance. However, this was compensated in some degree by a

more extensive prospect round the House; and his eyes were seen moving

in all directions, without seeming to know where to fix, while Sparkle

and Bob were attracted by a fight in the Gallery, between a Soldier and

a Gentleman's Servant in livery, for some supposed ~135~~insult offered

to the companion of the latter, and which promised serious results

from the repeated vociferations of those around them, of “Throw 'em

over--throw 'em over;” while the gifts of the Gods were plentifully

showered down upon the inhabitants of the lower regions in the shape

of orange-peelings, apples, &c. The drawing up of the curtain however

seemed to have some little effect upon the audience, and in a moment the

Babel of tongues was changed into a pretty general cry of “Down--down

in the front--hats off--silence, &c. which at length subsided in every

quarter but the Gallery, where still some mutterings and murmurings were

at intervals to be heard.

“----one fiddle will

Produce a tiny flourish still.”

Sparkle could neither see nor hear the performance--Tom was wholly

engaged in observing the company, and Bob alternately straining his neck

to get a view of the Stage, and then towards the noisy inhabitants of

the upper regions. “We dined at the Hummums,” said a finicking little

Gentleman just below him--“Bill, and I, and Harry--drank claret like

fishes--Harry was half-sprung--fell out with a Parson about chopping

logic; you know Harry's father was a butcher, and used to chopping,

so it was all prime--the Parson would'n't be convinced, though Harry

knock'd down his argument with his knuckles on the table, almost hard

enough to split it--it was a bang-up lark--Harry got in a passion,

doff'd his toggery, and was going to show fight--so then the Parson

sneak'd off--Such a bit of gig.'”

“Silence there, behind.”

“So then,” continued the Dandy, “we went to the Billiard-rooms, in Fleet

Street, played three games, diddled the Flats, bilk'd the Marker, and

bolted--I say, when did you see Dolly?”{1}

1 To the frequenters of Drury-lane Theatre, who occasionally

lounge away a little of their time between the acts in

sipping soda-water, negus, &c. the party here alluded to

cannot but be well known--we mean particularly the laffing-

boys and the lads of the village. We are aware that

fictitious names are assumed or given to the Ladies of

Saloon notoriety, originating in particular circum-stances,

and we have reason to believe that Dolly K----lly has been

so denominated from the propensity she almost invariably

manifests of painting, as remarked particularly by one of

the parties in conversation.

~136~~“Last night,” replied the other--“she'll be here

presently--d----nd fine girl, arn't she?”

“Very well,” said the first; “a nice plump face, but then she paints

so d--n--bly, I hate your painted Dollys, give me natural flesh and

blood--Polly H--ward for me.”

“Gallows Tom{1} will speak to you in plain terms if you trespass there,

my boy; you know he has out-general'd the Captain in that quarter, and

came off victorious, so----”

“Come,” said Sparkle, “let us adjourn into the Saloon, for, Heaven

knows, it is useless staying here.” And taking their arms, they

immediately left the Box.

“The theatre,” continued he, “is a sort of enchanted island, where

nothing appears as it really is, nor what it should be. In London, it is

a sort of time-killer, or exchange of looks and smiles. It is frequented

by persons of all degrees and qualities whatsoever. Here Lords come

to laugh and be laughed at--Knights to learn the amorous smirk and

a-la-mode grin, the newest fashion in the cut of his garments, the twist

of his body, and the adjustment of his phiz.

“This House{2} was built upon a grand and extensive scale, designed and

executed under the inspection of Mr. Benj. Wyatt, the architect, whose

skill was powerfully and liberally aided by an intelligent and public

spirited Committee, of which the late Mr. Whitbread was the Chairman. It

is altogether a master-piece of art, and an ornament to the Metropolis.

You perceive the interior is truly delightful, and the exterior presents

the idea of solidity and security: it affords sitting room for 2810

persons, that is, 1200 in the Boxes, 850 in the Pit, 480

1 It appears that the adoption of fictitious names is not

wholly confined to the female visitors of these regions of

fashion and folly. Gallows Tom is a character well known,

and is a sort of general friend, at all times full of fun,

fire, and spirit. We have not been able to discover whether

he holds any official situation under government, though it

is generally believed he is safely anchored under the croum,

a stanch friend to the British constitution--probably more

so than to his own. And we should judge from what is to be

inferred from the conversation overheard, that he is the

acknowledged friend of Miss H----d. Capt. T----pe is

supposed to hold a Commission in the Navy, a gay and gallant

frequenter of the Saloon, and, till a short time back, the

chere ami of Miss H----d.

2 The building of this Theatre was completed for 112,000L.

Including lamps, furniture, &c. 125,000L.; and including

scent ry, wardrobe, properties, &c. 150,000L.

~137~~in the Lower Gallery, and 280 in the Upper Gallery. The talents of

the celebrated Mr. Kean (who has recently left us for the shores of the

Atlantic) first blazed forth to astonish the world beneath this roof.

Old Drury immortalized the name of Garrick, and has also established the

fame of Mr. Kean; and the House at the present moment has to boast of a

combination of histrionic{1} talent, rich and excellent.”

“Come along, come along,” said Tom, interrupting him, “leave these

explanations for another opportunity--here is the Saloon. Now for a peep

at old particulars. There is no seeing nor hearing the Play--I have no

inclination for histories, I am just alive for a bit of gig.”

On entering the Saloon, Bob was additionally gratified at viewing

the splendour of its decorations. The arched ceiling, the two massy

Corinthian columns of _vera antique_, and the ten corresponding

pilasters on each side, struck him as particularly beautiful, and he was

for some moments lost in contemplation, while his friends Sparkle and

Tom were in immediate request to receive the congratulations of their

acquaintance.

“Where the d----l have you been to?” was the first question addressed

to Dashall--“rusticating, I suppose, to the serious loss of all polished

society.”

“You are right in the first part of your reply,” said Tom; “but, as I

conceive, not exactly so in the inference you draw from it.”

“Modesty, by Jove! well done Dashall, this travelling appears to improve

your manners wonderfully; and I dare say if you had staid away another

month, your old friends would not have known you.”

This created a laugh among the party, which roused Bob from his reverie,

who, turning round rather hastily, trod with considerable force upon

the gouty toe of an old debauchee in spectacles, who, in the height

of ecstasy, was at that moment entering into a treaty of amity with a

pretty rosy-faced little girl, and chucking her under the

1 The names of Elliston, Pope, Johnston, Powell, Dowton,

Munden, Holland, Wallack, Knight, T. Cooke, Oxberry, Smith,

Bromley, &c. are to be found on the male list of Performers,

and it is sincerely to be hoped that of Mr. Kean will not

long be absent. The females are, Mrs. Davison, Mrs. Glover,

Miss Kelly, Mrs. Bland, Mrs. Orger, Mrs. Sparks, Miss

Wilson, Miss Byrne, Miss Cubitt, &c.

~138~~chin, as a sort of preliminary, to be succeeded by a ratification;

for in all probability gratification was out of the question. However

this might be, the pain occasioned by the sudden movement of Tallyho,

who had not yet learned to trip it lightly along the _mutton walk_,{1}

induced the sufferer to roar out most lustily, a circumstance which

immediately attracted the attention of every one in the room, and in a

moment they were surrounded by a group of lads and lasses.

[Illustration: page138 Tom and Bob at Drury Lane]

“Upon my soul, Sir,” stammer'd out Bob, “I beg your pardon, I--I--did

not mean--”

“Oh! oh! oh!” continued the gouty Amoroso. Mother K----p{2} came

running like lightning with a glass of water; the frail sisterhood

were laughing, nodding, whispering, and winking at each other; while

St----ns,{3} who pick'd up the spectacles the unfortunate victim of

the gout had dropp'd, swore that fellow in the green coat and white

hat ought to be sent to some dancing-school, to learn to step without

kicking people's shins.

Another declared he was a Johnny-raw,{4} just catched, and what could be

expected.

Tom, who, however, kept himself alive to the passing occurrences,

stepping up to Bob, was immediately recognized by all around him, and

passing a significant wink, declared it was an accident, and begged to

assist the Old Buck to a seat, which being accomplished, he declared

he had not had his shoe on for a week, but as he found himself able to

walk, he could not resist the temptation of taking a look around him.

Over a bottle of wine the unpleasant impressions made by this

unfortunate occurrence appeared to be removed. In the mean time, Tom

received a hundred congratulations and salutations; while Sparkle, after

a glass or two, was missing.

Dashall informed the friends around him, that his Cousin was a pupil of

his, and begged to introduce him

1 Mutton Walk--A flash term recently adopted to denominate

the Saloon.

2 A well known fruit-woman, who is in constant attendance,

well acquainted with the girls and their protectors, and

ready upon all occasions to give or convey information for

the benefit of both parties.

3 St----ns--A very pretty round-faced young lady-bird, of

rather small figure, inclining to be lusty.

4 Johnny Raw--A country bumpkin.

~139~~as a future visitor to this gay scene. This had an instantaneous

effect upon the trading fair ones, who began immediately to throw out

their lures. One declared he had a sweet pretty brooch; another, that

she knew he was a trump by the cut of his jib; a third, that he look'd

like a gentleman, for she liked the make of his mug; a fourth, that his

hat was a very pretty shaped one, although it was of a radical colour;

and while Tom and the ladybird{l} were soothing the pains of the

grey-headed wanton, Bob was as busily employed in handing about the

contents of the bottle. A second and a third succeeded, and it was not

a little astonishing to him that every bottle improved his appearance;

for, though not one of his admirers remained long with him, yet the

absence of one only brought another, equally attracted by his look and

manner: every one declared he was really a gentleman in every respect,

and in the course of their short parley, did not fail to slip a card

into his hand. By this time he began to grow chatty, and was enabled

to rally in turn the observations they made. He swore he lov'd them all

round, and once or twice hummed over,

“Dear creatures, we can't do without them,

They're all that is sweet and seducing to man,

Looking, sighing about, and about them,

We doat on them--do for them, all that we can.”

The play being over, brought a considerable influx of company into

the Saloon. The regular covies paired off with their covesses, and the

moving panorama of elegance and fashion presented a scene that was truly

delightful to Bob.

The Ladybird, who had been so attentive to the gouty customer, now

wished him a good night, for, said she, “There is my friend,{2} and so I

am off.” This seemed only to increase the agony of his already agonized

toe, notwithstanding which he presently toddled off, and was seen no

more for the evening.

“What's become of Sparkle,” enquired Tom. “Stole away,” was the reply.

“Tipp'd us the double, has he,” said Dashall. “Well, what think you of

Drury-lane?”

1 Lady-bird--A dashing Cyprian.

2 The term friend is in constant use among accessible

ladies, and signifies their protector or keeper.

~140~~“'Tis a very delightful tragedy indeed, but performed in the most

comical manner I ever witnessed in my life.”

“Pshaw!” said Bob, “very few indeed, except the critics and the plebs,

come here to look at the play; they come to see and be seen.”

“Egad then,” said Bob, “a great many have been gratified to-night, and

perhaps I have been highly honoured, for every person that has passed me

has complimented me with a stare.”

“Which of course you did not fail to return?”

“Certainly not; and upon my soul you have a choice show of fruit here.”

“Yes,” continued Tom, “London is a sort of hot-house, where fruit is

forced into ripeness by the fostering and liberal sun of Folly, sooner

than it would be, if left to its natural growth. Here however, you

observe nothing but joyful and animated features, while perhaps the

vulture of misery is gnawing at the heart. I could give you histories of

several of these unfortunates,{1}

1 A life of prostitution is a life fraught with too many

miseries to be collected in any moderate compass. The mode

in which they are treated, by parties who live upon the

produce of their infamy, the rude and boisterous, nay, often

brutal manner in which they are used by those with whom they

occasionally associate, and the horrible reflections of

their own minds, are too frequently and too fatally

attempted to be obliterated by recourse to the Bacchanalian

fount. Reason becomes obscured, and all decency and

propriety abandoned. Passion rules predominantly until it

extinguishes itself, and leaves the wretched victim of early

delusion, vitiated both in body and mind, to drag on a

miserable existence, without character, without friends, and

almost without hope. There is unfortunately, however, no

occasion for the exercise of imagination on this subject.

The annals of our police occurrences, furnish too many

examples of actual circumstances, deeply to be deplored; and

we have selected one of a most atrocious kind which recently

took place, and is recorded as follows:--

_Prostitution_.

“An unfortunate girl, apparently about eighteen years of

age, and of the most interesting and handsome person, but

whose attire indicated extreme poverty and distress, applied

to the sitting magistrate, Richard Bimie, Esq. under the

following circum-stances:--It appeared from the statement,

that she had for the last three weeks been living at a house

of ill fame in Exeter-street, Strand, kept by a man named

James Locke: this wretch had exacted the enormous sum of

three guineas per week for her board and lodging, and in

consequence of her not being able to pay the sum due for the

last week, he threatened to strip her of her cloaths, and

turn her naked into the street. This threat he deferred

executing until yesterday morning (having in the mean time

kept her locked up in a dark room, without any covering

whatever,) when in lieu of her cloaths, he gave her the

tattered and loathsome garments she then appeared in, which

were barely sufficient to preserve common decency, and then

brutally turned her into the street. Being thus plunged into

the most abject wretchedness, without money or friends, to

whom she could apply in her present situation, her bodily

strength exhausted by the dissipated life she had led, and

rendered more so by a long abstinence from food; her spirits

broken and overcome by the bitter and humiliating

reflection, that her own guilty conduct debarred her from

flying to the fostering arms of affectionate parents, whom

she had loaded with disgrace and misery; and the now

inevitable exposure of her infamy, it was some time ere her

wandering senses were sufficiently composed to determine

what course she should pursue in the present emergency, when

she thought she could not do better than have recourse to

the justice of her country against the villain Lock, who had

so basely treated her; and after extreme pain and

difficulty, she succeeded in dragging her enfeebled limbs to

the Office. During the detail of the foregoing particulars,

she seemed overwhelmed with shame and remorse, and at times

sobbed so violently as to render her voice inarticulate. Her

piteous case excited the attention and sympathy of all

present; and it was much to the general satisfaction that

Mr. Bimie ordered Humphries, one of the conductors of the

Patrol, to fetch Lock to the Office. On being brought there,

the necessary proceedings were gone into for the purpose of

indicting the house as a common brothel.

“It was afterwards discovered that this unhappy girl was of

the most respectable parents, and for the last six years had

been residing with her Aunt. About three months ago, some

difference having arisen between them, she absconded, taking

with her only a few shillings, and the clothes she then

wore. The first night of her remaining from home she went to

Drury-lane Theatre, and was there pick'd up by a genteel

woman dressed in black, who having learned her situation,

enticed her to a house in Hart-street, Covent-garden, where

the ruin of the poor girl was finally effected. It was not

until she had immersed herself in vice and folly that she

reflected on her situation, and it was then too late to

retract; and after suffering unheard of miseries, was, in

the short space of three months, reduced to her present

state of wretchedness.

“The worthy Magistrate ordered that proper care should be

taken of the girl, which was readily undertaken on the part

of the parish.

“The Prisoner set up a defence, in which he said, a friend

of the girl's owed him 14L. and that he detained her clothes

for it--but was stopped by Mr. Bimie.

“He at first treated the matter very lightly; but on

perceiving the determination on the part of the parish to

proceed, he offered to give up the things. This however he

was not allowed to do.”

(who are exercising all their arts to entrap customers) apparently full

of life and vivacity, who perhaps dare not approach ~142~~their homes

without the produce of their successful blandishments. But this is not a

place for moralizing--a truce to Old Care and the Blue Devils--Come on,

my boy, let us take a turn in the Lobby--

“Banish sorrow, griefs a folly;

Saturn, bend thy wrinkled brow;

Get thee hence, dull Melancholy,

Mirth and wine invite us now.

Love displays his mine of treasure,

Comus brings us mirth and song!;

Follow, follow, follow pleasure,

Let us join the jovial throng.”

Upon this they adjourned to the Lobby, where a repetition of similar

circumstances took place, with only this difference, that Tally ho

having already been seen in the Saloon, and now introduced, leaning upon

the arm of his Cousin, the enticing goddesses of pleasure hung

around them at every step, every one anxious to be foremost in their

assiduities to catch the new-comer's smile; and the odds were almost a

cornucopia to a cabbage-net that Bob would be hook'd.

Tom was still evidently disappointed, and after pacing the Lobby once or

twice, and whispering Bob to make his observations the subject of future

inquiry, they returned to the Saloon, where Sparkle met them almost out

of breath, declaring he had been hunting them in all parts of the House

for the last half hour.

Tom laugh'd heartily at this, and complimented Sparkle on the ingenuity

with which he managed his affairs. “But I see how it is,” said he, “and

I naturally suppose you are engaged.”

“'Suspicion ever haunts the guilty mind,' and I perceive clearly that

you are only disappointed that you are not engaged--where are all your

_golden_{1} dreams now?”

“Pshaw! there is no such thing as speaking to you,” said Tom, rather

peevishly, “without feeling a lash like a cart-whip.”

1 This was a touch of the satirical which it appears did not

exactly suit the taste of Dashall, as it applied to the

Ladybird who had attracted his attention on entering the

house.

~143~~“Merely in return,” continued Sparkle, “for the genteel, not to

say gentle manner, in which you handle the horse-whip.”

“There is something very mulish in all this,” said Bob, interrupting the

conversation, “I don't understand it.”

“Nor I neither,” said Tom, leaving the arm of his Cousin, and stepping

forward.

This hasty dismissal of the subject under debate had been occasioned by

the appearance of a Lady, whose arm Tom immediately took upon leaving

that of his cousin, a circumstance which seemed to restore harmony to

all parties. Tallyho and Sparkle soon joined them, and after a few turns

for the purpose of seeing, and being seen, it was proposed to adjourn

to the Oyster-shop directly opposite the front of the Theatre; and with

that view they in a short time departed, but not without an addition of

two other ladies, selected from the numerous frequenters of the Saloon,

most of whom appeared to be well known both to Tom and Sparkle.

The appearance of the outside was very pleasing--the brilliance of the

lights--the neat and cleanly style in which its contents were displayed

seemed inviting to appetite, and in a very short time a cheerful repast

was served up; while the room was progressively filling with company,

and Mother P----was kept in constant activity.

Bob was highly gratified with the company, and the manner in which they

were entertained.

A vast crowd of dashing young Beaux and elegantly dressed Belles,

calling about them for oysters, lobsters, salmon, shrimps, bread

and butter, soda-water, ginger-beer, &c. kept up a sort of running

accompaniment to the general conversation in which they were engaged;

when the mirth and hilarity of the room was for a moment delayed upon

the appearance of a dashing Blade, who seemed as he entered to say to

himself,

“Plebeians, avaunt! I have altered my plan, Metamorphosed completely,

behold a Fine Man! That is, throughout town I am grown quite the rage,

The meteor of fashion, the Buck of the age.”

He was dressed in the extreme of fashion, and seemed desirous of

imparting the idea of his great importance to all around him: he had

a light-coloured great-coat with immense mother o' pearl buttons

and double ~144~~capes, Buff or Petersham breeches, and coat of

_sky-blue_,{1} his hat cocked on one side, and stout ground-ashen stick

in his hand. It was plain to be seen that the juice of the grape had

been operative upon the upper story, as he reeled to the further end of

the room, and, calling the attendant, desired her to bring him a bottle

of soda-water, for he was _lushy_,{2} by G----d; then throwing himself

into a box, which he alone occupied, he stretched himself at length on

the seat, and seemed as if he would go to sleep.

“That (said Sparkle) is a distinguished Member of the Tilbury Club, and

is denominated a Ruffian, a kind of character that gains ground, as to

numbers, over the Exquisite, but he is very different in polish.

1 A partiality to these coloured habits is undoubtedly

intended to impress upon the minds of plebeian beholders an

exalted idea of their own consequence, or to prove, perhaps,

that their conceptions are as superior to common ones as the

sky is to the earth.

2 The variety of denominations that have at different times

been given to drunkenness forms an admirable specimen of

ingenuity well worthy of remark. The derivation of Lushy, we

believe, is from a very common expression, that a drunken

man votes for Lushington; but perhaps it would be rather

difficult to discover the origin of many terms made use of

to express a jolly good fellow, and no flincher under the

effects of good fellowship. It is said--that he is drunk,

intoxicated, fuddled, muddled, flustered, rocky, reely,

tipsy, merry, half-boosy, top-heavy, chuck-full, cup-sprung,

pot-valiant, maudlin, a little how came you so, groggy,

jolly, rather mightitity, in drink, in his cups, high, in

uubibus, under the table, slew'd, cut, merry, queer, quisby,

sew'd up, over-taken, elevated, cast away, concerned, half-

coek'd, exhilarated, on a merry pin, a little in the suds,

in a quandary, wing'd as wise as Solomon.

It is also said, that he has business on both sides of the way, got his

little hat on, bung'd his eye, been in the sun, got a spur in his head,

(this is frequently used by brother Jockeys to each other) got a crumb

in his beard, had a little, had enough, got more than he can carry, been

among the Philistines, lost his legs, been in a storm, got his night-cap

on, got his skin full, had a cup too much, had his cold tea, a red eye,

got his dose, a pinch of snuff in his wig, overdone it, taken draps,

taking a lunar, sugar in his eye, had his wig oil'd, that he is diddled,

dish'd and done up.

He clips the King's English, sees double, reels, heels a little, heels

and sets, shews his hob-nails, looks as if he couldn't help it, takes an

observation, chases geese, loves a drap, and cannot sport a right line,

can't walk a chalk.

He is as drunk as a piper, drunk as an owl, drunk as David's sow, drunk

as a lord, fuddled as an ape, merry as a grig, happy as a king.

145~~“In the higher circles, a Ruffian is one of the many

mushroom-productions which the sun of prosperity brings to life. Stout

in general is his appearance, but Dame Nature has done little for him,

and Fortune has spoilt even that little. To resemble his groom and his

coachman is his highest ambition. He is a perfect horseman, a perfect

whip, but takes care never to be a perfect gentleman. His principal

accomplishments are sporting, swaggering, milling, drawing, and

greeking.{1} He takes the ribands in his hands, mounts his box, with

Missus by his side--“All right, ya hip, my hearties”--drives his empty

mail with four prime tits--cuts out a Johnny-raw--shakes his head, and

lolls out his tongue at him; and if he don't break his own neck, gets

safe home after his morning's drive.

“He is always accompanied by a brace at least of dogs in his morning

visits; and it is not easy to determine on these occasions which is the

most troublesome animal of the two, the biped or the quadruped.”

This description caused a laugh among the Ladybirds, who thought it

vastly amusing, while it was also listened to with great attention by

Tallyho.

The Hon. Tom Dashall in the mean time was in close conversation with his

mott{2} in the corner of the Box, and was getting, as Sparkle observed,

“rather nutty{3} in that quarter of the globe.”

The laugh which concluded Sparkle's account of the Tilbury-club man

roused him from his sleep, and also attracted the attention of Tom and

his inamorata.

“D----n my eyes,” said the fancy cove, as he rubbed open his

peepers,{4}” am I awake or asleep?--what a h----ll of a light there

is!”

1 Greeking--An epithet generally applied to gambling and

gamblers, among the polished hells of society, principally

to be found in and near St. James's: but of this more

hereafter.

2 Mott--A blowen, or woman of the town. We know not from

whom or whence the word originated, but we recollect some

lines of an old song in which the term is made use of, viz.

“When first I saw this flaming Mutt,

'Twas at the sign of the Pewter Pot;

We call'd for some Purl, and we had it hot,

With Gin and Bitters too.”

3 Nutty--Amorous.

4 An elegant and expressive term for the eyes.

~146~~This was followed immediately by the rattling of an engine with

two torches, accompanied by an immense concourse of people following it

at full speed past the window.

“It is well lit, by Jove,” said the sleeper awake, “where ever it is;”

and with that he tipp'd the _slavey_{1}1 a tanner,{2} and mizzled.

The noise and confusion outside of the House completely put a stop to

all harmony and comfort within.

“It must be near us,” said Tom.

“It is Covent Garden Theatre, in my opinion,” said Sparkle.

Bob said nothing, but kept looking about him in a sort

of wild surprise.

“However,” said Tom, “wherever it is, we must go and have a peep.”

“You are a very gallant fellow, truly,” said one of the bewitchers--“I

thought--”

“And so did I,” said Tom--“but 'rest the babe--the time it shall

come'--never mind, we won't be disappointed; but here, (said he) as I

belong to the Tip and Toddle Club, I don't mean to disgrace my calling,

by forgetting my duty.” And slipping a something into her hand, her note

was immediately changed into,

“Well, I always thought you was a trump, and I likes a man that behaves

like a gentleman.”

Something of the same kind was going on between the other two, which

proved completely satisfactory.

“So then, Mr. Author, it seems you have raised a fire to stew the

oysters, and leave your Readers to feast upon the blaze.”

“Hold for a moment, and be not so testy, and for your satisfaction I can

solemnly promise, that if the oysters are stewed, you shall have good

and sufficient notice of the moment they are to be on table--But, bless

my heart, how the fire rages!--I can neither spare time nor wind to

parley a moment longer--Tom and Bob have already started off with the

velocity of a race-horse, and if I lose them, I should cut but a poor

figure with my Readers afterward.

“Pray, Sir, can you tell me where the fire is?” 'Really, Sir, I don't

know, but I am told it is somewhere by Whitechapel.'

1 Slaveys--Servants of either sex.

2 Tanner--A flash term for a sixpence.

~147~~“Could you inform me Madam, whereabouts the fire is?”

'Westminster Road, Sir, as I am informed.' “Westminster, and

Whitechapel--some little difference of opinion I find as usual--however,

I have just caught sight of Tom, and he's sure to be on the right scent;

so adieu, Mr. Reader, for the present, and have no doubt but I shall

soon be able to throw further light on the subject.”

CHAPTER XI

“Some folks in the streets, by the Lord, made me stare,

So comical, droll, is the dress that they wear,

For the Gentlemen's waists are atop of their backs,

And their large cassock trowsers they tit just like sacks.

Then the Ladies--their dresses are equally queer,

They wear such large bonnets, no face can appear:

It puts me in mind, now don't think I'm a joker,

Of a coal-scuttle stuck on the head of a poker.

In their bonnets they wear of green leaves such a power,

It puts me in mind of a great cauliflower;

And their legs, 1 am sure, must be ready to freeze,

For they wear all their petticoats up to their knees.

They carry large bags full of trinkets and lockets,

'Cause the fashion is now not to wear any pockets;

“While to keep off the flies, and to hide from beholders,

A large cabbage-net is thrown over their shoulders.”

~148~~IN a moment all was consternation, confusion, and alarm. The

brilliant light that illuminated the surrounding buildings presented

a scene of dazzling splendour, mingled with sensations of horror

not easily to be described. The rattling of engines, the flashing of

torches, and the shouting of thousands, by whom they were followed and

surrounded, all combined to give lively interest to the circumstance.

It was quickly ascertained that the dreadful conflagration had taken

place at an extensive Timber-yard, within a very short distance of

the Theatres, situated as it were nearly in the centre, between Covent

Garden and Drury Lane. Men, women, and children, were seen running in

all directions; and report, with his ten thousand tongues, here found an

opportunity for the exercise of them all; assertion and denial followed

each other in rapid succession, while the flames continued to increase.

Our party being thus abruptly disturbed in their anticipated enjoyments,

bade adieu to their Doxies,{1}

1 Doxies--A flash term frequently made use of to denominate

ladies of easy virtue.

~149~~and rushed forward to the spot, where they witnessed the devouring

ravages of the yet unquenched element, consuming with resistless force

all that came in its way.

“Button up,” said Tom, “and let us keep together, for upon these

occasions,

“The Scamps,{1} the Pads,{2} the Divers,{3} are all upon the lay.”{4}

The Flash Molishers,{5} in the vicinity of Drury Lane, were out in

parties, and it was reasonable to suppose, that where there was so much

heat, considerable thirst must also prevail; consequently the Sluiceries

were all in high request, every one of those in the neighbourhood being

able to boast of overflowing Houses, without any imputation upon their

veracity. We say nothing of elegant genteel, or enlightened audiences,

so frequently introduced in the Bills from other houses in the

neighbourhood; even the door-ways were block'd up with the collectors

and imparters of information. Prognostications as to how and where it

began, how it would end, and the property that would be consumed, were

to be met at every corner--Snuffy Tabbies, and Boosy Kids, some giving

way to jocularity, and others indulging in lamentations.

“Hot, hot, hot, all hot,” said a Black man, as he pushed in and out

among the crowd; with “Hoot awa', the de'il tak your soul, mon, don't

you think we are all hot eneugh?--gin ye bring more hot here I'll crack

your croon--I've been roasting alive for the last half hoor, an' want to

be ganging, but I can't get out.”

“Hot, hot, hot, all hot, Ladies and Gentlemen,” said the dingy dealer

in delicacies, and almost as soon disappeared among the crowd, where he

found better opportunities for vending his rarities.

“Lumps of pudding,” said Tom, jerking Tallyho by the arm, “what do you

think of a slice? here's accommodation for you--all hot, ready dress'd,

and well done.”

“Egad!” said Bob, “I think we shall be well done ourselves presently.”

“Keep your hands out of my pockets, you lousy beggar,”

1 Scamps--Highwaymen.

2 Pads--Foot-pads.

3 Divers--Pickpockets.

4 The Lay--Upon the look-out for opportunities for the

exercise of their profession.

5 Flash Molishers--a term given to low Prostitutes.

~150~~said a tall man standing near them, “or b---- me if I don't mill

you.”

“You mill me, vhy you don't know how to go about it, Mr. Bully Brag, and

I doesn't care half a farden for you--you go for to say as how I--”

“Take that, then,” said the other, and gave him a floorer; but he was

prevented from falling by those around him.

The salute was returned in good earnest, and a random sort of fight

ensued. The accompaniments of this exhibition were the shrieks of the

women, and the shouts of the partisans of each of the Bruisers--the

cries of “Go it, little one--stick to it--tip it him--sarve him

out--ring, ring--give 'em room--foul, foul--fair, fair,” &c.” At this

moment the Firemen, who had been actively engaged in endeavours to

subdue the devouring flames, obtained a supply of water: the engines

were set to work, and the Foreman directed the pipe so as to throw the

water completely into the mob which had collected round them. This had

the desired effect of putting an end to the squabble, and dispersing

a large portion of the multitude, at least to some distance, so as to

leave good and sufficient room for their operations.

“The Devil take it,” cried Sparkle, “I am drench'd.”

“Ditto repeated,” said Tom.

“Curse the fellow,” cried Bob, “I am sopp'd.”

“Never mind,” continued Tom,

. . . “By fellowship in woe,

Scarce half our pain we know.”

“Since we are all in it, there is no laughing allowed.”

In a short time, the water flowed through the street in torrents; the

pumping of the engines, and the calls of the Firemen, were all

the noises that could be heard, except now and then the arrival of

additional assistance.

Bob watched minutely the skill and activity of those robust and hardy

men, who were seen in all directions upon the tops of houses, &c. near

the calamitous scene, giving information to those below; and he was

astonished to see the rapidity with which they effected their object.

Having ascertained as far as they could the extent of the damage,

and that no lives were lost, Tom proposed a move, and Sparkle gladly

seconded the motion--“for,” said he, “I am so wet, though I cannot

complain of being ~151~~cold, that I think I resemble the fat man who

seemed something like two single gentlemen roll'd into one,' and 'who

after half a year's baking declared he had been so cursed hot, he was

sure he'd caught cold;' so come along.”

“Past twelve o'clock,” said a Charley, about three parts sprung, and

who appeared to have more light in his head than he could shew from his

lantern.

“Stop thief, stop thief,” was vociferated behind them; and the night

music, the rattles, were in immediate use in several quarters--a rush of

the crowd almost knock'd Bob off his pins, and he would certainly have

fell to the ground, but his nob{l} came with so much force against the

bread-basket{2} of the groggy guardian of the night, that he was turn'd

keel upwards,{3} and rolled with his lantern, staff, and rattle, into

the overflowing kennel; a circumstance which perhaps had really no

bad effect, for in all probability it brought the sober senses of the

Charley a little more into action than the juice of the juniper had

previously allowed. He was dragged from his birth, and his coat, which

was of the blanket kind, brought with it a plentiful supply of the

moistening fluid, being literally sous'd from head to foot.

Bob fished for the _darkey_{4}--the _musical instrument_{5}--and the

post of honour, alias the _supporter of peace_;{6} but he was not yet

complete, for he had dropped his _canister-cap_,{7} which was at length

found by a flash molisher, and drawn from the pool, full of water, who

appeared to know him, and swore he was one of the best fellows on any of

the beats round about; and that they had got hold of a Fire-prigger,{8}

and bundled{9} him off to St. Giles's watch-house, because he was

bolting with a _bag of togs_.

1 Nob--The head.

2 Bread-basket--The stomach.

3 Keel upwards--Originally a sea phrase, and most in use

among sailors, &c.

4 Darkey--Generally made use of to signify a dark lantern.

5 Musical instrument--a rattle.

6 Post of honour, or supporter of his peace--Stick, or

cudgel.

7 “Canister-cap--& hat.

8 Fire-prigger--No beast of prey can be more noxious to

society or destitute of feeling than those who plunder the

unfortunate sufferers under that dreadful and destructive

calamity, fire. The tiger who leaps on the unguarded

passenger will fly from the fire, and the traveller shall be

protected by it; while these wretches, who attend on fires,

and rob the unfortunate sufferers under pretence of

coming to give assistance, and assuming the style and manner

of neighbours, take advantage of distress and confusion.

Such wretches have a more eminent claim to the detestation

of society, than almost any other of those who prey upon it.

9 Bundled--Took, or conveyed.

~152~~The feeble old scout shook his dripping wardrobe, d----d the

water and the boosy kid that wallof'd him into it, but without appearing

to know which was him; till Bob stepped up, and passing some silver into

his mawley, told him he hoped he was not hurt. And our party then, moved

on in the direction for Russel-street, Covent-garden, when Sparkle again

mentioned his wet condition, and particularly recommended a glass of

Cogniac by way of preventive from taking cold. “A good motion well made

(said Tom;) and here we are just by the Harp, where we can be fitted to

a shaving; so come along.”

Having taken this, as Sparkle observed, very necessary precaution,

they pursued their way towards Piccadilly, taking their route under the

Piazzas of Covent-garden, and thence up James-street into Long-acre,

where they were amused by a circumstance of no very uncommon kind in

London, but perfectly new to Tallyho. Two Charleys had in close custody

a sturdy young man (who was surrounded by several others,) and was

taking him to the neighbouring watch-house “What is the matter?” said

Tom.

“Oh, 'tis only a little bit of a dead body-snatcher,” said one of the

guardians. “He has been up to the resurrection rig.{1} Here,” continued

he, “I've got the bone-basket,”

1 Resurrection rig--This subject, though a grave one, has

been treated by many with a degree of comicality calculated

to excite considerable risibility. A late well known

humorist has related the following anecdote:

Some young men, who had been out upon the spree, returning

home pretty well primed after drinking plentifully, found

themselves so dry as they passed a public house where they

were well known, they could not resist the desire they had

of calling on their old friend, and taking a glass of brandy

with him by way of finish, as they termed it; and finding

the door open, though it was late, were tempted to walk in.

But their old friend was out of temper. “What is the

matter?”--“Matter enough,” replied Boniface; “here have I

got an old fool of a fellow occupying my parlour dead drunk,

and what the devil to do with him I don't know. He can

neither walk nor speak.”

“Oh,” said one of the party, who knew that a resurrection

Doctor resided in the next street, “I'll remove that

nuisance, if that's all you have to complain of; only lend

me a sack, and I'll sell him.”

A sack was produced, and the Bacchanalian, who

almost appeared void of animation, was without much

difficulty thrust into it. “Give me a lift,” said the

frolicsome blade, and away he went with the load. On

arriving at the doctor's door, he pulled the night bell,

when the Assistant made his appearance, not un-accustomed to

this sort of nocturnal visitant.

~153~~holding up a bag, “and it was taken off his shoulder as he went

along Mercer-street, so he can't say nothing at all.

“I have brought you a subject--all right.”

“Come in. What is it, a man or a woman?”

“A man.”

“Down with him--that corner. D----n it, I was fast asleep.

“Call for the sack in the morning, will you, for I want to get to bed.”

“With all my heart.”

Then going to a drawer, and bringing the customary fee, “Here, (said he)

be quick and be off.” This was exactly what the other wanted; and having

secured the rubbish,{1} the door was shut upon him. This, however,

was no sooner done, than the Boosy Kid in the sack, feeling a sudden

internal turn of the contents of his stomach, which brought with it a

heaving, fell, from the upright situation in which he had been placed,

on the floor. This so alarmed the young Doctor, that he ran with all

speed after the vender, and just coming up to him at the corner of the

street.

“Why, (said he) you have left me a living man!”

“Never mind, (replied the other;) kill him when you want him.” And

making good use of his heels he quickly disappeared.

A Comedian of some celebrity, but who is now too old for theatrical

service, relates a circumstance which occurred to him upon his first

arrival in town:--

Having entered into an engagement to appear upon the boards of one of

the London Theatres, he sought the metropolis some short time before the

opening of the House; and conceiving it necessary to his profession

to study life--real life as it is,--he was accustomed to mingle

promiscuously in almost all society. With this view he frequently

entered the tap rooms of the lowest public houses, to enjoy his pipe and

his pint, keeping the main object always in view--

“To catch the manners living as they rise.”

Calling one evening at one of these houses, not far from Drury Lane, he

found some strapping fellows engaged in conversation, interlarded with

much flash and low slang; but decently dressed, he mingled in a sort of

general dialogue with them on the state of the weather, politics, &c.

After sitting some time in their company, and particularly noticing

their persons and apparent character--

“Come, Bill, it is time to be off, it is getting rather

darkish.” “Ah, very well (replied the other,) let us have

another quart, and then I am your man for a bit of a lark.”

By this time they had learned that the Comedian was but

newly arrived in town; and he on the other hand was desirous

of seeing what they meant to be up to. After another quart

they were about to move, when, said one to the other, “As we

are only going to have a stroll and a bit of fun, perhaps

that there young man would like to join us.”

“Ah, what say you, Sir? have you any objection? but perhaps

you have business on hand and are engaged--”

“No, I have nothing particular to do,” was the reply. “Very

well, then if you like to go with us, we shall be glad of

your company.”

“Well (said he,) I don't care if I do spend an hour with

you.” And with that they sallied forth.

After rambling about for some time in the vicinity of

Tottenham Court Road, shewing him some of the Squares, &c.

describing the names of streets, squares, and buildings,

they approached St. Giles's, and leading him under a

gateway, “Stop, (said one) we must call upon Jack, you know,

for old acquaintance sake,” and gave a loud knock at the

door; which being opened without a word, they all walked in,

and the door was instantly lock'd. He was now introduced to

a man of squalid appearance, with whom they all shook hands:

the mode of introduction was not however of so satis-factory

a description as had been expected, being very laconic, and

conveyed in the following language:--“We have got him.”

“Yes, yes, it is all right--come, Jack, serve us out some

grog, and then to business.”

The poor Comedian in the mean time was left in the utmost

anxiety and surprise to form an opinion of his situation;

for as he had heard something about trepanning, pressing,

&c. he could not help entertaining serious suspicion that he

should either be com-pelled to serve as a soldier or a

sailor; and as he had no intention “to gain a name in arms,”

they were neither of them suitable to his inclinations.

“Come,” (said one) walk up stairs and sit down--Jack, bring

the lush “--and up stairs they went.

Upon entering a gloomy room, somewhat large, with only a

small candle, he had not much opportunity of discovering

what sort of a place it was, though it looked wretched

enough. The grog was brought--“Here's all round the grave-

stone, (said one)--come, drink away, my hearty--don't be

alarm'd, we are rum fellows, and we'll put you up to a rig

or two--we are got a rum covey in the corner there, and you

must lend us a hand to get rid of him:” then, holding up the

light, what was the surprise of the poor Comedian to espy a

dead body of a man--“You can help us to get him away, and

by G----you shall, too, it's of no use to flinch now.”

A circumstance of this kind was new to him, so that his

perplexity was only increased by the discovery; but he

plainly perceived by the last declaration, that having

engaged in the business, it would be of no use to leave it

half done: he therefore remained silent upon the subject,

drank his grog, when Jack came up stairs to say the cart was

ready.

“Lend a hand, (said one of them) let us get our load down

stairs--come, my Master, turn to with a good heart, all's

right.”

With this the body was conveyed down stairs.

At the back of the house was a small yard separated from a

neighbouring street by a wall--a signal was given by some

one on the other side which was understood by those within--

it was approaching nine o'clock, and a dark night--“Come,

(said one of them,) mount you to the top of the wall, and

ding the covey over to the carcass-carter.” This being

complied with, the dead body was handed up to him, which was

no sooner done than the Carman outside, perceiving the

Watchman approach--“It von't do,” said he, and giving a

whistle, drove his cart with an assumed air of carelessness

away; while the poor Comedian, who had a new character to

support, in which he did not conceive himself well up,{1}

was holding the dead man on his lap with the legs projecting

over the wall; it was a situation of the utmost delicacy and

there was no time to recast the part, he was therefore,

obliged to blunder through it as well as he could; the

perspiration of the living man fell plentifully on the

features of the dead as the Charley approached in a position

to pass directly under him. Those inside had sought the

shelter of the house, telling him to remain quiet till the

old Scout was gone by. Now although he was not fully

acquainted with the consequences of discovery, he was

willing and anxious to avoid them: he therefore took the

advice, and scarcely moved or breathed--“Past nine o'clock,”

said the Watchman, as he passed under the legs of the dead

body without looking up, though he was within an inch of

having his castor brushed off by them. Being thus relieved,

he was happy to see the cart return; he handed over the

unpleasant burthen, and as quick as possible afterwards

descended from his elevated situation into the street,

determining at all hazards to see the result of this to him

extraordinary adventure; with this view he followed the cart

at a short distance, keeping his eye upon it as he went

along; and in one of the streets leading to Long Acre, he

perceived a man endeavouring to look into the back part of

the cart, but was diverted from his object by one of the men

who had introduced him to the house, while another of the

confederates snatched the body from the cart, and ran with

all speed down another street in an opposite direction. This

movement had attracted the notice of the Watchman, who,

being prompt in his movements, had sprung his rattle. Upon

this, and feeling himself too heavily laden to secure his

retreat, the fellow with the dead man perceiving the gate of

an area open, dropped his burden down the steps, slam'd the

gate after him, and continued to fly, but was stopped at the

end of the street; in the mean time the Charley in pursuit

had knock'd at the door of the house where the stolen goods

(as he supposed) were deposited.

1 A cant phrase for money.

It was kept by an old maiden lady, who, upon discovering the

dead body of a man upon her premises, had fainted in the

Watchman's arms. The detection of the running

Resurrectionist was followed by a walk to the watch-house,

where his companions endeavoured to make it appear that they

had all been dining at Wandsworth together, that he was not

the person against whom the hue and cry had been raised. But

_old Snoosey_{l} said it wouldn't do, and he was therefore

detained to appear before the Magistrate in the morning. The

Comedian, who had minutely watched their proceedings, took

care to be at Bow-street in good time; where he found upon

the affidavits of two of his comrades, who swore they had

dined together at Wandsworth, their pal was liberated.

1 The Constable of the night.

156~~Bob could not very well understand what was the meaning of this

lingo; he was perfectly at a loss to comprehend the terms of deadbody

snatching and the resurrection rig. The crowd increased as they went

along; and as they did not exactly relish their company, Sparkle led.

them across the way, and then proceeded to explain.

“Why,” said Sparkle, “the custom of dead-body snatching has become

very common in London, and in many cases appears to be winked at by the

Magistrates; for although it is considered a felony in law, it is also

acknowledged in some degree to be necessary for the Surgeons, in

order to have an opportunity of obtaining practical information. It is

however, at the same time, a source of no slight distress to the parents

and friends of the parties who are dragg'd from the peaceful security of

the tomb. The _Resurrection-men_ are generally well rewarded for their

labours by the Surgeons who employ them to procure subjects; they are

for the most part fellows who never stick at trifles, but make a decent

livelihood by moving off, if they can, not only the bodies, but coffins,

shrouds, &c. and are always upon the look-out wherever there is a

funeral--nay, there have been instances in which the bodies have been

dug from their graves within a few hours after being deposited there.”

“It is a shameful practice,” said Bob, “and ought not to be tolerated,

however; nor can I conceive how, with the apparent vigilance of the

Police, it can be carried on.”

“Nothing more easy,” said Sparkle, “where the plan is well laid. These

fellows, when they hear a passing-bell toll, skulk about the parish from

ale-house to ale-house, till ~157~~they can learn a proper account of

what the deceased died of, what condition the body is in, &c. with which

account they go to a _Resurrection Doctor_, who agrees for a price,

which is mostly five guineas, for the body of a man, and then bargain

with an Undertaker for the shroud, coffin, &c. which, perhaps with a

little alteration, may serve to run through the whole family.”

“And is it possible,” said Bob, “that there are persons who will enter

into such bargains?”

“No doubt of it; nay, there was an instance of a man really selling his

own body to a Surgeon, to be appropriated to his own purposes when dead,

for a certain weekly sum secured to him while living; but in robbing

the church-yards there are always many engaged in the rig--for notice is

generally given that the body will be removed in the night, to which the

Sexton is made privy, and receives the information with as much ease as

he did to have it brought--his price being a guinea for the use of the

_grubbing irons_, adjusting the grave, &c. This system is generally

carried on in little country church-yards within a few miles of London.

A hackney-coach or a cart is ready to receive the stolen property, and

there cannot be a doubt but many of these depredations are attended with

success, the parties escaping with their prey undetected--nay, I know

of an instance that occurred a short time back, of a young man who was

buried at Wesley's Chapel, on which occasion one of the mourners, a

little more wary than the rest, could not help observing two or three

rough fellows in the ground during the ceremony, which aroused his

suspicion that they intended after interment to have the body of his

departed friend; this idea became so strongly rooted in his mind, that

he imparted his suspicions to the remainder of those who had followed

him: himself and another therefore determined if possible to satisfy

themselves upon the point, by returning in the dusk of the evening to

reconnoitre. They accordingly proceeded to the spot, but the gates being

shut, one of them climbed to the top of the wall, where he discovered

the very parties, he had before noticed, in the act of wrenching open

the coffin. Here they are, said he, hard at it, as I expected. But

before he and his friend could get over the wall, the villains

effected their escape, leaving behind them a capacious sack and all the

implements of their infernal trade. They secured the body, had ~158~~it

conveyed home again, and in a few days re-buried it in a place of

greater security.{1}

Bob was surprised at this description of the _Resurrection-rig_, but was

quickly drawn from his contemplation of the depravity of human nature,

and what he could not help thinking the dirty employments of life, by

a shouting apparently from several voices as they passed the end of

St. Martin's Lane: it came from about eight persons, who appeared to be

journeymen mechanics, with pipes in their mouths, some of them rather

_rorytorious_,{2} who, as they approached, broke altogether into the

following

SONG.{3}

“I'm a frolicsome young fellow, I live at my ease,

I work when I like, and I play when I please;

I'm frolicsome, good-natured--I'm happy and free,

And I care not a jot what the world thinks of me.

With my bottle and glass some hours I pass,

Sometimes with my friend, and sometimes with my lass:

I'm frolicsome, good-natur'd--I'm happy and free,

And I don't care one jot what the world thinks of me.

By the cares of the nation I'll ne'er be perplex'd,

I'm always good-natur'd, e'en though I am vex'd;

I'm frolicsome, good-humour'd--I'm happy and free,

And I don't care one d----n what the world thinks of me.

1 A circumstance very similar to the one here narrated by

Sparkle actually occurred, and can be well authenticated.

2 Rorytorious--Noisy.

3 This song is not introduced for the elegance of its

composition, but as the Author has actually heard it in the

streets at the flight of night or the peep of day, sung in

full chorus, as plain as the fumes of the pipes and the

hiccups would allow the choristers at those hours to

articulate; and as it is probably the effusion of some

Shopmate in unison with the sentiments of many, it forms

part of Real Life deserving of being recorded in this Work.

Particular trades have particular songs suitable to the

employment in which they are engaged, which while at work

the whole of the parties will join in. In Spitalfields,

Bethnal-green, &c. principally inhabited by weavers, it is

no uncommon thing to hear twenty or thirty girls singing,

with their shuttles going--The Death of Barbary Allen--There

was an old Astrologer--Mary's Dream, or Death and the Lady;

and we remember a Watch-maker who never objected to hear his

boys sing; but although he was himself a loyal subject, he

declared he could not bear God Save the King; and upon being

ask'd his reason--Why, said he, it is too slow--for as the

time goes, so the fingers move--Give us _Drops of Brandy_,

or _Go to the Devil and Shake Yourself_--then I shall have

some work done.

~159~~This Song, which was repeated three or four times, was continued

till their arrival at Newport-market, where the Songsters divided: our

party pursued their way through Coventry-street, and arrived without

further adventure or interruption safely at home. Sparkle bade them

adieu, and proceeded to Bond-street; and Tom and Bob sought the repose

of the pillow.

It is said that “Music hath charms to sooth the savage breast,” and it

cannot but be allowed that the _Yo heave ho_, of our Sailors, or the

sound of a fiddle, contribute much to the speed of weighing anchor.

It is an indisputable fact that there are few causes which more

decidedly form, or at least there are few evidences which more clearly

indicate, the true character of a nation, than its Songs and Ballads. It

has been observed by the learned Selden, that you may see which way the

wind sets by throwing a straw up into the air, when you cannot make the

same discovery by tossing up a stone or other weighty substance. Thus it

is with Songs and Ballads, respecting the state of public feeling, when

productions of a more elaborate nature fail in their elucidations: so

much so that it is related of a great Statesman, who was fully convinced

of the truth of the observation, that he said, “Give me the making of

the national Ballads, and I care not who frames your Laws.” Every day's

experience tends to prove the power which the _sphere-born_ Sisters of

harmony, voice, and verse, have over the human mind. “I would rather,”

says Mr. Sheridan, “have written Glover's song of 'Hosier's Ghost' than

the Annals of Tacitus.”~160~~

CHAPTER XII

O what a town, what a wonderful Metropolis!

Sure such a town as this was never seen;

Mayor, common councilmen, citizens and populace,

Wand'ring from Poplar to Turnham Green.

Chapels, churches, synagogues, distilleries and county banks--

Poets, Jews and gentlemen, apothecaries, mountebanks--

There's Bethlem Hospital, and there the Picture Gallery;

And there's Sadler's Wells, and there the Court of Chancery.

O such a town, such a wonderful Metropolis,

Sure such a town as this was never seen!

O such a town, and such a heap of carriages,

Sure such a motley group was never seen;

Such a swarm of young and old, of buryings and marriages,

All the world seems occupied in ceaseless din.

There's the Bench, and there's the Bank--now only take a peep at her--

And there's Rag Fair, and there the East-London Theatre--

There's St. James's all so fine, St. Giles's all in tattery,

Where fun and frolic dance the rig from Saturday to Saturday.

O what a town, what a wonderful Metropolis,

Sure such a town as this was never seen!

A SHORT time after this day's ramble, the Hon. Tom Dash all and his

friend Tallyho paid a visit to the celebrated Tattersall's.

[Illustration: page160 Tattersall's]

“This,” said Tom, “is a great scene of action at times, and you will

upon some occasions find as much business done here as there is on

'Change; the dealings however are not so fair, though the profits

are larger; and if you observe the characters and the visages of the

visitants, it will be found it is most frequently attended by Turf-Jews

and Greeks.{1} Any man indeed who dabbles in horse-dealing, must, like

a gamester, be either a rook or a pigeon; {2} for horse-dealing is a

species of gambling, in which as many

1 Turf-Jews and Greeks--Gamblers at races, trotting-

matches, &c.

2 Rooks and Pigeons are frequenters of gaming-houses: the

former signifying the successful adventurer, and the latter

the unfortunate dupe.

~161~~depredations are committed upon the property of the unwary as in

any other, and every one engaged in it thinks it a meritorious act to

dupe his chapman. Even noblemen and gentlemen, who in other

transactions of life are honest, will make no scruple of cheating you in

horse-dealing: nor is this to be wondered at when we consider that

the Lord and the Baronet take lessons from their grooms, jockeys, or

coachmen, and the nearer approach they can make to the appearance

and manners of their tutors, the fitter the pupils for turf-men, or

gentlemen dealers; for the school in which they learn is of such

a description that dereliction of principle is by no means

surprising--fleecing each other is an every-day practice--every one

looks upon his fellow as a bite, and young men of fashion learn how to

buy and sell, from old whips, jockeys, or rum ostlers, whose practices

have put them up to every thing, and by such ruffian preceptors are

frequently taught to make three quarters or seventy-five per cent,

profit, which is called turning an honest penny. This, though frequently

practised at country fairs, &c. by horse-jobbers, &c. is here executed

with all the dexterity and art imaginable: for instance, you have

a distressed friend whom you know must sell; you commiserate his

situation, and very kindly find all manner of faults with his horse, and

buy it for half its value--you also know a Green-horn and an extravagant

fellow, to whom you sell it for twice its value, and that is the neat

thing. Again, if you have a horse you wish to dispose of, the same

school will afford you instruction how to make the most of him, that is

to say, to conceal his vices and defects, and by proper attention to put

him into condition, to alter his whole appearance by hogging, cropping,

and docking--by patching up his broken knees--blowing gun-powder in his

dim eyes--bishoping, blistering, &c. so as to turn him out in good twig,

scarcely to be known by those who have frequently seen and noticed him:

besides which, at the time of sale one of these gentry will aid and

assist your views by pointing out his recommendations in some such

observations as the following:

'There's a horse truly good and well made.

'There's the appearance of a fine woman! broad breast, round hips, and

long neck.

'There's the countenance, intrepidity, and fire of a lion.

'There's the eye, joint, and nostril of an ox.

~162~~'There's the nose, gentleness, and patience of a lamb.

'There's the strength, constancy, and foot of a mule.

'There's the hair, head, and leg of a deer.

'There's the throat, neck, and hearing of a wolf.

'There's the ear, brush, and trot of a fox.

'There's the memory, sight, and turning of a serpent.

'There's the running, suppleness, and innocence of the hare.

“And if a horse sold for sound wind, limb, and eyesight, with all the

gentleness of a lamb, that a child might ride him with safety, should

afterwards break the purchaser's neck, the seller has nothing to do with

it, provided he has received the _bit_,{1} but laughs at the _do_.{2}

Nay, they will sometimes sell a horse, warranted to go as steady as ever

a horse went in harness, to a friend, assuring him at the same time that

he has not a fault of any kind--that he is good as ever shoved a head

through a horse-collar; and if he should afterwards rear up in the gig,

and overturn the driver into a ditch, shatter the concern to

pieces, spill Ma'am, and kill both her and the child of promise, the

conscientious Horse-dealer has nothing to do with all this: How could

he help it? he sold the horse for a good horse, and a good horse he was.

This is all in the way of fair dealing. Again, if a horse is sold as

sound, and he prove broken-winded, lame, or otherwise, not worth

one fortieth part of the purchase-money, still it is only a piece of

jockeyship--a fair manouvre, affording opportunities of merriment.”

“A very laudable sort of company,” said Bob.

“It is rather a mixed one,” replied Tom--“it is indeed a complete

mixture of all conditions, ranks, and orders of society. But let us take

a peep at some of them. Do you observe that stout fellow yonder, with

a stick in his hand? he has been a _Daisy-kicker_, and, by his arts and

contrivances having saved a little money, is now a regular dealer, and

may generally be seen here on selling days.”

“Daisy-kicker,” said Bob, “I don't comprehend the term.”

“Then I will explain,” was the reply. “Daisy-kickers are Ostlers

belonging to large inns, who are known to each other by that title, and

you may frequently hear them

1 Bit--A cant term for money.

2 Do--Any successful endeavour to over-reach another is by

these gentlemen call'd a do, meaning--so and so has been

done.

~163~~ask--When did you sell your Daisy-kicker or Grogham?--for these

terms are made use of among themselves as cant for a horse. Do you also

observe, he is now in close conversation with a person who he expects

will become a purchaser.”

“And who is he?”

“He is no other than a common informer, though in high life; keeps his

carriage, horses, and servants--lives in the first style--he is shortly

to be made a Consul of, and perhaps an Ambassador afterwards. The first

is to all intents and purposes a Lord of Trade, and his Excellency

nothing more than a titled spy, in the same way as a Bailiff is a

follower of the law, and a man out of livery a Knight's companion or a

Nobleman's gentleman.”

Their attention was at this moment attracted by the appearance of two

persons dressed in the extreme of fashion, who, upon meeting just by

them, caught eagerly hold of each other's hand, and they overheard

the following--'Why, Bill, how am you, my hearty?--where have you

been _trotting your galloper_?--what is you arter?--how's Harry and

Ben?--haven't seen you this blue moon.'{1}

'All tidy,' was the reply; 'Ben is getting better, and is going to sport

a new curricle, which is now building for him in Long Acre, as soon as

he is recovered.'

'Why what the devil's the matter with him, eh?'

'Nothing of any consequence, only he got mill'd a night or two ago about

his blowen--he had one of his ribs broke, sprained his right wrist, and

sports a _painted peeper_{2} upon the occasion, that's all.'

'Why you know he's no _bad cock_ at the Fancy, and won't put up with any

gammon.'

'No, but he was lushy, and so he got queer'd--But I say, have you sold

your bay?'

'No, d----n me, I can't get my price.'

'Why, what is it you axes?'{3}

'Only a hundred and thirty--got by Agamemnon. Lord, it's no price at

all--cheap as dirt--But I say, Bill,

1 Blue moon--This is usually intended to imply a long time.

2 Painted peeper--A black eye.

3 Axes--Among the swell lads, and those who affect the

characters of knowing coveys, there is a common practice of

endeavouring to coin new words and new modes of expression,

evidently intended to be thought wit; and this affectation

frequently has the effect of creating a laugh.

~164~~how do you come on with your grey, and the pie-bald poney?'

'All right and regular, my boy; matched the poney for a light curricle,

and I swapped{1} the grey for an entire horse--such a rum one--when

will you come and take a peep at him?--all bone, fine shape and action,

figure beyond compare--I made a rare good chop of it.'

'I'm glad to hear it; I'll make a survey, and take a ride with you the

first leisure day; but I'm full of business, no time to spare--I say,

are, you a dealer?'

'No, no, it won't do, I lost too much at the Derby--besides, I must go

and drive my Girl out--_Avait, that's the time of day_,{2} my boys--so

good by--But if you should be able to pick up a brace of clever

pointers, a prime spaniel, or a greyhound to match Smut, I'm your

man--buy for me, and all's right--price, you know, is out of the

question, I must have them if they are to be got, so look out--bid and

buy; but mind, nothing but prime will do for me--that's the time of day,

you know, d----n me--so good by--I'm off.' And away he went.

“Some great sporting character, I suppose,” said Bob--“plenty of money.”

“No such thing,” said Tom, drawing him on one side--“you will hardly

believe that Bill is nothing more than a Shopman to a Linen-draper,

recently discharged for malpractices; and the other has been a Waiter

at a Tavern, but is now out of place; and they are both upon the

sharp look-out to _gammon the flats_. The former obtains his present

livelihood by gambling--spends the most of his time in playing cards

with _greenhorns_, always to be picked up at low flash houses, at fairs,

races, milling-matches, &c. and is also in the holy keeping of the

cast-off mistress of a nobleman whose family he was formerly in as a

_valet-de-chambre_. The other pretends to teach sparring in the City,

and occasionally has a benefit in the Minories, Duke's Place, and the

Fives Court.”

“They talk it well, however,” said Bob.

1 Swapp'd--Exchanged.

2 That's the time of day--That's your sort--that's the

barber--keep moving--what am you arter--what am you up to--

there never was such times--that's the Dandy--Go along Bob,

&c. are ex-pressions that are frequently made use of by the

people of the Metropolis; and indeed fashion seems almost to

have as much to do with our language as with our dress or

manners.

~165~~“Words are but wind, many a proud word comes off a weak stomach,”

was the reply; “and you may almost expect not to hear a word of truth in

this place, which may be termed The Sporting Repository--it is the grand

mart for horses and for other fashionable animals--for expensive asses,

and all sorts of sporting-dogs, town-puppies, and second-hand

vehicles. Here bets are made for races and fights--matches are made up

here--bargains are struck, and engagements entered into, with as much

form, regularity, and importance, as the progress of parliamentary

proceedings--points of doubt upon all occasions of jockeyship are

decided here; and no man of fashion can be received into what is termed

polished society, without a knowledge of this place and some of the

visitors. The proceedings however are generally so managed, that the

ostlers, the jockeys, the grooms, and the dealers, come best off, from

a superiority of knowledge and presumed judgment--they have a method of

patching up deep matches to _diddle the dupes_, and to introduce _throws

over, doubles, double doubles_, to ease the heavy pockets of their

burdens. The system of puffing is also as much in use here as among the

Lottery-office Keepers, the Quack Doctors, or the Auctioneers; and

the __Knowing ones, by an understanding amongst each other, sell their

cattle almost for what they please, if it so happens they are not

immediately in want of the _ready_,{1} which, by the way, is an article

too frequently in request--and here honest poverty is often obliged to

sell at any rate, while the rich black-leg takes care only to sell to

a good advantage, making a point at the same time not only to make the

most of his cattle, but also of his friend or acquaintance.”

“Liberal and patriotic-minded men!” said Bob; “it is a noble Society,

and well worthy of cultivation.”

“It is fashionable Society, at least,” continued Tom, “and deserving of

observation, for it is fraught with instruction.”

“I think so, indeed,” was the reply; “but I really begin to suspect that

I shall scarcely have confidence to venture out alone, for there does

not appear to be any part of your wonderful Metropolis but what is

infested with some kind of shark or other.”

“It is but too true, and it is therefore the more necessary to make

yourself acquainted with them; it is rather a long lesson, but really

deserving of being learnt. You

1 The ready--Money.

~166~~perceive what sort of company you are now in, as far as may be

judged from their appearances; but they are not to be trusted, for I

doubt not but you would form erroneous conclusions from such premises.

The company that assembles here is generally composed of a great variety

of characters--the Idler, the Swindler, the Dandy, the Exquisite, the

full-pursed young Peer, the needy Sharper, the gaudy Pauper, and the

aspiring School-boy, anxious to be thought a dealer and a judge of the

article before him--looking at a horse with an air of importance and

assumed intelligence, bidding with a trembling voice and palpitating

heart, lest it should be knock'd down to him. Do you see that dashing

fellow nearly opposite to us, in the green frock-coat, top-boots, and

spurs?--do you mark how he nourishes his whip, and how familiar he seems

to be with the knowing old covey in brown?”

“Yes; I suppose he is a dealer.”

“You are right, he is a dealer, but it is in man's flesh, not horse

flesh: he is a _Bum trap_{1} in search of some friend

1 Bum trap--A term pretty generally in use to denominate a

Bailiff or his follower--they are also called Body-

snatchers. The ways and means made use of by these gentry to

make their captions are innumerable: they visit all places,

assume all characters, and try all stratagems, to secure

their friends, in order that they may have an opportunity of

obliging them, which they have a happy facility in doing,

provided the party can _bleed free_.* Among others, the

following are curious facts:

A Gentleman, who laboured under some peculiar difficulties,

found it desirable for the sake of his health to retire into

the country, where he secluded himself pretty closely from

the vigilant anxieties of his friends, who were in search of

him and had made several fruitless attempts to obtain an

interview. The Traps having ascertained the place of his

retreat, from which it appeared that nothing but stratagem

could draw him, a knowing old snatch determined to effect

his purpose, and succeeded in the following manner:

One day as the Gentleman came to his window, he discovered a

man, seemingly in great agitation, passing and re-passing;

at length, however, he stopped suddenly, and with a great

deal of attention fixed his eyes upon a tree which stood

nearly opposite to the window. In a few minutes he returned

to it, pulled out a book, in which he read for a few

minutes, and then drew forth a rope from his pocket, with

which he suspended himself from the tree. The Gentleman,

eager to save the life of a fellow-creature, ran out and cut

him down. This was scarcely accomplished, before he found

the man whom he had rescued (as he thought) from death,

slapp'd him on the shoulder, informed him that he was his

prisoner, and in return robbed him of his liberty!

Another of these gentry assumed the character of a poor

cripple, and stationed himself as a beggar, sweeping the

crossing near the habitation of his shy cock, who,

conceiving himself safe after three days voluntary

imprisonment, was seized by the supposed Beggar, who threw

away his broom to secure his man.

Yet, notwithstanding the many artifices to which this

profession is obliged to conform itself, it must be

acknowledged there are many of them who have hearts that

would do honour to more exalted situations; especially when

we reflect, that in general, whatever illiberality or

invective may be cast upon them, they rarely if at all

oppress those who are in their custody, and that they

frequently endeavour to compromise for the Debtor, or at

least recommend the Creditor to accept of those terms which

can be complied with.

* Bleed free--

~167~~or other, with a writ in his pocket. These fellows have some

protean qualities about them, and, as occasion requires, assume all

shapes for the purpose of taking care of their customers; they are

however a sort of necessary evil. The old one in brown is a well-known

dealer, a deep old file, and knows every one around him--he is up to the

sharps, down upon the flats, and not to be done. But in looking round

you may perceive men booted and spurred, who perhaps never crossed

a horse, and some with whips in their hands who deserve it on their

backs--they hum lively airs, whistle and strut about with their

quizzing-glasses in their hands, playing a tattoo upon their boots, and

shewing themselves off with as many airs as if they were real actors

engaged in the farce, that is to say, the buyers and sellers; when in

truth they are nothing but loungers in search of employment, who

may perhaps have to count the trees in the Park for a dinner without

satisfying the cravings of nature, dining as it is termed with Duke

Humphrey--others, perhaps, who have arrived in safety, are almost afraid

to venture into the streets again, lest they should encounter those foes

to liberty, John Doe and Richard Roe.”

'If I do, may I be----' The remainder of the sentence was lost, by the

speaker removing in conversation with another, when Tom turn'd round.

“O,” said Tom, “I thought I knew who it was--that is one of the greatest

reprobates in conversation that I ever met with.”

“And who is he?”

“Why, I'll give you a brief sketch of him,” continued Dashall: “It is

said, and I fancy pretty well known, ~168~~that he has retired upon a

small property, how acquired or accumulated I cannot say; but he has

married a Bar-maid of very beautiful features and elegant form: having

been brought up to the bar, she is not unaccustomed to confinement; but

he has made her an absolute prisoner, for he shuts her up as closely as

if she were in a monastery--he never dines at home, and she is left in

complete solitude. He thinks his game all safe, but she has sometimes

escaped the vigilance of her gaoler, and has been seen at places distant

from home.{1}

1 It is related of this gentleman, whose severity and

vigilance were so harshly spoken of, that one day at table,

a dashing young Military Officer, who, while he was

circulating the bottle, was boasting among his dissipated

friends of his dexterity in conducting the wars of Venus,

that he had a short time back met one of the most lovely

creatures he ever saw, in the King's Road; but he had

learned that her husband so strictly confined and watched

her, that there was no possibility of his being admitted to

her at any hour.

“Behave handsome, and I'll put you in possession of a gun

that shall bring the game down in spite of locks, bolts and

bars, or even the vigilance of the eyes of Argus himself.”

“How? d----me if I don't stand a ten pound note.”

“How! why easy enough; I've a plan that cannot but succeed--

down with the cash, and I'll put you up to the scheme.”

No sooner said than done, and he pocketed the ten pound

note.

“Now,” said the hoary old sinner, little suspecting that he

was to be the dupe of his own artifice: “You get the husband

invited out to dinner, have him well ply'd with wine by your

friends: You assume the dress of a Postman--give a

thundering rap at her door, which always denotes either the

arrival of some important visitor or official communication;

and when you can see her, flatter, lie, and swear that her

company is necessary to your existence--that life is a

burden without her--tell her, you know her husband is

engaged, and can't come--that he is dining out with some

jolly lads, and can't possibly be home for some hours--fall

at her feet, and say that, having obtained the interview,

you will not leave her. Your friends in the mean time must

be engaged in making him as drunk as a piper. That's the way

to do it, and if you execute it as well as it is plann'd,

the day's your own.”

“Bravo, bravo!” echoed from every one present.

It was a high thing--the breach thus made, the horn-work was

soon to be carried, and there could be no doubt of a safe

lodgement in the covert-way.

The gay Militaire met his inamorata shortly afterwards in

Chelsea-fields, and after obtaining from her sundry

particulars of inquiry, as to the name of her husband, &c.

he acquainted her with his plan. The preliminaries were

agreed upon, and it was deter-mined that the maid-servant,

who was stationed as a spy upon her at all times, should be

dispatched to some house in the neighbour-hood to procure

change, while the man of letters was to be let in and

concealed; and upon her return it was to be stated that the

Postman was in a hurry, could not wait, and was to call

again. This done, he was to make his escape by a rope-ladder

from the window as soon as the old one should be heard upon

the stairs, which it of course was presumed would be at a

late hour, when he was drunk.

The train having been thus laid, Old Vigilance dined out,

and expected to meet the Colonel; but being disappointed,

and suspicious at all times, for

“Suspicion ever haunts the guilty mind,”

The utmost endeavours of the party to make him drunk proved

ineffectual; he was restless and uncomfortable, and he could

not help fancying by the visible efforts to do him up, that

some mischief was brewing, or some hoax was about to be

played off. He had his master-key in his pocket, and retired

early.

His Lady, whose plan had succeeded admirably at home, was

fearful of having the door bolted till after twelve, lest

the servant's suspicions should be aroused. In the mean

time, the son of Mars considered all safe, and entertained

no expectation of the old Gentleman's return till a very

late hour. When lo and behold, to the great surprise and

annoyance of the lovers, he gently opened the street door,

and fearful of awaking his faithful charmer out of her first

slumber, he ascended the stairs unshod. His phosphoric

matches shortly threw a light upon the subject, and he

entered the apartment; when, what was the surprise and

astonishment of the whole party at the discovery of their

situation!

The old Gentleman swore, stormed, and bullied, declaring he

would have satisfaction! that he would commence a civil

suit! The Military Hero told him it would be too civil by

half, and was in fact more than he expected;--reminded him

of the ten pounds he had received as agency for promoting

his amours;--informed him he had performed the character

recommended by him most admirably. The old man was almost

choked with rage; but perceiving he had spread a snare for

himself, was compelled to hear and forbear, while the lover

bolted, wishing him a good night, and singing, “Locks,

bolts, and bars, I defy you,” as an admirable lesson in

return for the blustering manner in which he had received

information of the success of his own scheme.

“Mr. C---- on the opposite side is a Money-procurer or lender, a very

accommodating sort of person, who négociâtes meetings and engagements

between young borrowers, who care not what they pay for money, and old

lenders, who care not who suffers, so they can obtain enormous interest

for their loans. He is a venerable looking man, and is known to most

of the young Bloods who visit here. His father was a German Cook in a

certain kitchen. He set up for a Gentleman at his father's death, and

was taken particular notice of by Lord G----, ~170~~and indeed by all

the turf. He lived a gay and fashionable life, soon run out his fortune,

and is now pensioned by a female whom he formerly supported. He is an

excellent judge of a horse and horse-racing, upon which subjects

his advice is frequently given. He is a very useful person among the

generality of gentry who frequent this place of public resort. At the

same time it ought to be observed, that among the various characters

which infest and injure society, perhaps there are few more practised in

guilt, fraud, and deceit, than the Money-lenders.

“They advertise to procure large sums of money to assist those under

pecuniary embarrassment. They generally reside in obscure situations,

and are to be found by anonymous signatures, such as A. B. I. R. D. V.

&c. They chiefly prey upon young men of property, who have lost their

money at play, horse-racing, betting, &c. or other expensive amusements,

and are obliged to raise more upon any terms until their rents or

incomes become payable: or such as have fortunes in prospect, as being

heirs apparent to estates, but who require assistance in the mean time.

“These men avail themselves of the credit, or the ultimate

responsibility of the giddy and thoughtless young spendthrift in his

eager pursuit of criminal pleasures, and under the influence of those

allurements, which the various places of fashionable resort hold out;

and seldom fail to obtain from them securities and obligations for large

sums; upon the credit of which they are enabled, perhaps at usurious

interest, to borrow money or discount bills, and thus supply their

unfortunate customers upon the most extravagant terms.

“There are others, who having some capital, advance money upon bonds,

title-deeds, and other specialties, or tipon the bond of the parties

having property in reversion. By these and other devices, large sums of

money are most unwarrantably and illegally wrested from the dissipated

and the thoughtless; and misery and distress are perhaps entailed upon

them as long as they live, or they are driven by the prospect of utter

ruin to acts of desperation or the commission of crimes.

“It generally happens upon application to the advertising party, that

he, like Moses in _The School for Scandal_, is not really in possession

of any money himself, but then he knows where and how to procure it from

a very ~171~~unconscionable dog, who may, perhaps, not be satisfied with

the security ottered; yet, if you have Bills at any reasonable date, he

could get them discounted. If you should suffer yourself to be trick'd

out of any Bills, he will contrive, in some way or other, to negotiate

them--not, as he professes, for you, but for himself and his colleagues;

and, very likely, after you have been at the additional expense of

commencing a suit at law against them, they have disappeared, and are

in the King's Bench or the Fleet, waiting there to defraud you of

every hope and expectation, by obtaining their liberty through the

White-washing Act.

“These gentry are for the most part Attorneys or Pettifoggers, or

closely connected with such; and notwithstanding all legal provisions

to preclude them from exacting large sums, either for their agency and

introduction, or for the bonds which they draw, yet they contrive to

bring themselves home, and escape detection, by some such means as the

following:

“They pretend that it is necessary to have a deed drawn up to explain

the uses of the Annuity-bond, which the grantor of the money, who is

some usurious villain, immediately acknowledges and accedes to; for

“The bond that signs the mortgage pays the shot; so that an Act which

is fraught with the best purposes for the protection of the honest, but

unfortunate, is in this manner subjected to the grossest chicanery of

pettifoggers and pretenders, and the vilest evasions of quirking low

villains of the law.

“There is also another species of money-lender, not inaptly termed

the Female Banker. These accommodate Barrow-women and others, who sell

fruit, vegetables, &c. in the public streets, with five shillings a day

(the usual diurnal stock in such cases;) for the use of which for twelve

hours they obtain the moderate premium of sixpence when the money is

returned in the evening, receiving at this rate about seven pounds

ten shillings per year for every five pounds they can so employ. It is

however very difficult to convince the borrowers of the correctness

of this calculation, and of the serious loss to which they subject

themselves by a continuation of the system, since it is evident that

this improvident and dissolute class of people have no other idea

than that of making the day and the way alike long. Their profits

~172~~(often considerably augmented by dealing in base money as well as

the articles which they sell) seldom last over the day; for they never

fail to have a luxurious dinner and a hot supper, with a plentiful

supply of gin and porter: looking in general no farther than to keep the

whole original stock with the sixpence interest, which is paid over

to the female Banker in the evening, and a new loan obtained on the

following morning to go to market, and to be disposed of in the same

way.

“In contemplating this curious system of banking, or money lending

(trifling as it may appear,) it is almost impossible not to be forcibly

struck with the immense profits that are derived from it. It is only

necessary for one of these sharpers to possess a capital of seventy

shillings, or three pounds ten shillings, with fourteen steady and

regular customers, in order to realize an income of one hundred guineas

per year! So true it is, that one half of the world do not know how

the other half live; for there are thousands who cannot have the least

conception of the existence of such facts.

“Here comes a _Buck of the first cut_, one who pretends to know every

thing and every body, but thinks of nobody but himself, and of that self

in reality knows nothing.

Captain P----is acknowledged by all his acquaintance to be one of the

best fellows in the world, and to beat every one at slang, but U----y

and A----se. He is the terror of the Charleys, and of the poor

unfortunate roofless nightly wanderers in the streets. You perceive his

long white hair, and by no means engaging features. Yet he has vanity

enough to think himself handsome, and that he is taken notice of on

that account; when the attractions he presents are really such as excite

wonder and surprise, mingled with disgust; yet he contemplates his

figure in the looking-glass with self satisfaction, and asks the

frail ones, with a tremulous voice, if, so help them----he is not a

good-looking fellow 1 and they, knowing their customer, of course do not

fail to reply in the affirmative.

“He is a well known leg, and is no doubt present on this occasion to

bet upon the ensuing Epsom races; by the bye his losses have been very

considerable in that way. He has also at all times been a dupe to the

sex. It is said that Susan B----, a dashing Cyprian, eased his purse

of a £500 bill, and whilst he was dancing in pursuit of her, she was

dancing to the tune of a Fife; a clear proof she ~173~~had an ear for

music as well as an eye to business. But I believe it was played in a

different Key to what he expected; whether it was a minor Key or not I

cannot exactly say.

“At a ball or assembly he conceives himself quite at home, satisfied

that he is the admiration of the whole of the company present; and were

he to give an account of himself, it would most likely be in substance

nearly as follows:

“When I enter the room, what a whisp'ring is heard; My rivals,

astonish'd, scarce utter a word; “How charming! (cry all; ) how

enchanting a fellow! How neat are those small-clothes, how killingly

yellow. Not for worlds would I honour these plebs with a smile, Tho'

bursting with pride and delight all the while; So I turn to my cronies

(a much honour'd few,); Crying, “S--z--m, how goes it?--Ah, Duchess,

how do? Ton my life, yonder's B--uf, and Br--ke, and A--g--le, S-ff--d,

W--tm--1--d, L--n, and old codger C--ri--le.” Now tho', from this style

of address, it appears That these folks I have known for at least fifty

years, The fact is, my friends, that I scarcely know one, A mere “façon

de parler,” the way of the ton. What tho' they dislike it, I answer my

ends, Country gentlemen stare, and suppose them my friends.

But my beautiful taste (as indeed you will guess) Is manifest most in my

toilet and dress; My neckcloth of course forms my principal care, For

by that we criterions of elegance swear, And costs me each morning some

hours of flurry, To make it appear to be tied in a hurry. My boot-tops,

those unerring marks of a blade, With Champagne are polish'd, and peach

marmalade; And a violet coat, closely copied from B--ng, With a

cluster of seals, and a large diamond ring; And troisièmes of buckskin,

bewitchingly large, Give the finishing stroke to the “_parfait

ouvrage_.”

During this animated description of the gay personage alluded to, Bob

had listened with the most undeviating attention, keeping his eye all

the time on this extravagant piece of elegance and fashion, but could

not help bursting into an immoderate fit of laughter at its conclusion.

In the mean time the crowd of visitors had continued to increase; all

appeared to be bustle and confusion; small parties were seen in groups

communicating together in different places, and every face appeared

to be animated by hopes or fears. Dashall was exchanging familiar

~174~~nods and winks with those whom lie knew; but as their object was

not to buy, they paid but little attention to the sales of the day,

rather contenting themselves with a view of the human cattle by which

they were surrounded, when they were pleasingly surprised to observe

their friend Sparkle enter, booted and spurred.

“Just the thing! (said Sparkle,) I had some suspicion of finding you

here. Are you buyers? Does your Cousin want a horse, an ass, or a

filly?”

Tom smiled; “Always upon the ramble, eh, Sparkle. Why ask such

questions? You know we are well horsed; but I suppose if the truth was

known, you are _prad_ sellers; if so, shew your article, and name your

price.”

“Apropos,” said Sparkle; “Here is a friend of mine, to whom I must

introduce you, so say no more about articles and prices--I have an

article in view above all price--excuse me.” And with this he made his

way among the tribe of Jockeys, Sharpers, and Blacklegs, and in a minute

returned, bringing with him a well-dressed young man, whose manners and

appearance indicated the Gentleman, and whose company was considered by

Tom and his Cousin as a valuable acquisition.

“Mr. Richard Mortimer,” said Sparkle, as he introduced his friend--“the

Hon. Mr. Dashall, and Mr. Robert Tallyho.”

After the mutual interchanges of politeness which naturally succeeded

this introduction--“Come,” said Sparkle, “we are horsed, and our nags

waiting--we are for a ride, which way do you bend your course?”

“A lucky meeting,” replied Tom; “for we are upon the same scent; I

expect my curricle at Hyde-Park Corner in ten minutes, and have no

particular line of destination.”

“Good,” said Sparkle; “then we may hope to have your company; and how

disposed for the evening?”

“Even as chance may direct.”

“Good, again--all right--then as you are neither buyers nor sellers,

let us employ the remaining ten minutes in looking around us--there

is nothing to attract here--Epsom Races are all the talk, and all of

business that is doing--come along, let us walk through the Park--let

the horses meet us at Kensington Gate, and then for a twist among the

briers and brambles.”

This was readily agreed to: orders were given to the servants, and the

party proceeded towards the Park.~175~~

CHAPTER XIII

What is Bon Ton? Oh d---- me (cries a Buck,

Half drunk, ) ask me, my dear, and you're in luck:

Bon Ton's to swear, break windows, beat the Watch,

Pick up a wench, drink healths, and roar a catch.

Keep it up, keep it up! d---- me, take your swing--

Bon Ton is Life, my boy! Bon Ton's the thing!

“Ah, I loves Life and all the joys it yields--

(Says Madam Fussock. warm from Spitalfields; )

Bon Ton's the space 'twixt Saturday and Monday,

And riding out in one-horse shay o' Sunday;

'Tis drinking tea on summer afternoons

At Bagnigge Wells, with china and gilt spoons;

'Tis laying by our stuffs, red cloaks and pattens,

To dance cowtillions all in silks and satins.”

“Vulgar! (cries Miss) observe in higher Life

The feather'd spinster and three feather'd wife;

The Club's Bon Ton--Bon Ton's a constant trade

Of rout, festino, ball and masquerade;

'Tis plays and puppet shows--'tis something new--

'Tis losing thousands every night at loo;

Nature it thwarts, and contradicts all reason;

'Tis stiff French stays, and fruit when out of season,

A rose, when half a guinea is the price;

A set of bays scarce bigger than six mice;

To visit friends you never wish to see--

Marriage 'twixt those who never can agree;

Old dowagers, dress'd, painted, patch'd and curl'd--

This is Bon Ton, and this we call the World!

AS they passed through the gate, Tom observed it was rather too early to

expect much company. “Never mind,” said Sparkle, “we are company enough

among ourselves; the morning is fine, the curricle not arrived, and we

shall find plenty of conversation, if we do not discover interesting

character, to diversify our promenade. Travelling spoils conversation,

unless you are squeezed like an Egyptian mummy into a stage or a

mail-coach; and perhaps in that case you may meet with animals who have

voices, without possessing the power of intellect to direct them to any

useful or agreeable purpose.”

~176~~Tallyho, who was at all times delighted with Sparkle's

descriptions of society and manners, appeared pleased with the

proposition.

“Your absence from town,” continued Sparkle, addressing himself to

Dashall, “has prevented my introduction of Mr. Mortimer before, though

you have heard me mention his Sister. They are now inhabitants of our

own sphere of action, and I trust we shall all become better known to

each other.”

This piece of information appeared to be truly acceptable to all

parties. Young Mortimer was a good-looking and well made young man; his

features were animated and intelligent; his manners polished, though

not quite so unrestrained as those which are to be acquired by an

acquaintance with metropolitan associations.

“I am happy,” said he, “to be introduced to any friends of your's, and

shall be proud to number them among mine.”

“You may,” replied Sparkle, “with great safety place them on your list;

though you know I have already made it appear to you that friendship is

a term more generally made use of than understood in London--

“For what is Friendship but a name,

A charm which lulls to sleep,

A shade that follows wealth and fame,

And leaves the wretch to weep?

And Love is still an emptier sound,

The modern fair one's jest;

On earth unseen, or only found

To warm the turtle's nest.”

“These sentiments are excellently expressed,” said Tom, pinching him by

the arm--“and I suppose in perfect consonance with your own?”

Sparkle felt 'the rebuke, look'd down, and seem'd confused; but in a

moment recovering himself,

“Not exactly so,” replied he; “but then you know, and I don't

mind confessing it among friends, though you are aware it is very

unfashionable to acknowledge the existence of any thing of the kind, I

am a pupil of nature.”

“You seem to be in a serious humour all at once,” said young Mortimer.

~177~~“Can't help it,” continued Sparkle--“for,

“Let them all say what they will,

Nature will be nature still.”

“And that usurper, or I should rather say, would be usurper, Fashion,

is in no way in alliance with our natures. I remember the old Duchess of

Marlborough used to say 'That to love some persons very much, and to

see often those we love, is the greatest happiness I can enjoy;' but

it appears almost impossible for any person in London to secure such an

enjoyment, and I can't help feeling it.”

By the look and manner with which this last sentiment was uttered, Tom

plainly discovered there was a something labouring at his heart which

prompted it. “Moralizing!” said he. “Ah, Charley, you are a happy

fellow. I never yet knew one who could so rapidly change '_from grave to

gay, from lively to severe_; and for the benefit of our friends, I can't

help thinking you could further elucidate the very subject you have so

feelingly introduced.”

“You are a quiz” said Sparkle; “but there is one thing to be said,

I know you, and have no great objection to your hits now and then,

provided they are not knock down blows.”

“But,” said Mortimer, “what has this to do with friendship and love? I

thought you were going to give something like a London definition of the

terms.”

“Why,” said Sparkle, “in London it is equally difficult to get to love

any body very much, or often to meet those that we love. There are such

numbers of acquaintances, such a constant succession of engagements of

one sort or other, such a round of delights, that the town resembles

Vauxhall, where the nearest and dearest friends may walk round and round

all night without once meeting: for instance, at dinner you should see a

person whose manners and conversation are agreeable and pleasing to you;

you may wish in vain to become more intimate, for the chance is, that

you will not meet so as to converse a second time for many months;

for no one can tell when the dice-box of society may turn up the same

numbers again. I do not mean to infer that you may not barely see the

same features again; it is possible that you may catch a glimpse of them

on the opposite side of Pall ~178~~Mall or Bond-street, or see them near

to you at a crowded rout, without a possibility of approaching.

“It is from this cause, that those who live in London are so totally

indifferent to each other; the waves follow so quick, that every vacancy

is immediately filled up, and the want is not perceived. The well-bred

civility of modern times, and the example of some 'very popular people,'

it is true, have introduced a shaking of hands, a pretended warmth, a

dissembled cordiality, into the manners of the cold and warm, alike

the dear friend and the acquaintance of yesterday. Consequently we

continually hear such conversation as the following:--' Ah, how d'ye do?

I'm delighted to see you! How is Mrs. M----?'

'She's very well, thank you.' 'Has she any increase in family?' 'Any

increase! why I've only been married three months. I see you are talking

of my former wife: bless you, she has been dead these three years.'--Or,

'Ah, my dear friend, how d'ye do? You have been out of town some time;

where have you been? In Norfolk?' 'No, I have been two years in India.'”

This description of a friendly salutation appeared to interest and

amuse both Talltho and Mortimer. Tom laughed, shrugg'd up his shoulders,

acknowledged the picture was too true, and Sparkle continued.

“And thus it is, that, ignorant of one another's interests and

occupations, the generality of friendships of London contain nothing

more tender than a visiting card: nor are they much better, indeed they

are much worse, if you renounce the world, and determine to live only

with your relations and nearest connexions; for if you go to see them

at one o'clock, they are not stirring; at two, the room is full of

different acquaintances, who talk over the occurrences of the last

night's ball, and, of course, are paid more attention to than yourself;

at three, they are out shopping; at four, they are in this place dashing

among the Pinks, from which they do not return till seven, then they are

dressing; at eight, they are dining with two dozen friends; at nine and

ten the same; at eleven, they are dressing for the ball; and at twelve,

when you are retiring to rest, they are gone into society for the

evening: so that you are left in solitude; you soon begin again to try

the world--and we will endeavour to discover what it produces.

“The first inconvenience of a London Life is the late ~179~~hour of a

fashionable dinner. To pass the day in fasting, and then sit down to a

great dinner at eight o'clock, is entirely against the first dictates of

common sense and common stomachs. But what is to be done? he who rails

against the fashion of the times will be considered a most unfashionable

dog, and perhaps I have already said more than sufficient to entitle me

to that appellation.”

“Don't turn _King's Evidence_ against yourself,” said Tom; “for, if you

plead guilty in this happy country, you must be tried by your Peers.”

“Nay,” said Mortimer, “while fashion and reason appear to be in such

direct opposition to each other, I must confess their merits deserve

to be impartially tried; though I cannot, for one moment, doubt but the

latter must ultimately prevail with the generality, however her dictates

may be disregarded by the votaries of the former.”

“You are a good one at a ramble” said Tom, “and not a bad one in a

spree, but I cannot help thinking you are rambling out of your road;

you seem to have lost the thread of your subject, and, having been

disappointed with love and friendship, you are just going to sit down to

dinner.”

“Pardon me,” replied Sparkle, “I was proceeding naturally, and not

fashionably, to my subject; but I know you are so great an admirer of

the latter, that you care but little about the former.”

“Hit for hit,” said Tom; “but go on--you are certainly growing old,

Sparkle; at all events, you appear very grave this morning, and if

you continue in this humour long, I shall expect you are about taking

Orders.”

“There is a time for all things, but the time for that has not yet

arrived.”

“Well, then, proceed without sermonizing.”

“I don't like to be interrupted,” replied Sparkle; “and there is yet

much to be said on the subject. I find there are many difficulties

to encounter in contending with the fashionable customs. Some learned

persons have endeavoured to support the practice of late dinners by

precedent, and quoted the Roman supper; but it ought to be recollected

that those suppers were at three o'clock in the afternoon, and should be

a subject of contempt, instead of imitation, in Grosvenor Square. Women,

~180~~however, are not quite so irrational as men, in London, for they

generally sit down to a substantial lunch about three or four; if men

would do the same, the meal at eight might be relieved of many of its

weighty dishes, and conversation would be a gainer by it; for it must be

allowed on all hands, that conversation suffers great interruption from

the manner in which fashionable dinners are managed. First, the host and

hostess (or her unfortunate coadjutor) are employed during three parts

of the dinner in doing the work of servants, helping fish, or carving

venison to twenty hungry guests, to the total loss of the host's powers

of amusement, and the entire disfigurement of the fair hostess's face.

Again, much time is lost by the attention every one is obliged to

pay, in order to find out (which, by the way, he cannot do if he is

short-sighted) what dishes are at the extreme end of the table; and if

a guest is desirous of a glass of wine, he must peep through the Apollos

and Cupids of the plateau, in order to find some one to take it with;

otherwise he is compelled to wait till some one asks him, which will

probably happen in succession; so that after having had no wine for

half an hour, he will have to swallow five glasses in five minutes.

Convenience teaches, that the best manner of enjoying society at dinner,

is to leave every thing to the servants that servants can do; so that

no farther trouble may be experienced than to accept the dishes that

are presented, and to drink at your own time the wines which are

handed round. A fashionable dinner, on the contrary, seems to presume

beforehand on the silence, dulness, and insipidity of the guests, and

to have provided little interruptions, like the jerks which the Chaplain

gives to the Archbishop to prevent his going to sleep during a sermon.”

“Accurate descriptions, as usual,” said Tom, “and highly amusing.”

Tallyho and Mortimer were intent upon hearing the remainder of Sparkle's

account, though they occasionally joined in the laugh, and observed that

Sparkle seemed to be in a very sentimental mood. As they continued to

walk on, he resumed--

“Well then, some time after dinner comes the hour for the ball, or rout;

but this is sooner said than done: it often requires as much time to

go from St. James's Square to Cleveland Row, as to go from London to

Hounslow.

~181~~It would require volumes to describe the disappointment which

occurs on arriving in the brilliant mob of a ball-room. Sometimes, as

it has been before said, a friend is seen squeezed like yourself, at

the other end of the room, without a possibility of your communicating,

except by signs; and as the whole arrangement of the society is

regulated by mechanical pressure, you may happen to be pushed

against those to whom you do not wish to speak, whether bores, slight

acquaintances, or determined enemies. Confined by the crowd, stifled by

the heat, dazzled by the light, all powers of intellect are obscured;

wit loses its point, and sagacity its observation; indeed, the limbs

are so crushed, and the tongue so parched, that, except particularly

undressed ladies, all are in the case of the traveller, Mr. Clarke,

when he says, that in the plains of Syria some might blame him for not

making moral reflections on the state of the country; but that he must

own that the heat quite deprived him of all power of thought. Hence it

is, that the conversation you hear around you is generally nothing more

than--“Have you been here long?--Have you been at Mrs. H----'s?--Are

you going to Lady D----'s?”--Hence too,

Madam de Staël said very justly to an Englishman, “Dans vos routes le

corps fait plus de frai que l'esprit.” But even if there are persons of

a constitution robust enough to talk, they dare not do so, when twenty

heads are forced into the compass of one square foot; nay, even if, to

your great delight, you see a person to whom you have much to say, and

by fair means or foul, elbows and toes, knees and shoulders, have got

near him, he often dismisses you with shaking you by the hand,

and saying--My dear Mr.---- how do you do? and then continues a

conversation with a person whose ear is three inches nearer. At one

o'clock, however, the crowd diminishes; and if you are not tired by the

five or six hours of playing at company, which you have already had, you

may be very comfortable for the rest of the evening. This however is

the round of fashionable company. But I begin to be tired even of the

description.”

“A very luminous and comprehensive view of fashionable society however,”

said Tom, “sketched by a natural hand in glowing colours, though not

exactly in the usual style. I shall not venture to assert whether

the subjects are well chosen, but the figures are well grouped, and

~182~~display considerable ability and lively imagination in the

painter, though a little confused.”

“It appears to be a study from nature,” said Mortimer.

“At least,” continued Sparkle, “it is a study from Real Life, and

delineates the London manners; for although I have been a mingler in

the gaieties and varieties of a London Life, I have always held the

same opinions with respect to the propriety of the manners and customs

adopted, and have endeavoured to read as I ran; and it cannot be

denied, that, in the eye of fashion, nothing can be more amiable than to

deviate, or at least to affect a deviation, from nature, for to speak

or act according to her dictates, would be considered vulgar and

common-place in the last degree; to hear a story and not express an

emotion you do not feel, perfectly rude and unmannerly, and among the

ladies particularly. To move and think as the heart feels inclined,

are offences against politeness that no person can ever in honour or

delicacy forgive.”

“Come, come,” said Tom, “don't you be so hard on the blessings of Life--

“For who, that knows the thrilling touch

Which Woman's love can give,

Would wish to live for aught so much,

As bid those beauties live?

For what is life, which all so prize,

And all who live approve,

Without the fire of Woman's eyes,

To bid man live and love?”

Sparkle affected to laugh, appeared confused, and look'd down for a few

moments, and they walk'd on in silence.

“I perceive,” said Tom, “how the matter stands--well, I shall not be a

tormentor--but remember I expect an introduction to the fair enslaver. I

thought you 'defy'd the mighty conqueror of hearts,' and resolved to be

free.”

“Resolutions, as well as promises, are easily made,” said Sparkle,

“but not always so easily accomplished or performed--nor are you always

accurate in your conceptions of circumstances; but no matter, your

voyages are always made in search of discoveries, and, in spite of your

resolutions, ~183~~you may perchance be entrapp'd. But no more of this;

I perceive your raillery is directed to me, and I hope you enjoy it.”

“Faith,” replied Tom, “you know I always enjoy your company, but I don't

recollect to have found you in so prosing a humour before--Pray, which

way are you directing your coursel?”

During the latter part of this conversation, Bob and young Mortimer were

employed in admiring the fine piece of water which presented itself to

their notice in the Serpentine River.

“Merely for a ride,” was the reply; “any way you please, to pass away

the time.”

“Mighty cavalier, truly,” said Tom; “but come, here we are at

Kensington, let us mount, and away.”

“Remember, I expect you and Mr. Tallyho to accompany me in the evening

to a family-party. I have already stated my intention, and you are both

expected.”

“Upon these terms then, I am your man, and I think I may answer for my

Cousin.”

By this time they were at the gate, where, finding the curricle and the

nags all in readiness, Sparkle and Mortimer were soon horsed, and Tom

and Bob seated in the curricle. They proceeded to Richmond, taking

surveys of the scenery on the road, and discoursing on the usual topics

of such a journey, which being foreign to the professed intention of

this work, are omitted. Suffice it to say they returned refreshed from

the excursion, and parted with a promise to meet again at nine o'clock,

in Grosvenor Square.

“Egad!” said Dashall, as they entered the diningroom, “there is

something very mysterious in all this. Sparkle has hitherto been the

life and soul of society: he seems to be deeply smitten with this young

Lady, Miss Mortimer, and promises fairly, by his manner, to prove a

deserter from our standard, and to inlist under the banners of Hymen.”

“Not unlikely,” replied Tallyho, “if what we are told be true--that it

is what we must all come to.”

“Be that as it may, it ought not to interfere with our pursuits, Real

Life in London, though, to be sure, the Ladies, dear creatures, ought

not to be forgotten: they are so nearly and dearly interwoven with our

existence, that, without them, Life would be insupportable.”

~184~~After dinner, they prepared for the evening party, and made their

appearance in Grosvenor Squire at the appointed hour. But as this will

introduce new characters to the Reader, we shall defer our account of

them till the next Chapter.

CHAPTER XIV

Ye are stars of the night, ye are gems of the morn,

Ye are dew-drops whose lustre illumines the thorn;

And rayless that night is, that morning unblest,

When no beam in your eye, lights up peace in the breast;

And the sharp thorn of sorrow sinks deep in the heart,

Till the sweet lip of Woman assuages the smart;

'Tis her's o'er the couch of misfortune to bend,

In fondness a lover, in firmness a friend;

And prosperity's hour, be it ever confest,

From Woman receives both refinement and zest;

And adorn'd by the bays, or enwreath'd with the willow,

Her smile is our meed, and her bosom our pillow.

ARRIVED at Grosvenor Square, they found the party consisted of Colonel

B----, his son and daughter, Miss Mortimer, and her brother, Mr.

Sparkle, Mr. Merrywell, and Lady Lovelace. The first salutations of

introduction being over, there was time to observe the company, among

whom, Miss Mortimer appeared to be the principal magnet of attraction.

The old Colonel was proud to see the friends of Mr. Sparkle, and had

previously given a hearty welcome to Mr. Merrywell, as the friend of his

nephew, the young Mortimer. Sparkle now appeared the gayest of the gay,

and had been amusing the company with some of his liveliest descriptions

of character and manners, that are to be witnessed in the metropolis.

While Merrywell, who did not seem to be pleased with the particular

attentions he paid to Miss Mortimer, was in close conversation with her

brother.

Tom could not but acknowledge that it was scarcely possible to see Miss

Mortimer, without feelings of a nature which he had scarcely experienced

before. The elegant neatness of her dress was calculated to display the

beauty of her form, and the vivid flashes of a dark eye were so

many irresistible attacks upon the heart; a sweet voice, and smiling

countenance, appeared to throw a radiance around the room, and

illuminate the visages of the whole ~186~~party, while Lady Lovelace

and Maria B---- served as a contrast to heighten that effect which

they envied and reproved. While tea was preparing, after which it was

proposed to take a rubber at cards, a sort of general conversation took

place: the preparations for the Coronation, the new novels of the day,

and the amusements of the theatre, were canvassed in turn; and speaking

of the writings of Sir Walter Scott, as the presumed author of the

celebrated Scotch novels, Lady Lovelace declared she found it impossible

to procure the last published from the library, notwithstanding her name

has been long on the list, so much was it in request.

Sparkle replied, “That he had purchased the Novel, and would willingly

lend it to the Ladies. As for the Libraries,” continued he, “they are

good places of accommodation, but it is impossible to please every one,

either there or any where else; they are however very amusing at times,

and as a proof of it, I strolled the other morning to a Circulating

Library, for the express purpose of lounging away an hour in digesting

the politics and news of the day; but the curious scenes to which I

was witness during this short period, so distracted my attention, that,

despite of the grave subjects on which I was meditating, I could not

resist lending an attentive ear to all that passed around me. There was

something of originality in the countenance of the Master of the Library

which struck me forcibly; and the whimsical answers which he made to his

numerous subscribers, and the yet more whimsical tone in which they

were pronounced, more than once provoked a smile. The first person

who attracted my notice was a fine showy looking woman, dressed in

the extreme of fashion, with a bloom upon her cheek, which might have

emulated that of the rose, with this exception, that it wanted the charm

of nature. Putting a list into the hands of the Bookseller, she

inquired if he had any of the productions the names of which were

there transcribed. Glancing his eye over the paper, he replied (with

an archness which not a little disconcerted her, and which probably

occasioned her abrupt disappearance, “_The Fine Lady_, Madam, is seldom

or ever at home; but _Family Secrets_ we are always ready to let out.”

'_Characters of Eminent Men_' growled out a little vulgar consequential

Citizen, whose countenance bore the stamp of that insufferable

dulness that might almost tempt ~187~~one to imagine him incapable of

comprehending the meaning of the words which he pronounced with an air

of so much self-importance; '_Characters of Eminent Men_, 195,' repeated

the Snarler, in the same tone, 'I much fear if we can boast a quarter

of that number, eh! Mr. Margin?' “I fear not, Sir,” replied Margin;

“but such as we have are very much at your service.” 'Better be in the

service of the nation than in mine, by far,' said the little purse-proud

gentleman, shrugging his shoulders very significantly. “Shall I send

it for you, Sir?” said Margin, without noticing the last remark. 'By no

means, by no means; the volume is not so large, it won't encumber me

much; I believe I shall find it small enough to put in my pocket,'

pursued the little great man, grinning at the shrewdness of his own

observations, and stalking out with as much self-complacency as he had

stalked in. I knew the man well, and could not help laughing at the

lofty airs he assumed, at the manner in which he affected to decry all

his countrymen without mercy, at his unwillingness to acknowledge

any talent amongst them, though he himself was a man of that plodding

description who neither ever had done, nor ever could do any thing to

entitle him to claim distinction of any sort. The young Coxcomb who next

entered, was a direct contrast to the last applicant, both in person and

manner. Approaching with a fashionable contortion, he stretched out his

lady-like hand, and in the most languid and affected tone imaginable,

inquired for The Idler. “That, Sir,” said Margin, “is amongst the works

we have unhappily lost, but you will be sure to meet with it at any of

the fashionable libraries in the neighbourhood of Bond Street or St.

James's.” The young Fop had just sense enough to perceive that the shaft

was aimed at him, but not enough to relish the joke, or correct the

follies which provoked it, and turned abruptly on his heel. He was met

at the door by a sentimental boarding-school Miss, who came flying into

the shop in defiance of her governess, and inquired, in a very pathetic

tone, for _The Constant Lover_. “That, I am afraid,” said Margin, “is

not amongst our collection.” 'Dear me,' lisped the young Lady, with an

air of chagrin, 'that's very provoking, I thought that was what every

one had.' “Give me leave to assure you, Ma'am, that you are quite

mistaken. I fancy you will find that it is not to be met with all over

London.”

~188~~An old Gentleman of the old school, whose clothes were decidedly

the cut of the last century, and whose stiff and formal manners were

precisely of the same date with his habiliments, next came hobbling

in. Poring through his spectacles over the catalogue which lay upon the

counter, the first thing which caught his eye, was _An Essay upon Old

Maids_. “Tom, Tom,” said the complaisant Librarian, calling to a lad at

the other end of the shop, “reach down the Old Maids for the gentleman.

They won't appear to advantage, I'm afraid, a little dusty or damaged,

with having laid so long upon the shelf,” he added, with a simper, which

was not lost upon any one present. A melancholy looking man, in whose

countenance meekness and insipidity were alike plainly depicted,

now came forward, inquiring, in an under, and what might almost be

designated an alarmed tone of voice, for _The Impertinent Wife_; a

female, who hung upon his arm, interrupted him by entreating, or rather

insisting in no very gentle tone, 'that he would ask for something

better worth having.' Margin, affecting only to hear the former speaker,

immediately produced the book in question, and observed, with much

naivete, “that the Impertinent Wife was sure to be in the way at all

hours,” at the same time not omitting to recommend Discipline as “a

better work.” A young man, whom I knew to be one of the greatest fortune

hunters about town, with an air of consummate assurance, put out

his hand for _Disinterested Marriage_. “That's a thing quite out of

date--never thought of now, Sir,” said Margin, who knew him as well as

myself; “Allow me to recommend something of more recent date, something

more sought after in the fashionable world, Splendid Misery, Sir,

or--“The young man heard no more: spite of his impudence, he was so

abashed by the reply, that he made a hasty retreat. The last person whom

I thought it worth my while to notice, was a tall, meagre looking man,

whom I recollected to have seen pointed out to me as a wit, and a genius

of the first order. His wit was, however, of that dangerous sort which

caused his company to be rather shunned than courted; and it was very

evident, from his appearance, that he had not had the wit to work

himself into the good graces of those who might have had it in their

power to befriend him. Though he spoke in a very low tone, I soon

found that he was inquiring for _Plain Sense_. On Margin's replying,

~189~~with much nonchalance, that _Plain Sense_ had of late become very

rare, finding himself disappointed in his first application, his next

aim was _Patronage_. “That, Sir, (said the wary bookseller) is so much

sought after, that I really cannot promise it to you at present; but if,

as I conclude, you merely want something to beguile a leisure hour or

two, probably _The Discontented Man_ will answer the purpose very well.”

To this description of Sparkle, the whole company listened with

attention and delight, frequently interrupting him with bursts of

laughter. Tea was handed round, and then cards introduced. Young

Mortimer and Merrywell seemed to take but little interest in the play,

and evidently discovered their anxiety to be liberated, having some

other object in view. Mortimer felt no great portion of pleasure in

passing his time with his uncle, the Colonel, nor with his sister, Lady

Lovelace, who was a perfect model of London affectation; besides, his

friend Mr. Merrywell, who was to him what Tom Dashall and Sparkle had

been to Tallyho, had made an engagement to introduce him to some of

his dashing acquaintances in the West. Nods and winks were interchanged

between them, and could not but be noticed by Tom and Bob, though

Sparkle was so intent upon the amusements of the moment, and the company

of the lovely Caroline, as to appear immoveable.

Mr. Merrywell at length stated that he must be compelled to quit the

party. Young Mortimer also apologized; for as he and his friend were

engaged for an early excursion in the morning, he should take a bed at

his habitation, in order to be fully prepared. This was the first step

to breaking up the party.

Merrywell called Sparkle on one side, saying he had something of

importance to communicate. It was twelve o'clock, and the gentlemen,

after taking a formal leave of the ladies and the Colonel, and a promise

on the part of Sparkle to meet them again the next morning at twelve, to

escort them to the Exhibition, left the house.

“I am really happy,” said Merrywell to Sparkle as they passed the

door, “to have had the honour of this introduction, and shall have much

pleasure in becoming better acquainted with Mr. Sparkle, who, though

personally unknown to me, his name and fame are familiar.

~190~~Mr. Mortimer and myself are going to take a review of the

neighbourhood of St. James's, probably to shake an elbow.”

“Excellent,” said Tom; “here is a fine opportunity for Mr. Tallyho to

take a like survey, and, if agreeable, we will join the party. Though

I am by no means a friend to gaming, I conceive it necessary that every

person should see the haunts of its votaries, and the arts they make use

of, in order to avoid them.”

“You are right, and therefore let us have a peep at them.” With this

they 'walk'd on, listening with attention to the following lines, which

were recited by Sparkle:

“Behold yon group, fast fix'd at break of day,

Whose haggard looks a sleepless night betray,

With stern attention, silent and profound,

The mystic table closely they surround;

Their eager eyes with eager motions join,

As men who meditate some vast design:

Sure, these are Statesmen, met for public good,

For some among them boast of noble blood:

Or are they traitors, holding close debate

On desp'rate means to overthrow the State?

For there are men among them whose domains

And goods and chattels lie within their brains.

No, these are students of the blackest art

That can corrupt the morals or the heart;

Yet are they oft in fashion's ranks preferred,

And men of honour, if you take their word.

But they can plunder, pillage, and devour,

More than poor robbers, at the midnight hour;

Lay deeper schemes to manage lucky hits,

Than artful swindlers, living by their wits.

Like cunning fowlers, spread th' alluring snare,

And glory when they pluck a pigeon bare.

These are our gamesters, who have basely made

The cards and dice their study and their trade.”{1}

1 Gaming is generally understood to have been invented by

the Lydians, when they were under the pressure of a great

famine. To divert themselves from dwelling on their

sufferings, they contrived the balls, tables, &c. and, in

order to bear their calamity the better, were accustomed to

play for the whole day together, without interruption, that

they might not be rack'd with the thought of food, which

they could not obtain. It is not a little extraordinary that

this invention, which was originally intended as a remedy

for hunger, is now a very common cause of that very evil.

~191~~“True,” said Merry well, as Sparkle concluded, though he did not

like the satire upon his own favourite pursuit; “those delineations are

correct, and the versification good, as far as it applies to the worst

species of the gaminghouse.”

“O,” said Tom, “then pray, Sir, which is the worst?”

“Nonsense,” said Sparkle, “there is neither worse nor best; these Hells

are all alike. _Sharks, Greeks, Gamblers, Knowing Ones, Black-legs, and

Levanters_, are to be met with at them all, and _they meet to bite one

another's heads off_.”

“An admirable description, truly, of the company you are about to

introduce us to, Gentlemen,” said Tallyho.

“I don't understand Greeks, Hells, and Black-legs,” said Mortimer, “and

should like an explanation.”

“With all my heart,” replied Sparkle--“_Hell_ is the general title now

given to any well-known gaming-house, and really appears to be well

chosen; for all the miseries that can fall to the lot of human nature,

are to be found in those receptacles of idleness, duplicity, and

villany. Gaming is an estate to which all the world has a pretence,

though few espouse it who are willing to secure either their estates

or reputations: and these Hells may fairly be considered as so many

half-way houses to the Fleet or King's Bench Prisons, or some more

desperate end. The love of play is the most incurable of insanities:

robbery, suicide, and the extensive ruin of whole families, have been

known to proceed from this unfortunate and fatal propensity.

“_Greeks, Gamblers, Knowing Ones, and Black-legs_, are synonimous terms,

applied to the frequenters of the modern Hells, or Gaming-houses,

and may be distinguished from the rest of society by the following

peculiarities in pursuits and manners.

“The _Greeks_ of the present day, though they may not lay claim to, or

boast of all the attributes of the _Greeks_ of antiquity, must certainly

be allowed to possess that quality for which the latter were ever so

celebrated, namely, _cunning and wariness_: for although no modern Greek

can be said to have any resemblance to Achilles, Ajax, Patroclus, or

Nestor, in point of courage, strength, fidelity, or wisdom, he may

nevertheless boast of being a close copier of the equally renowned

chief of Ithaca. You will find him in most societies, habited like a

gentleman; ~192~~his clothes are of the newest fashion, and his manners

of the highest polish, with every appearance of candour and honour;

while he subsists by unfair play at dice, cards, and billiards,

deceiving and defrauding all those with whom he may engage; disregarding

the professions of friendship and intimacy, which are continually

falling from his lips.

“To become a good _Greek_ (which, by the way, is a contradiction) it

will be found necessary to follow these instructions:

“In the first place, lie should be able to command his temper; he should

speak but little, and when he does mingle in conversation, he should

most decidedly deprecate play, as a source of the greatest evil that

can prey upon society, and elucidate its tendencies by striking examples

which are well known to himself, and which are so forcibly impressed

upon his recollection, that he is determined never to play deep again,

but has no objection to a sociable and friendly game now and then, just

to pass the time away a little agreeably. By this means he may readily

mark down his man, and the game once in view, he should not appear too

eager in the pursuit of it, but take good care, as the proverb says,

to give a sprat, in order to catch a herring. This should be done by

allowing some temporary success, before he make a final hit.

“There is perhaps no art which requires so much of continual practice as

that of _Greekery_. It is therefore necessary, that the professor should

frequently exercise himself in private with cards and dice, in order

that his digits may be trained to a proper degree of agility, upon which

the success of his art principally depends. He should also be accustomed

to work with some younger man than himself, who, having once been

a pigeon, is become a naute, that is enlightened and will not

peach--consequently, he serves as an excellent decoy to others.

“To ascertain the property of the pigeon he intends to pluck, is another

essential requisite; and when this important information is obtained,

(which should be before he commences operations) he should affect the

utmost liberality as to time, &c. and make a show of extending every

honourable facility to his opponent, even by offers of pecuniary

assistance; by which means, (if he should be fortunate enough to have

it accepted) he may probably, by good management, obtain a legal

~193~~security from him, and thus be enabled to fasten on his prey

whenever he pleases.

“The title of a military man, such as Captain, is very useful to the

Greek, as it introduces him well to society, and if he has once held a

commission in the army, so much the better. If not, it can be assumed,

so that if any unpleasant regimental peculation should be introduced,

he may place his hand on the left side of his breast, declare he is

astonished and alarmed at the calumnious spirit of the times, shake his

head, and interlard his conversation with common-place ejaculations;

such as the following--Indeed--No--Why I know Harry very well--he's a

bit of a blood--can it be possible--I should not have thought it--bless

my heart--exactly so--good God--a devilish good joke tho'--that's very

true, says I--so says he, &c. &c.

“A Greek should be a man of some personal courage, never shrink from

a row, nor be afraid to' fight a duel. He should be able to bully,

bluster, swagger and swear, as occasion may require; nay, in desperate

cases, such us peaching, &c. he should not object even to assassination.

He should invite large parties to dine with him frequently, and have a

particular sort of wine for particular companies. He should likewise be

able to swallow a tolerable quantity of the juice of the grape himself,

as well as know how to appear as if he were drinking, when he is merely

passing the bottle, and so manage it passing, as to seem drunk at proper

times. When good opportunities present themselves for the exercise

of his art, and when a hit is really to be made, he should positively

refuse to suffer play of any kind in his house, alleging that he has

seen enough of it, and cut the concern. This serves to increase the

desire for it in others. On any decisive occasion, when a train is known

to be well laid, he should appear to be drunk before any one of the

party; in which case he should take care beforehand to instruct his

decoy to pluck the pigeon, while he, as a supposed observer, is betting

with some one in the company, (of course an accomplice) and is also a

loser.

“Greeks, who know each other, are enabled to convey information by means

of private signals, without uttering a word, and consequently without

detection. At whist, or other games on the cards, fingers are admirable

conveyancers of intelligence, and by dexterous performers ~194~~are

so managed, as to defy the closest scrutiny, so as to have the natural

appearance of pliancy, while, among the _knowing ones_, their movements

are actually deciding the fate of a rubber.”

“Egad!” said Mortimer, “you seem to understand the business so well, I

wonder you don't open shop.”

“My knowledge,” continued Sparkle, “is but theoretical. I cannot boast

of much practical information, for it is long since I shook the lucky

castor.”

“O, then, you are discontented because you have no luck.”

“Not so,” said Sparkle, “for I never play very deep, so that, win or

lose, I can never suffer much; but I am willing to give information to

others, and with that view I have detailed the nature of the houses

and the general character of their frequenters, according to my own

conception of them. The _Levanter_ is a _Black-leg_, who lives by the

_broads_{l} and the _turf_,{2} and is accustomed to work as it were by

_telegraph_{3} with his pal; and if you take the broads in hand in their

company, you are sure to be work'd, either by glazing, that is, putting

you in the front of a looking-glass, by which means your hand is

discovered by your antagonist, or by private signals from the pal. On

the turf he will pick up some nobleman or gentleman, who he knows is

not _up to the rig_--bet him fifty or a hundred on a horse--pull out his

pocket-book--set down the name, and promise to be at the stand when

the race is over; but takes care to be seen no more, unless he is

the winner, which he easily ascertains by the direction his pal takes

immediately on the arrival of the horses. But hold, we must dismiss the

present subject of contemplation, for here we are at the very scene of

action, and now for ocular demonstration.”

No. 40, now 32, Pall Mall, was the place of destination, a house well

known, said, in Koubel's time, to be more _à la Française_, and of

course more of a gambling-house, than any other of the same description

in London. The former were good judges of their business, and did things

in prime order; but, if report say true, the new Establishment

1 Broads--A cant term for cards.

2 Turf--A cant term for horse-racing.

3 Telegraph--To work the telegraph, is to impart information

by secret signs and motions, previously concerted between

the parties.

~195~~has completely eclipsed their precursors: it is now conducted

wholly by aliens--by Frenchmen!!! who are said to have realized 80,000L.

within a very short space of time; and that a certain nobleman, whose

name is not Dormouse, has serious reason to remember that he has been a

visitor.

These concerns are considered of so much importance, and are found to be

so very productive, that regular co-partnerships are entered into,

the business is conducted almost with the precision of a mercantile

establishment; all kinds of characters embark in these speculations, and

rapid fortunes are to be made by them; this alone ought to deter young

men from play, since it sufficiently indicates how much the chances are

in favour of the tables. But many high and noble names resort to them.

“There's N--g--nts proud Lord, who, to angle for pelf,

Will soon find the secret of diddling himself;

There's Herbert, who lately, as knowing one's tell,

Won a tight seven hundred at a House in Pall Mall.

Captain D--v--s, who now is a chick of the game,

For altho' in high feather, the odds will soon tame;

And the Marquis of Bl--ndf--rd, who touch'd 'em up rare

For a thousand in Bennet Street (all on the square);

There's Li--d and C--m--ck, who'd a marine to be,

For none drills a guinea more ably than he;

There's a certain rum Baronet, every one knows,

Who on Saturday nights to the Two Sevens{1} goes,

With J---- and Cl----, Billy W---- and two more,

So drunk, that they keep merry hell in a roar.

Long D--ll--n, their C--rt--r, a son of a gun;

Bill B----, the Doctor, that figure of fun;

Bankers, Dealers and Demireps, Cuckolds in droves,

A T--l--r, a T--nf--Id, a Cr--kf--Id, and CI--ves;

A H--rtf--rd, a Y--rm--th, of frail ones ten score;

X--ft--e, S--br--gt and E--ll--s, and still many more.”

“Come along,” said Merrywell, “let us see what they are made of; are

either of you known? for Cerberus, who keeps the door, is d----d

particular, in consequence of some rows they have recently had, and the

devil is careful to pick his customers.”

“To pluck them, you mean,” said Tom; “but perhaps you are in possession

of the pass-word--if so, lead on.”

1 The _Two Sevens_--A nick-name for the well-known house,

No. 77, Jermyn Street.

~196~~Tallyho had already heard so much about Hells, Gambling-houses,

and Subscription-houses, that he was all anxiety for an interior view,

and the same feeling animated Mortimer. As they were about to enter,

they were not a little surprised to find that houses which are spoken of

so publicly, have in general the appearance of private dwellings, with

the exception that the hall-door is left ajar during the hours usually

devoted to play, like those of trap-cages, to catch the passing pigeons,

and to obviate the delay which might be occasioned by the necessity of

knocking--a delay which might expose the customers to the glances of an

unsuspecting creditor--a confiding father, or a starving wife; and, as

Merrywell observed, “It was to be understood that the entrance was well

guarded, and that no gentleman could be permitted to risk or lose his

money, without an introduction.” A very necessary precaution to obviate

the danger of being surprised by the officers of the law; but that rule

is too easily to be broken, for any gentleman whom the door-keeper

has sufficient reason to think is not an Officer of Justice, finds the

avenues to these labyrinths too ready for his admission.

[Illustration: page196 A Modern Hell]

On passing the outer-door, they found themselves impeded by a second,

and a third, and each door constructed with a small spy-hole, exhibiting

the ball of a ruffian's eye, intently gazing on and examining their

figures. It is necessary to observe, that if the visitor is known to

be a fair pigeon, or an old crow, he is at once admitted by these

gentlemen, and politely bowed up stairs; and as Merrywell appeared to be

well known, no obstruction was offered, and they proceeded through the

last, which was an iron door, and were shewn directly into the room,

which presented a scene of dazzling astonishment.

On entering, they discovered the votaries of gaming around an oblong

table, covered with green cloth, and the priests of the ceremony in the

centre, one to deal cards and decide events, and another to assist him

in collecting the plunder which should follow such decisions. Being

engaged in the play, but little notice was taken of the arrival of the

party, except by two or three eagle-eyed gentlemen, who, perceiving

there were some _New-comes_{1}

1. Newcomes--The name given to any new faces discovered among

the usual visitants.

~197~~and always keeping business in view, made up to Merrywell, began

to be very talkative--was happy to see him--hoped he had been well--and

congratulated him on the introduction of his friends--took snuff, and

handed the box round with all the appearance of unaffected friendship.

“These,” said Tom Dashall to his Cousin, drawing him on one side, “are

the Proprietors{1} of this concern;

1 In order that the class of men by whom houses of this

description are generally kept, and to shew the certainty

they have of accumulating riches, as well as to guard the

young and inexperienced against being decoyed, it may not be

amiss to animadvert upon a few of the most prominent and

well known.

No. 7, Pall Mall, is kept by B----l, who has been a public

and noted gambler for these forty years, and is generally

termed the Father of the Houses. He was at one time a poor

man, but now, by his honest earnings, is in possession of

some tens of thousands. It is said that he was originally a

stable-boy, and, in process of time, arose to be a jobber in

horse-flesh, but has at length feathered his nest with

_pigeons down_.

No. 77, St. James's Street, nick-named the Two Sevens, kept

by Messrs. T. C. C. T. is a well-known House, where things

are conducted with great civility and attention, and the

best possible treatment may generally be relied upon, though

they are rather sparing of refreshments, and apt to grumble

if a customer has a run of good luck. A Prussian Officer,

however, not long ago, kick'd up a devil of a row about

losing a very large sum of money; but it is scarcely

necessary to add it was all in vain, for there was no

redress.

The produce of this Bank, (which Paddy B---- calls the

Devil's Exchequer, whence you can draw neither principal nor

interest,) furnishes elegant houses and equipages, both in

town and country, and, it is possible, may one day or other

send a Member to Parliament, or a General to the field.

No. 10, King Street, St. James's, is conducted by old and

young D----s L----r; the father is too old in iniquity

to remember his progress from poverty to affluence.

No. 5, King-street, is kept by Mr. A----l; the former

residing at No. 3, Leicester-place, the latter No. 3,----

Street; and both live in prime style. The former, in his

youth, was an errand boy, and he became so willing in doing

little jobs, that his employers have paid him most

handsomely. The latter gentleman, who may be seen frequently

driving a dennet, and looking both sides of the road at

once, is a chip of the old block: but as it is not our

intention to visit the sins of the sou upon the father, we

shall not enter into a minute examination of him.

No. 6, in Bury-street, is only about a year's standing.

This table was set up by a broken adventurer, Capt. B----,

with Mr. ----, a jeweller, and a man whose agents keep a

house of ill fame, no way inferior in attribute to his

house in Bury-street. They commenced with narrow funds,

and now, thank the gulls, are independent.

The next door, No. 7, is held by M----g, a map-seller,

living at Charing Cross; Carl--s, formerly an under-

strapper at Ben--t's, living at King's Road, Chelsea; H----ll,

a tallow-chandler, living at No. 8, Bury-street; and

his brother, a brick-layer, residing somewhere off Grosvenor

Place. These fellows have carried on their depredations for

some time, but now have closed for awhile, being one of the

houses against whom a Jew, named Portugal John, and another

named the Young Black Diamond, have commenced proceedings,

for sums had and received, and by indictment.

No. 28, in the same street, is the property of one O----

d, formerly a menial servant, and not long ago a porter to

B----l.

These examples shew by incontestible inference, that the

keepers of those tables have an advantage, which renders

their success certain, while it fleeces the men who attend

them. We always have seen these Proprietors in the same

unchangeable affluence, driving their equipages, keeping

their country houses, &c. &c. while those who play

invariably sink into poverty. It has been often--very often

remarked, that young men who commence this career of folly

and vice, by degrees lose that freshness and fashionable

appearance which they at first possessed, and at last are

seen wandering about St. James's Park _counting the trees_,

and dining on a _gravel hash_, for want of more genial fare,

in a threadbare coat, half-polished boots, a greasy hat, and

a dirty cravat; while the plunderers of their happiness and

property are driving by them in luxury, enjoying their

pleasure by contrast with their victim, and sneering at his

miseries.

Of all the vices which deform this Metropolis (and there are

not a few) the most ruinous is that of Rouge et Noir

gambling, for that is practised in the day time, and it is a

matter of astonishment to think that it has remained

undisturbed by the law, and hitherto unnoticed by the Press.

At this moment no less than twelve of these Hells are open

to the public in the noon-day; and no less than five or six

profane the Sabbath by their sinful practices. Although

London has been, time out of mind, infested with the imps of

play, yet it was not until within these last ten or fifteen

years that they dared open their dens to the honest light of

day. About that period, or a very short time before, Rouge

et Noir was imported, amongst other fashionable things, from

France; and to this game we are indebted for the practice of

gambling in the day-light.

It is impossible to put down the vice of Gaming wholly, and

not all the various enactments of the legislature against it

have succeeded; but that the ruinous and infamous practice

of indulging that vice in the midst of crowded day should be

suffered, for upwards of sixteen years, in the centre of

British society, when it can easily be suppressed, calls

forth our wonder, and gives a stronger proof to us that our

Societies for the Suppression of Vice, &c. &c. are shadows

with a name. When the Hazard tables open, it is at an hour

when the respectable and controlled youths of London are

within the walls of their homes; few are abroad except the

modern man of _ton_, the rake, the sot, the robber, and the

vagabond; and the dangers of gaming on these orders of

society is little indeed, when compared with the baneful

effects of that vice upon the mercantile youth of London. It

is to this class, and to the youth of the middling orders of

society, that gaming is destructive, and it is upon these

that the Rouge et Noir tables cast the most fatal influence.

Young men of this order cannot in general be absent from

their families after midnight, the hour when the nocturnal

Hells formerly yawned upon their victims; but now the

introduction of Rouge et Noir has rendered the abominable

track of play a morning and evening's lounge, set forth in

all the false glare which the artful proprietors can invent

to deceive the thoughtless; and thus it affords

opportunities and temptations to such youth almost

irresistible.

When the glittering of London pleasures first meets the eye

of a young man placed upon the road of a mercantile life, or

when he enters any of the multifarious departments in the

machine of society which always lead the industrious and

prudent to honourable emolument, he too frequently

misconceives the fashionable gamester's character, and

confounds his crimes with elegant accomplishments. The road

to pleasure is broad, and the gates of these Hells are open

to him at hours when he can be absent, and can indulge his

whim without suspicion--for at first he looks upon his new

enjoyment but a mere whim, which he can abandon at any

moment. But how different is the proof! He goes on--his new

made wings carry him through a region of delight, and he

believes himself to possess the powers of the eagle--still

lighter he ascends, and the solid earth on which he formerly

trod in safety, recedes immeasurably from his giddy eye--at

length his wings prove wax, they melt before the sun, and

the victim of his own folly tumbles into the abyss of

destruction.

It is no uncommon thing, nay, we will positively declare it

to be a very frequent practice of these misled young men,

when they have been initiated, and have the temporary

command of money belonging to their employers, to go to the

Rouge et Noir tables, armed (as they think) with

impenetrable armour--a large sum; and, in the hope of

profiting to a certain amount, risk that property, the loss

of which would be the loss of every thing dear to them in

society. They believe, from the greatness of the amount they

possess, that they can command a small gain, and not for a

moment doubt they will be able to replace or return the

money entrusted to their care; but little do they know the

fickleness of luck, and less do they suspect the odds and

imposing roguery arrayed against them. Their first loss is

trifling, but they have to win that back iu addition to

their expected profits; for this purpose they stake a larger

sum, which, if they lose, increases their task, and so on,

until the half-frantic victims see no hope but desperation,

and their remaining stock is placed upon the chance of a

single card. The event closes, and the man who yesterday

enjoyed the good opinion of the world, and the esteem and

confidence of his friends, to-day becomes the veriest

outcast of society! These are common cases, one of which,

for example, we will describe as the facts occurred:--In the

year 1816, a Clerk, possessing the highest reputation,

became a frequenter of a Rouge et Noir table. From the

nature of his employment, he had daily the command of large

sums, which, for a short time, he risked at play

successfully. One day, however, he brought with him his

employer's money, to the amount of 1700L. the whole of

which, in two days, he lost. We may judge of the unhappy

young man's feelings by his subsequent conduct. He wrote a

confession of the affair to the man he wronged, retired to a

tavern, and blew his brains out!

These gaming-tables open at half-past twelve o'clock,

continue their orgies until five, and recommence at seven in

the evening. How many young men are passing their doors at

these hours with the property of others in their pockets!--

and what a temptation to risk it! It would seem as if these

places were set up as shops designed chiefly for the

accommodation of mid-day dealers in ill-fortune, as if

levelled directly at those men who cannot or will not spend

their nights in gambling; and how the proprietors contrive

to escape detection and punishment is surprising,

considering that the law affords ample means to put them

down.

~200~~they know their customers, and place themselves here to watch the

progress of their gains. Their attentions are always directed to the

new-comers. Remorseless, avaricious, and happy--unmarked with the lines

of care, which contract and deform the faces of their victims, “They

smile and smile, and murder while they smile.” They will explain

the fairness of the game, and tell you of the great losses they have

sustained; but as this is no place for explanation, we must look on and

say nothing.”

By this time, Merrywell and Mortimer were mingled in the throng at the

table. Sparkle was engaged in conversation with an old acquaintance, a

profusion of money was flying about, and a large heap or bank was placed

in the centre. All was anxiety, and, for a few moments, no sound was

heard, but the awful numbers of the eventful dealer; every countenance

was hushed in expectation, and every eye was fixed upon the coming card,

which should decide the fate of hundreds. It was an awful moment to

every one engaged in the play; but the pause was succeeded with a sort

of harlequinade movement, to a scene of confusion and uproar scarcely to

be conceived.

The appearance at the door of half a dozen persons armed with pistols,

rushing past the guardians, and bearing ~201~~away all before them, had

such an instantaneous effect upon the company, that they all arose,

as it were, to receive them, and the leader of the party threw himself

suddenly upon the pile of Bank-notes in the centre of the table, with

intent to seize the whole bank.

Confusion and dismay were now visibly depicted on every countenance, for

some, actuated by desperation at the prospect of ruin, and others by the

urgings of avarice, determined to have a scramble for the notes, which

they commenced most furiously, each one securing as much as he could to

himself. There was tumbling and tossing, and pulling and shoving, mouths

stuffed with hundreds, hundreds of mouths that were supperless, and

likely to continue so, unless they could now make sure of something.

Bank paper was literally going for nothing. However, the pistols being

the most powerful, the armed forces succeeded in seizing the greatest

share of the stock, and a negative sort of silence was at length

restored. The party was materially decreased; for, seeing they were

betrayed, every one, after an endeavour to secure a share of the spoil,

deemed it necessary to make good his retreat; and among the rest,

our party, who had not interfered with the play, or assisted in the

entertainment, soon found themselves in the street.

“Egad,” said Sparkle, “I think we are in luck to escape so easily;

we might have been compelled to make our appearance at Bow Street

to-morrow, an occurrence I would studiously avoid.”

“Well done, old steady,” said Tom; “it is not long, you know, since you

was there, after a night's lodging in the neighbourhood.”

“That was under very different circumstances,” continued Sparkle; “in

defence of a woman I would risk my life at any time, but I would by

no means incur the imputation of being a gambler--it is a character I

abhor. I have before said I would never venture into those dens again,

to herd with swindlers of all descriptions.”

“They all seem gay fellows, too,” said Bob.

“Yes,” replied Sparkle; “but the character and conduct of a young man

has ere now been altered in one night: the evil effects produced by

initiation to those Hells are incalculable.”

“Moralizing at midnight,” said Tom; “an excellent title for a volume

_sparkling_ contemplations.”

~202~~“To be written by the Hon. Tom Dashall, or the Merry Devil of

Piccadilly,” was the reply.

“Huzza!” said Merrywell, “if this is the case, our time will not be lost

in this excursion. Did you hear that Lord ---- has been compelled to put

down his establishment in consequence of his losses at play? pray don't

forget to mention that in the work.”

“Tis no new thing,” continued Sparkle, “for Lords of the present day,

since I believe there are few of the nobility who are not either Greeks

or Pigeons; indeed, the list of visitors to these places contains names

of many persons who should set better examples to the humbler classes of

the community; for the unfortunate results of this too fatal propensity

to parents and society have been severely felt. Among many instances

on record, a very interesting one is related of a young Subaltern in a

regiment of cavalry, who, by successive losses, was reduced to such a

state of distress, as to form the desperate resolution of trying the

road. In a moment of agony, he accidentally met with an opportunity

which seemed to favour his design, having learned that a certain

Baronet, recently returned from India with abundance of wealth, had laid

it out on landed estates in England, and that he would on a certain day

cross the country with a large sum of money, after collecting his rents.

“He laid his plan for a meeting on a retired spot, and succeeded in

stopping the carriage--' Your money or your life,' said he, presenting

his pistol with a trembling hand. The Baronet, perceiving there was a

sort of gentlemanly air about him which indicated something more than

might be calculated on in the character of a highwayman, presented him

with his purse, a watch, and a valuable diamond ring, remarking, he

could not help conceiving that he was unaccustomed to the trade, and

that it was most desirable he should abandon it for ever. The

young Officer, though considerably confused and embarrassed by this

observation, was not to be disappointed of his booty, returned this

property, and demanded the larger sum, which for safety had been

concealed in the bottom of the carriage. The manner however in which

this was done, only served to confirm the suspicions of the Baronet,

which he could not help expressing, as he acknowledged the accuracy of

the Highwayman's information, and produced the property, observing, he

was sure that ~203~~circumstances of no common kind could have impelled

him to this flagrant breach of the laws. He asked as a favour, that he

would grant him an interview at some future period, pledging his honour

that he should have no occasion to repent such a singular mark of

confidence.

“The Officer replied that he had, and he felt he could with safety

trust both his life and his honour in the veracity of Sir ----, and

appointed a meeting at the London Coffee House, Ludgate Hill, only

stipulating, that at such meeting both parties were to be unattended.

As the day of meeting approached, the Baronet thought seriously of the

solicited rencontre, and after enjoining perfect secresy on the part of

his friend, Col. ----, entreated him to be his companion. The Colonel

laughed at the idea, that any man who had robbed another should so

indiscreetly place his life in his hands, had no conception of his

keeping his appointment, and solemnly assured the Baronet that he would

in no case divulge who or what he was, that he might become acquainted

with.

“The Colonel ridiculed his friend's credulity as they entered the house,

and were shewn to a private room. The appointed hour was eight in the

evening, and, as the clock of St. Paul's struck, a Gentleman inquiring

for Sir ---- was shewn into the room--wine was ordered, and for an hour

a general conversation on the popular topics of the day ensued, when the

Gentleman, evidently under deeply impressed feelings of embarrassment

and disappointment, in which the Colonel seemed to partake, arose, and

politely took his leave.

“' Well,' said the Baronet, 'what think you of my Highwayman now 1--am I

not right?--is he not a gentleman?'

“' And this is the robber, is it, Sir?' said the Colonel--'Be assured

he shall swing for it--why, Sir, I know him well, he is a ---- in my own

regiment.'

“'Hold,' said the Baronet, 'don't be rash, remember the solemn promise

you have given, and do not deceive me--I hold you bound to me, and will

not permit you to break your engagement--I have better objects in view

than the death of a fellow-creature.'

“He then requested to be informed of the general tenor of the young

man's conduct, which he found to be excellent, and that he was an

indefatigable officer--'Indeed,' said the Colonel, 'it would give me the

greatest ~204~~pain to lose him--an incomparably affectionate husband

and father. He has but one vice, to which may be attributed his

destruction, viz. his inordinate passion for gaming; but I cannot feel

justified in screening so flagrant an offender--the law must take its

course.'

“'Moderate your indignation,' said the worthy Baronet, assuming a more

serious tone, 'and remember you must be personalty answerable to me for

any disclosure you may think proper to make; and that inasmuch as you

injure him, you must injure me. You have already given him so high a

character in every respect but one, that I must interest you further

in his behalf, and beg you to assist me in my endeavours to reclaim,

instead of punishing him.'

“The Colonel was surprised; but the Baronet was inflexible. In vain

he urged that the magnitude of the crime utterly precluded such a

proceeding.

“' It must be done,' said the Baronet, 'it shall be done. Leave all the

consequences to me; he has now left us in extreme, though suppressed

agitation--There is no time to lose--fly to save him.'

“The Colonel expressed his readiness to try the experiment.

“' Then,' said the Baronet, 'follow him immediately, assure him of

my forgiveness, and that if he will pledge his word to forsake this

dangerous vice, what he has already obtained he may hold as a gift, and

I will add whatever may be necessary to extricate him from any temporary

embarrassment.'

“It was an important embassy--life or death was to be decided by it. The

Colonel took his departure, certain of finding him at home taking leave

of his family, and, reaching his habitation a short time after his

arrival, witnessed a scene of misery which, although he had partly

anticipated, he could not have conceived. He found him, surrounded by

his wife and children, in an agony of desperation and despair.

“When he entered the apartment, the poor culprit, convinced by the

presence of his Colonel that all was lost, fell on his knees, and

supplicated if possible that his fame, not his life, might be spared for

the sake of his afflicted but innocent and injured family. Language has

no power to describe the surprise and consternation with which, after a

severe lecture, he received the joyful intelligence of ~205~~which

his Colonel was the bearer. He returned with his Commanding Officer

to ---- Square, where he was received by the Baronet as a repentant

friend; and has lived to repair his error, and become deservedly

distinguished as an ornament to society, civil and religious as well as

military.”

“That must be truly gratifying to the worthy Baronet,{1}' said Tom.

“No doubt of it,” continued Sparkle, “it must be a source of continued

pleasure to find his labours have had so beneficial a result, having in

all probability saved a whole family from destruction. Surely it may be

said, that

“Among the idiot pranks of Wealth's abuse,

None seem so monstrous, none have less excuse,

Than those which throw an heritage away

Upon the lawless chance of desperate play;

Nor is there among knaves a wretch more base

Than he who steals it with a smiling face,

Who makes diversion to destruction tend,

And thrives upon the ruin of a friend.”

--“Yet the Greek, like the swindler{l} and the horse jockey,

1 Swindler--Is a term originally derived from the German,

Schwindel, which signifies merely to cheat. It was first

introduced as a cant term, and used to signify obtaining of

goods, credit, or money, under false pretences. It has since

had a legislative adoption, being parliamentary recognised

by an Act for the prevention of it. The artifices, schemes,

and crimes, resorted to by these gentry, are so numerous,

that it would be impossible to describe them all. One mode

of practice, however, is not uncommon in London.

Three or four swell Jews contrive to hire a large house with

some spare rooms, in the City, that are turned into

warehouses, in which are a number of casks, boxes, &e.

filled with sand; and also a quantity of large sugar-loaves

in appearance, which are only clay done up in blue paper,

but corded and made up with great nicety.

An elegant Counting-house is likewise furnished with books

and other apparatus, to deceive the eye and give the

appearance of extensive business, great regularity, and

large property. The Clerks in attendance are a set of Jews,

who are privy to the scheme, and equally ready at fraud as

those who profess to be the Principals.

A Dining-room elegantly furnished upon the _mace_,* receives

you

* The Mace--Is a person who carries all the appearance of a

great and rich man, with servants, carriages, &c. for the

purpose of defrauding tradesmen and others, by all manner of

plans most calculated to entrap the parties they intend to

dupe.

whenever it is necessary to admit of your visits; a Black

Servant opens the street-door, and the foot of the stair-

case presents surtouts, boots, livery-cloths, a large blue

coat with a yellow cape, and habiliments in which the

opulent! array their servants. With these and similar

merchant-like appearances Trade is commenced, and persons

dispatched to provincial manufacturing towns, to buy various

articles; for the amount of the first purchases, bills are

drawn upon the Firm, and even before the goods are pack'd

up, and sent according to order, the acceptances are paid,

and, by this means, credit is partly established, which,

once accomplished, they are in want of large assortments for

exportation upon credit, at one, two, and three months. The

goods are accordingly chosen and forwarded to their

associates in London, where they are immediately disposed

of at 20 or 30 per cent, cheaper than the prime cost, and

the money realised. The first bills become due, are noted,

and protested. The second are presented, but the House has

stopped payment, and the Owners are bankrupts. By the time

the third month's bills become due, the docket is struck,

the Assignees chosen, and there is not sixpence in the pound

left for the Creditors. Petitions are ineffectually

presented to the Chancellor, for a number of fictitious

Creditors, of the same profession and persuasion, over-swear

the just ones, and by exceeding them in number and value,

the House obtains its certificate, and has again the power

of committing similar depredations.

Perhaps the most daring and systematic proceeding of this

kind was that lately detected in the conspiracy of Mosely

Wolfe and his confederates, for which he is now suffering

the sentence of the law.

~206~~prides himself on his success, boasts of his being _down as a

nail_, and--”

“_Down as a nail!_” said Bob, “I don't remember hearing that expression

before.”

“_Down as a hammer, or Down as a nail_” continued Sparkle, “are cant or

slang terms made use of among gamblers, and are synonimous with being

up; and it must be confessed that there are many ups and downs amongst

them. These flash words are well understood by many a young Greek, who

perhaps knows nothing of the Greek Testament, although the use of them

has proved in some cases beyond the comprehension of a Judge. Hence the

necessity of knowing Life; for if a man gets familiarized with low life,

he will necessarily be up, and consequently stand a great chance of

being a rising genius. How proper it must be to know how to get a rise

upon a fellow, or, in other words, to get him in a line!

“A learned Judge once, examining a queer covy, a flash customer, or a

rum fellow, asked him his reason for suspecting the prisoner at the

bar of stealing a watch, (which among the lads is scientifically

termed nimming a toiler, or ~207~~nabbing a clicker,) replied as

follows:--'Why, your honour, only because you see as how I was up to

him.'--'How do you mean, what is being up to him? '--' Why, bless your

heart, I was down upon him, and had him bang.' But still perceiving the

learned Gentleman's want of nous, he endeavoured to explain by saying,

That he was _up to his gossip_,--that he stagged him, for he was not

to be done--that he knew the trick, and was up the moment the chap

came into the Cock and Hen Club, where he was tucking in his grub and

bub.--Had the learned Judge been up himself, much time and trouble might

have been saved; and indeed the importance of being down as a nail, to a

man of fashion, is almost incalculable; for this reason it is, that men

of high spirit think it no derogation from their dignity or rank, to be

well acquainted with all the slang of the coachman and stable-boy,

all the glossary of the Fancy, and all the mysterious language of

the scamps, the pads, the divers, and all upon the lay, which, by an

attentive and apt scholar, may easily be procured at a Gaming-house.

“Of Hells in general, it may fairly be asserted, that they are

infernally productive; no other line of business can be compared to

these money mills, since they are all thriving concerns, the proprietors

of which keep their country houses, extensive establishments, dashing

equipages; and

“While they have money they ride it in chaises.

And look very big upon those that have none.”

“It certainly is a pity that men do not keep constantly in their

recollection, that no calculation of chances can avail them, and that

between the après, the limitation of stakes, and other manouvres, the

table must eventually be an immense winner.

“For Greeks stick at nothing to gain their own ends, And they sacrifice

all their acquaintance and friends;

And thus luckless P'----n, to gain what he'd lost,

Put his faith in a Greek, which he knows to his cost; Join'd a bank, as

he thought, when the sly Greeking elf Of a friend soon contriv'd for

to break it himself. You credulous pigeons! I would have you beware, Of

falling yourselves in a similar snare.”

“We ought to consider ourselves greatly obliged,” said Merry well, “for

the accurate description of characters ~208~~you have given. But have

you heard the report that is now in circulation, that a certain

Marquis of high military celebrity, and whose property is, or was, very

considerable, has lost almost his last shilling?”

“I,” said Sparkle, “am seldom surprised at such rumours, particularly of

persons who are known to be players, for they are rich and poor in rapid

succession; but if there be any truth in the report, there is a fine

example of perseverance before him--for Lord ----, after a long run of

ill-luck, being refused the loan of an additional rouleau,{1} on

account of his score being rather long, left the company in dudgeon, and

determining on revenge, actually opened another Hell in opposition to

the one he had left, and by that means recovered all his money.”

“That was well done,” rejoined Tallyho.

“It was rather too much of a trading concern for a Lord,” said Tom.

“Not for a gambling Lord,” replied Merry well; “for there is in fact

nothing beneath a Greek, in the way of play: besides, it was a trying

situation, and required some desperate attempt--they care not who they

associate with, so they do but bring grist to the mill.”

“The confusion of persons and characters at a Gaming-house,” said

Sparkle, “are almost incredible, all ranks and descriptions are mingled

together.

“What confusion of titles and persons we see Amongst Gamesters, who

spring out of every degree, From the prince to the pauper; all panting

for play, Their fortune, their time, and their life pass away; Just as

mingled are Pigeons, for 'tis no rebuke For a Greek to pluck all, from a

Groom to a Duke.”

“It is too true,” said Dashall, “and equally as certain, that there are

continually new comers ready and willing to be duped, or at least ready

to risk their property, notwithstanding the warnings they have from

their more experienced friends.”

“And is there no possibility of obtaining fair play?” inquired Bob, “or

redress for being pigeon'd, as you term it?”

1 A Rouleau--Is a packet containing one hundred guineas; but

as guineas are not quite so fashionable in the present day

as they formerly were, some of these Houses, for the

accommodation of their customers, circulate guinea-notes

upon their bankers.

~209~~“None,” said Sparkle; “for if men will play at bowls, they must

expect rubbers; and the system of confederacy is carried on every where,

though perhaps with most success in those professed Gambling-houses,

which young men of property ought carefully to avoid.”

By this time they had reached the end of St. James's Street; it was

therefore proposed by Sparkle that they should separate, particularly

as it was growing late, or rather early in the morning; and, as they had

been in some degree baffled in their attempt to take a minute survey

of the proceedings in Pall Mall, they had no decided object in

view. Accordingly they parted, Tom and Bob pursuing their way along

Piccadilly, while Sparkle, Merrywell, and Mortimer, proceeded down Bond

Street.

“I am by no means satisfied,” said Tom, “with this evening's ramble, nor

exactly pleased to find our friend Sparkle is getting so sentimental.”

“He is, at least,” said Tallyho, “very communicative and instructive--I

should feel less embarrassment at a future visit to one of those

places, though, I can assure you, I should carefully avoid the chance of

becoming a pigeon; but to know these things is certainly useful.”

“We must lay our plans better for the future,” said Tom--“example is

better than precept; and, as for Sparkle, I strongly suspect he is

studying a part in All for Love, or the World well lost. That kind of

study is too laborious for me, I can't bear to be fettered; or if it be

true that it is what we must all come to, my time is not yet arrived.

Though I confess Miss Mortimer has many attractions not to be overlooked

by an attentive observer; at the same time I perceive this Mr. Merrywell

is equally assiduous to obtain the young lady's favours.”

By this time they had arrived at home, where, after partaking of

refreshment, they retired to rest.~210~~

CHAPTER XV

“Cataracts of declamation thunder here,

There, forests of no meaning spread the page,

In which all comprehension wanders, lost,

While fields of pleasantry amuse us there

With many descants on a nation's woes.

The rest appears a wilderness of strange,

But gay confusion--roses for the cheeks,

And lilies for the brows of faded age;

Teeth for the toothless, ringlets for the bald,

Heav'n, earth, and ocean, plunder'd of their sweets;

Nectareous essences, Olympian dews,

Sermons and City feasts, and fav'rite airs,

Ethereal journeys, submarine exploits,

And Katerfelto with his hair on end,

At his own wonders wond'ring for his bread.”

“WELL,” said Tom, “it must be confessed that a Newspaper is a most

convenient and agreeable companion to the breakfast-table,” laying

down the _Times_ as he spoke: “it is a sort of literary hotch-potch,

calculated to afford amusement suited to all tastes, rank-, and degrees;

it contains

“Tales of love and maids mistaken,

Of battles fought, and captives taken.”

“Then, I presume,” said Bob, “you have been gratified and interested in

the perusal?”

“It is impossible to look down the columns of a newspaper,” replied Tom,

“without finding subjects to impart light; and of all the journals

of the present day, the _Times_ appears to me the best in point of

information and conduct; but I spoke of newspapers generally, there

is such a mixture of the _utile et dulce_, that the Merchant and the

Mechanic, the Peer, the Poet, the Prelate, and the Peasant, are all

deeply concerned in its contents. In truth, a newspaper is so true a

mark of the caprice of Englishmen, that it may justly be styled their

coat of ~211~~arms. The Turkish Koran is not near so sacred to a

rigid Mahometan--a parish-dinner to an Overseer--a turtle-feast to an

Alderman, or an election to a Freeholder, as a Gazette or Newspaper to

an Englishman: by it the motions of the world are watched, and in some

degree governed--the arts and sciences protected and promoted--the

virtuous supported and stimulated--the vicious reproved and

corrected--and all informed.”

“Consequently,” said Bob, “a good Newspaper is really a valuable

article.”

“Doubtless,” continued Tom; “and John Bull--mistake me not, I don't

mean the paper which bears that title--I mean the population of England,

enjoy a Newspaper, and there are some who could not relish their

breakfasts without one; it is a sort of general sauce to every thing,

and to the _quid nunc_ is indispensable--for if one informs him of a

naval armament, he will not fail to toast the Admirals all round in pint

bumpers to each, wishes them success, gets drunk with excessive loyalty,

and goes with his head full of seventy-fours, sixty-fours, frigates,

transports, fire-ships, &c. In its diversified pages, persons of every

rank, denomination, and pursuit, may be informed--the Philosopher, the

Politician, the Citizen, the Handicraftsman, and the Gossip, are regaled

by the novelty of its contents, the minuteness of its details, and the

refreshing arrivals of transactions which occupy the attention of human

beings at the greatest or nearest distances from us--

“----a messenger of grief

Perhaps to thousands, and of joy to some:

What is it but a map of life,

Its fluctuations and its vast concerns?”

It may with propriety be compared to the planetary system: the light

which it diffuses round the mental hemisphere, operates according as

it is seen, felt, understood, or enjoyed: for instance, the Miser

is gladdened by an account of the rise of the stocks--the Mariner

is rejoiced, at the safety of his vessel after a thunder-storm--the

Manufacturer, to hear of the revival of foreign markets--the Merchant,

that his cargo is safely arrived--the Member, that his election is

secured--the Father, that his son is walling to return home--the

Poet, that ~212~~his production has been favourably received by the

public--the Physician, that a difficult cure is transmitting his fame

to posterity--the Actor, that his talents are duly appreciated--the

Agriculturist, that grain fetches a good price--the upright man, that

his character is defended--the poor man, that beer, meat, bread, and

vegetables, are so within his reach that he can assure himself of being

able to obtain a good Sunday's dinner.

“Tho' they differ in narrie, all alike, just the same, Morning

Chronicle, Times, Advertiser, British Press, Morning Post, of News--what

a host We read every day, and grow wiser; The Examiner, Whig--all alive

to the gig, While each one his favourite chooses; Star, Traveller, and

Sun, to keep up the fun, And tell all the world what the news is.”

“Well done,” said Bob, “you seem to have them all at your tongue's end,

and their general contents in your head; but, for my part, I am struck

with surprise to know how it is they find interesting matter enough at

all times to fill their columns.”

“Nothing more easy,” continued Dashall, “especially for a newspaper

whose contents are not sanctioned by authority; in which case they are

so much the more the receptacle of invention--thence--We hear--it is

said--a correspondent remarks--whereas, &c--all which serve to please,

surprise, and inform. We hear, can alter a man's face as the weather

would a barometer--It is said, can distort another like a fit of the

spasm--If, can make some cry--while Suppose, can make others laugh--but

a Whereas operates like an electric shock; and though it often runs the

extremity of the kingdom in unison with the rest, they altogether form

a very agreeable mixture, occasionally interspersed, as opportunity

offers, with long extracts from the last published novel, and an

account of the prevailing fashions. But domestic occurrences form a very

essential part of this folio: thus, a marriage hurts an old maid and

mortifies a young one, while it consoles many a poor dejected husband,

who is secretly pleased to find another fallen into his case--a death,

if of a wife, makes husbands envy the widower, while, perhaps, some one

of the women who censure his alleged want of ~213~~decent sorrow, marry

him within a month after--in fact, every person is put in motion by a

Newspaper.

“Here various news is found, of love and strife;

Of peace and war, health, sickness, death, and life;

Of loss and gain, of famine and of store;

Of storms at sea, and travels on the shore;

Of prodigies and portents seen in air;

Of fires and plagues, and stars with blazing hair;

Of turns of fortune, changes in the state,

The falls of favourites, projects of the great.”

“It is a bill of fare, containing all the luxuries as well as

necessaries, of life. Politics, for instance, are the roast beef of the

times; essays, the plum pudding; and poetry the fritters, confections,

custards, and all the _et cotera_ of the table, usually denominated

trifles. Yet the four winds are not liable to more mutability than

the vehicles of these entertainments; for instance, on Monday, it

is whispered--on Tuesday, it is rumoured--on Wednesday, it is

conjectured--on Thursday, it is probable--on Friday, it is positively

asserted--and, on Saturday, it is premature. But notwithstanding this,

some how or other, all are eventually pleased; for, as the affections

of all are divided among wit, anecdote, poetry, prices of stocks, the

arrival of ships, &c. a Newspaper is a repository where every one has

his hobby-horse; without it, coffee-houses, &c. would be depopulated,

and the country squire, the curate, the exciseman, and the barber, and

many others, would lose those golden opportunities of appearing so very

wise as they do.

A Newspaper may also be compared to the Seasons. Its information varies

on the roll of Time, and much of it passes away as a Winter, giving many

a bitter pang of the death of a relative or hopeful lover; it is as a

Spring, for, in the time of war and civil commotion, its luminary, the

editor, like the morning sun, leads Hope forward to milder days and

happier prospects--the smiles of peace; it is the heart's Summer

calendar, giving news of marriages and births for heirs and patrons;

it is the Autumn of joy, giving accounts of plenty, and guarding the

avaricious against the snares of self-love, and offering arguments in

favour of humanity. It is more; a Newspaper is one of the most faithful

lessons that can be represented to our reflections, for, while it is the

interpreter ~214~of the general economy of nature, it is a most kind and

able instructress to improve ourselves.

What are our lives but as the ephemeral appearance of an advertisement?

Our actions but as the actions of a popular contest? Our hopes, fears,

exultations, but as the cross readings of diurnal events? And although

grief is felt at the perusal of accidents, offences, and crimes, which

are necessarily and judiciously given, there is in every good Newspaper

an impartial record, an abstract of the times, a vast fund of useful

knowledge; and, finally, no person has reason, after perusing it, to

rise without being thankful that so useful a medium is offered to his

understanding; at least, this is my opinion.”

“And now you have favoured me with this opinion,” rejoined Tallyho,

“will you be kind enough to inform me to what fortunate circumstance I

am indebted for it?”

“The question comes very apropos,” continued Tom--“for I had nearly

forgotten that circumstance, so that you may perhaps be inclined to

compare my head to a newspaper, constantly varying from subject to

subject; but no matter, a novelty has just struck my eye, which I

think will afford us much gratification: it is the announcement of

an exhibition of engravings by living artists, under the immediate

patronage of his Majesty, recently opened in Soho Square, through the

public spirited exertions of Mr. Cooke, a celebrated engraver--And now

I think of it, Mortimer and his Sister intend visiting Somerset

House--egad! we will make a morning of it in reviewing the Arts--what

say you?”

“With all my heart,” returned Bob.

“Be it so, then,” said Tom--“So-ho, my boy--perhaps we may meet the

love-sick youth, poor Sparkle; he has certainly received the wound of

the blind urchin--I believe we must pity him--but come, let us prepare,

we will lounge away an hour in walking down Bond Street--peep at the

wags and the wag-tails, and take Soho Square in our way to Somerset

House. I feel myself just in the humour for a bit of gig, and 1 promise

you we will make a night of it.”

The preliminaries of their route being thus arranged, in half an hour

they were on their road down Bond Street, marking and remarking upon

circumstances and subjects as they arose.

“Who is that Lady?” said Bob, seeing Tom bow as a dashing carriage passed

them.

“That is a Lady Townley, according to the generally

received term.”

“A lady of title, as I suspected,” said Bob.

“Yes, yes,” replied Tom Dashall, “a distinguished personage, I can

assure you--one of the most dashing demireps of the present day, basking

at this moment in the plenitude of her good fortune. She is however

deserving of a better fate: well educated and brought up, she was early

initiated into the mysteries and miseries of high life. You seem to

wonder at the title I have given her.”

“I am astonished again, I confess,” replied Bob; “but it appears there

is no end to wonders in London--nor can I guess how you so accurately

know them.”

“Along residence in London affords opportunities for

discovery.

“As the French very justly say, that _Il n'y a que le premier pas qui

coûte_, and just as, with all the sapience of medicine, there is but

a degree betwixt the Doctor and the Student, so, after the first step,

there is but a degree betwixt the Demirep and the gazetted Cyprian, who

is known by head-mark to every insipid Amateur and Fancier in the town.

“The number of these frail ones is so great, that, if I were to attempt

to go through the shades and gradations, the distinctions and titles,

from the promiscuous Duchess to the interested Marchande de mode, and

from her down to the Wood Nymphs of the English Opera, there would

be such a longo ordine génies, that although it is a very interesting

subject, well worthy of investigation, it would occupy a considerable

portion of time; however, I will give you a slight sketch of some

well known and very topping articles. Mrs. B----m, commonly called

B----g, Mrs. P----n, and Mrs. H----d, of various life. “The modern

Pyrrha, B----g, has a train as long as an eastern monarch, but it is

a train of lovers. The Honourable B---- C----n, that famous gentleman

miller, had the honour at one time (like Cromwell,) of being the

Protector of the Republic. The infamous Greek, bully, informer and

reprobate W----ce, was her accomplice and paramour at another. Lord

V----l boasted her favours at a third period; and she wished to look

upon him in a fatherly ~216~~light; but it would not do. Mr. C. T. S.

the nephew of a great naval character, is supposed to have a greater

or prior claim there; but the piebald harlequin is owned not by “Light

horse, but by heavy.”

“Mr. P----y, however, was so struck with the increased

attractions of this Cyprian, that he offered to be her protector during

a confinement which may be alarming to many, but interesting to a few.

This was being doubly diligent, and accordingly as it was two to one in

his favour, no wonder he succeeded in his suit. The difficulties which

Madame laboured under were sufficient to decide her in this youth's

favour; and the preference, upon such an occasion, must have been highly

flattering to him. On the score of difficulties, Cyprians are quite in

fashion; for executions and arrests are very usual in their mansions,

and the last comer has the exquisite felicity of relieving them.

“Although this dashing Lady was the daughter of a bathing woman at

Brighton, she was not enabled to keep her head above water.

“I must not forget Poll P----n, whose select friends have such cause

to be proud of lier election. This Diana is not descended from a member

of the Rump Parliament, nor from a bum bailiff; but was the daughter

of a bumboat woman at Plymouth. She has, however, since that period,

commenced business for herself; and that in such a respectable and

extensive line, that she counts exactly seven thousand customers! all

regularly booked. What a delectable amusement to keep such a register!

_Neanmoins_, or _nean plus_, if you like. It is reported that the noble

Y---- was so delighted with her at the Venetian fête given by Messrs.

W--ll--ms and D--h--r--ty, that he gave the Virgin Unmasked several very

valuable presents, item, a shawl value one hundred guineas, &c. and

was honoured by being put on this Prime Minister of the Court of Love's

list--number Seven thousand and one! What a fortunate man!

“Mrs. H----d is lineally descended, not from William the Conqueror,

but from W----s the coachman. She lived, for a considerable time, in

a mews, and it was thought that it was his love for the _Muses_ which

attached C---- L---- so closely to her. She was seduced at a most

indelicately juvenile age by a Major M----l, who protected her but

a short time, and then deserted her. Then ~217~~she became what the

Cyprians term Lady Townly, till Mr. H----d, a youth with considerable

West India property in expectation, married her.

“On this happy occasion, her hymeneal flame burned with so much warmth

and purity, that she shared it with a linen-draper, and the circumstance

became almost immediately known to the husband! This was a happy

presage of future connubial felicity! The very day before this domestic

exposure, and the happy vigil of Mr. H----d's happier “_jour des

noces_,” the darling of the Muses or Mewses, Mr. L---- procured Lady

H----d's private box for her at one of the theatres, whither she and

Mrs. CI----y, the mistress of an officer of that name, repaired in the

carriage of the Mews lover, which has become completely “the Demirep or

Cyprian's Diligence,” and these patterns for the fair sex had poured out

such plentiful libations to Bacchus, that her ladyship's box exhibited

the effects of their devotions! What a regale for the Princess of

Madagascar!

“The guardians, or trustees, of Mr. H----d now withheld his property,

and Madame assisted him into the King's Bench, during which time she

kept terms with Mr. L---- at Oxford. On her return, she got acquainted

with a Capt. Cr----ks, whom she contrived soon afterwards to lodge, in

the next room to her husband, in the Bench; but to whom she kindly gave

the preference in her visits.

“Whether C---- L----, W--lk--s the linen-draper, or Capt. C----k,

be the most favoured swain, or swine, I venture not to say; but the

former has devoted his time, his chariot, and his female acquaintances'

boxes in public to her. As a pledge of his love, she helped herself to

a loose picture of great value belonging to him, which very nearly fell

into the hands of John Doe or Richard Roe, on her husband's account,

afterwards. The palm should, however, certainly be given to Mr. L----,

as he courted her classically, moralized to her sentimentally, sung

psalms and prayed with her fervently, and, on all occasions, treated her

like a lady.”

“Ha,” said a fashionably dressed young man, who approached towards

Dashall, “Ha, my dear fellow, how goes it with you? Haven't seen

you this month; d----d unlucky circumstance--wanted you very much

indeed--glorious sport--_all jolly and bang up_.” ~218~~“Glad to hear

it,” said Tom,--“sorry you should have experienced any wants on my

account.”

“Which way are you going? Come along, I'll tell you of such a

spree--regular, and nothing but--You must know, a few days ago,

sauntering down Bond-street, I overtook Sir G. W. 'Ha! my gay fellow,'

said he, 'I thought you were at Bibury; you're the very man I want. My

brother Jack has lost a rump and dozen to a young one, and we want to

make up a select party, a set of real hardheaded fellows, to share

the feast. I have already recruited Sir M. M., the buck Parson, Lord

Lavender, and Tom Shuffleton. Then there's yourself, I hope, my brother

and I, the young one, and A----'s deputy, the reprobate Curate, whom

we will have to make fun of. We dine at half-past seven, at Long's, and

there will be some sport, I assure you.'

“I accepted the invitation, and met the company before mentioned. A

rump and dozen is always a nominal thing. There was no rump, except

Lavender's, which projects like a female's from the bottom of a

tight-laced pair of stays; and as for the dozen, I believe we drank

nearer three dozen of different expensive wines, which were tasted one

after the other with a quickness of succession, which at last left no

taste, but a taste for more drink, and for all sorts of wickedness.

“This tasting plan is a very successful trick of tavern keepers, which

enables them to carry off half bottles of wine, to swell the reckoning

most amazingly, and so to bewilder people as to the qualities of the

wine, that any thing, provided it be strong and not acid, will go down

at the heel of the evening. It is also a grand manouvre; to intoxicate

a Johnny Raw, and to astonish his weak mind with admiration for the

founder of the feast. Therefore, the old trick of 'I have got some

particularly high-flavoured Burgundy, which Lord Lavender very much

approved t'other day;' and, 'Might I, Sir, ask your opinion of a new

importation of Sillery?' or, 'My Lord, 1 have bought all the Nabob's

East India Madeira,' &c. was successfully practised.

“Through the first course we were stag-hunting, to a man, and killed

the stag just as the second course came on the table. This course was

occupied by a great number of long shots of Sir M. M., and by Lavender

offering to back himself and the buck Parson against any other two

~219~~men in England, as to the number of head of game which they would

bag from sun-rise to sun-set upon the moors. A foot race, and a dispute

as to the odds betted on the second October Meeting, occupied the

third course. The desert was enlivened by a list of ladies of all

descriptions, whose characters were cut up full as ably as the haunch of

venison was carved; and here boasting of success in love was as general

as the custom is base. One man of fashion goes by the name of Kiss and

tell.

“After an hour of hard drinking, as though it had been for a wager, a

number of very manly, nice little innocent and instructive amusements

were resorted to. We had a most excellent maggot race for a hundred; and

then a handycap for a future poney race. We had pitching a guinea into a

decanter, at which the young one lost considerably. We had a raffle

for a gold snuff box, a challenge of fifty against Lord Lavender's

Dusseldorf Pipe, and five hundred betted upon the number of shot to be

put into a Joe Manton Rifle. We played at _te-to-tum_; and the young

one leaped over a handkerchief six feet high for a wager: he performed

extremely well at first, but at last Lavender, who betted against him,

kept plying him so with wine, and daring him to an inch higher and

higher, until at last the young one broke his nose, and lost five

hundred guineas by his boyish diversion.

Now we had a fulminating letter introduced as a hoax upon Shuffleton;

next, devils and broiled bones; then some blasphemous songs from the

Curate, who afterwards fell asleep, and thus furnished an opportunity

for having his face blacked. We then got in a band of itinerant

musicians; put crackers in their pockets; cut off one fellow's tail; and

had a milling match betwixt the baronet in the chair and the stoutest of

them, who, having had spirits of wine poured over his head, refused to

let the candle be put to it!

Peace being restored, a regular supper appeared; and then a regular

set-to at play, where I perceived divers signals thrown out, such as

rubbing of foreheads and chins, taking two pinches of snuff and other

private telegraphic communications, the result of which was, the young

one, just of age, being greeked to a very great amount.

We now sallied forth, like a pack in full cry, with all the loud

expression of mirth and riot, and proceeded to 220~~old 77, which, being

shut up, we swore like troopers, and broke the parlour windows in a

rage. We next cut the traces of a hackney coach, and led the horses into

a mews, ?where we tied them up; coachee being asleep inside the whole

time. We then proceeded to old _Ham-a-dry-ed_, the bacon man's, called

out Fire, and got the old man down to the door in his shirt, when

Lavender ran away with his night-cap, and threw it into the water in

St. James's Square, whilst the Baronet put it in right and left at his

sconce, and told him to hide his d----d ugly masard. This induced him

to come out and call the Watch, during which time the buck Parson got

into his house, and was very snug with the cook wench until the next

evening, when _old fusty mug_ went out upon business.

After giving a view holloa! we ran off, with the Charleys in full cry

after us, when Sir G. W., who had purposely provided himself with a long

cord, gave me one end, and ran to the opposite side of Jermyn Street

with the other in his hand, holding it about two feet from the pavement.

The old Scouts came up in droves, and we had 'em down in a moment, for

every mother's son of the guardians were caught in the trap, and rolled

over each other slap into the kennel. Never was such a prime bit of gig!

They lay stunn'd with the fall--broken lanterns, staves, rattles, Welsh

wigs, night-caps and old hats, were scattered about in abundance, while

grunting, growling, and swearing was heard in all directions. One

old buck got his jaw-bone broken; another staved in two of his crazy

timbers, that is to say, broke a couple of ribs; a third bled from the

nose like a pig; a fourth squinted admirably from a pair of painted

peepers; their numbers however increasing, we divided our forces and

marched in opposite directions; one party sallied along Bond Street,

nailed up a snoosy Charley in his box, and bolted with his lantern: the

others were not so fortunate, for A----'s deputy cushion thumper, the

young one, and the Baronet's brother, got safely lodged in St. James's

Watch-house.

“Broad daylight now glar'd upon us--Lavender retired comfortably upon

Madame la Comtesse in the Bench; Sir M. M. was found chanting Cannons

with some Wood nymphs not an hundred and fifty miles off from Leicester

Square; I had the President to carry home on my shoulders, bundled

to bed, and there I lay sick for four and twenty hours, when a little

inspiring Coniac brought ~221~~me to my senses again, and now I am ready

and ripe for another spree. Stap my vitals if there isn't Lavender--my

dear fellow, adieu--remember me to Charley Sparkle when you see him--by,

by.” And with this he sprung across the road, leaving Bob and his Cousin

to comment at leisure upon his folly.

They were however soon aroused from their reflections by perceiving a

Groom in livery advancing rapidly towards them, followed by a curricle,

moving at the rate of full nine miles per hour.

“Who have we here?” said Bob.

“A character well known,” said Tom; “that is Lady L----, a dashing

female whip of the first order--mark how she manages her tits--take a

peep at her costume and learn while you look.”

“More than one steed must Delia's empire feel Who sits triumphant o'er

the flying wheel; And as she guides it through th' admiring throng, With

what an air she smacks the silken thong!”

The Lady had a small round riding-hat, of black beaver, and sat in the

true attitude of a coachman--wrists pliant, elbows square, she handled

her whip in a scientific manner; and had not Tom declared her sex, Bob

would hardly have discovered it from her outward appearance. She was

approaching them at a brisk trot, greeting her numerous acquaintance as

she passed with familiar nods, at each giving her horses an additional

touch, and pursing up her lips to accelerate their speed; indeed, she

was so intent upon the management of her reins, and her eyes so fixed

upon her cattle, that there was no time for more than a sort of sidelong

glance of recognition; and every additional smack of the whip seem'd to

say, “_Here I come--that's your sort_.” Her whole manner indeed was

very similar to what may be witnessed in Stage-coachmen, Hackneymen,

and fashionable Ruffians, who appear to think that all merit consists in

copying them when they tip a brother whip the go-by, or almost graze the

wheel of a Johnny-raw, and turn round with a grin of self-approbation,

as much as to say--“_What d'ye think of that now, eh f--there's a touch

for you--lord, what a flat you must be!_”

Bob gazed with wonder and astonishment as she passed.

“How?” said he, “do the ladies of London frequently take the whip?--”

~222~~”--Hand of their husbands as well as their horses,” replied

Tom--“often enough, be assured.”

“But how, in the name of wonder, do they learn to drive in this style?”

“Easily enough; inclination and determination will accomplish their

objects. Why, among the softer sex, we have female Anatomists--female

Students in Natural History--Sculptors, and Mechanics of all

descriptions--Shoe-makers and Match-makers--and why not Charioteers?”

“Nay, I am not asking why; but as it appears rather out of the common

way, I confess my ignorance has excited my curiosity on a subject which

seems somewhat out of nature.”

“I have before told you, Nature has nothing to do with Real Life in

London.”

“And yet,” continued Bob, “we are told, and I cannot help confessing the

truth of the assertion, with respect to the ladies, that

“----Loveliness

Needs not the foreign aid of ornament,

But is, when unadorned, adorn'd the most,”

This certainly implies a natural or native grace.”

“Pshaw,” said Dashall, “that was according to the Old school; such

doctrines are completely exploded now-a-days, for Fashion is at variance

with Nature in all her walks; hence, driving is considered one of the

accomplishments necessary to be acquired by the female sex in high life,

by which an estimate of character may be formed: for instance--if a lady

take the reins of her husband, her brother, or a lover, it is strongly

indicative of assuming the mastery; but should she have no courage or

muscular strength, and pays no attention to the art of governing and

guiding her cattle, it is plain that she will become no driver, no whip,

and may daily run the risk of breaking the necks of herself and friends.

If however she should excel in this study, she immediately becomes

masculine and severe, and she punishes, when occasion requires, every

animal within the reach of her lash--acquires an ungraceful attitude and

manner--heats her complexion by over exertion--sacrifices her softness

to accomplish her intentions--runs a risk of having hard hands, and

perhaps a hard heart: at all events she gains unfeminine habits, and

~223~~such as are found very difficult to get rid of, and prides herself

on being the go, the gaze, the gape, the stare of all who see her.”

“A very admirable, and no doubt equally happy state,” quoth Bob, half

interrupting him.

“If she learn the art of driving from the family coachman, it cannot

be doubted but such tuition is more than likely to give her additional

grace, and to teach her all that is polite; and then the pleasure of

such company whilst superintending her studies, must tend to improve her

mind; the freedom of these teachers of coachmanship, and the language

peculiar to themselves, at first perhaps not altogether agreeable, is

gradually worn away by the pride of becoming an accomplished whip--to

know how to _turn a corner in style--tickle Snarler in the ear--cut up

the yelper--take out a fly's eye in bang-up twig_.”

“Excellent! indeed,” cried Bob, charmed with Dashall's irony, and

willing to provoke it farther; “and pray, when this art of driving

is thoroughly learned, what does it tend to but a waste of time, a

masculine enjoyment, and a loss of feminine character--of that sweet,

soft and overpowering submission to and reliance on the other sex,

which, whilst it demands our protection and assistance, arouses our

dearest sympathies--our best interests--attaches, enraptures, and

subdues us?”

“Nonsense,” continued Tom, “you might ask such questions for a

month--who cares about these submissions and reliances--protections and

sympathies--they are not known, at least it is very unfashionable to

acknowledge their existence. Why I have known ladies so infatuated and

affected by an inordinate love of charioteering, that it has completely

altered them, not only as to dress, but manners and feeling, till

at length they have become more at home in the stable than the

drawing-room; and some, that are so different when dressed for dinner,

that the driving habiliments appear like complete masquerade disguises.

Indeed, any thing that is natural is considered quite out of nature; and

this affectation is not wholly confined to the higher circles, for in

the City even the men and the women seem to have changed places.

“Man-milliners and mantua-makers swarm

With clumsy hands to deck the female form--

With brawny limbs to fit fine ladies' shapes,

Or measure out their ribbons, lace and tapes;

Or their rude eye the bosom's swell surveys,

To cut out corsets or to stitch their stays;

Or making essences and soft perfume,

Or paint, to give the pallid cheek fresh bloom;

Or with hot irons, combs, and frizzling skill,

On ladies' heads their daily task fulfil;

Or, deeply versed in culinary arts,

Are kneading pasty, making pies and tarts;

Or, clad in motley coat, the footman neat

Is dangling after Miss with shuffling feet,

Bearing in state to church her book of pray'r,

Or the light pocket she disdains to wear;{1}

Or in a parlour snug, 'the powdered lout

The tea and bread and butter hands about.

Where are the women, whose less nervous hands

Might fit these lighter tasks, which pride demands?

Some feel the scorn that poverty attends,

Or pine in meek dépendance on their friends;

Some patient ply the needle day by day,

Poor half-paid seamsters, wasting life away;

Some drudge in menial, dirty, ceaseless toil,

Bear market loads, or grovelling weed the soil;

Some walk abroad, a nuisance where they go,

And snatch from infamy the bread of woe.”

“It is a strange sort of infatuation, this fashion,” said Bob, “and it

is much to be regretted it should operate so much to the injury of the

fair--”

“Do you see that young man on the opposite side of the way,” inquired

Dashall,(stopping him short) “in nankin breeches and jockey-boots?”

“I do,” replied Tallyho; “and pray who is he?”

“The son of a wealthy Baronet who, with an eye to the main chance in

early life, engaged in some mercantile speculations, which proving

productive concerns, have elevated him to his present dignity, beyond

which it is said he cannot go on account of his having once kept a shop.

This son is one of what may be termed the _Ciphers of society_, a sort

of useful article, like an 0 in arithmetic, to denominate numbers;

one of those characters, if character it may be termed, of which this

Metropolis and its vicinity would furnish us with regiments. Indeed, the

1 It is related that a young lady of _haut ton_ in Paris was observed

to have a tall fellow always following her wherever she went. Her

grandmother one day asked her what occasion there was for that man to be

always following her; to which she replied--“I must blow my nose, must

not I, when I want?” This great genius was actually employed to carry

her pocket-handkerchief. ~225~~general run of Fashionables are little

better than Ciphers,--very necessary at times in the House of Commons,

to suit the purposes and forward the intentions of the Ministers,

by which they obtain _titles_ to which they are not _entitled,_ and

transmit to posterity a race of ennobled boobies. What company, what

society does not abound with Ciphers, and oftentimes in such plenty that

they are even serviceable to make the society considerable? What could

we do to express on paper five hundred without the two ciphers, or being

compelled to write eleven letters to explain what is equally well done

in three figures? These Ciphers are useful at general meetings upon

public questions, though, if they were all collected together in point

of intellectual value, they would amount to nought. They are equally

important as counters at a card-table, they tell for more than they are

worth. Among the City Companies there are many of them to be found: and

the Army is not deficient, though great care is generally taken to send

the most conspicuous Ciphers on foreign service. Public offices under

Government swarm with them; and how many round O's or ciphers may be

found among the gentlemen of the long robe, who, as Hudibras observes,

“----never ope

Their mouths, but out there flies a trope.”

In the twelve Judges it must be allowed there is no cipher, because they

have two figures to support them; but take these two figures away, and

the whole wit of mankind may be defied to patch up or recruit the number

without having recourse to the race of Ciphers.

“I have known a Cipher make a profound Statesman and a Secretary--nay,

an Ambassador; but then it must be confess'd it has been by the timely

and prudent application of proper supporters; and it is certain, that

Ciphers have more than once shewn themselves significant in high posts

and stations, and in more reigns than one. Bounteous nature indulges

mankind in a boundless variety of characters as well as features, and

has given Ciphers to make up numbers, and very often by such additions

renders the few much more significant and conspicuous. The Church has

its Ciphers--for a mitre looks as well on a round 0 as on any letter in

the alphabet, ~226~~and the expense to the nation is equally the same;

consequently, John Bull has no right to complain.

“See in Pomposo a polite divine,

More gay than grave, not half so sound as fine;

The ladies' parson, proudly skill'd is he,

To 'tend their toilet and pour out their tea;

Foremost to lead the dance, or patient sit

To deal the cards out, or deal out small wit;

Then oh! in public, what a perfect beau,

So powder'd and so trimm'd for pulpit show;

So well equipp'd to tickle ears polite

With pretty little subjects, short and trite.

Well cull'd and garbled from the good old store

Of polish'd sermons often preached before;

With precious scraps from moral Shakespeare brought.

To fill up awkward vacancies of thought,

Or shew how he the orator can play

Whene'er he meets with some good thing to say,

Or prove his taste correct, his memory strong,

Nor let his fifteen minutes seem too long:

His slumbering mind no knotty point pursues,

Save when contending for his tithes or dues.”

Thus far, although it must be allowed that ciphers are of use, it is not

every cipher that is truly useful. There are Ciphers of indolence, to

which some mistaken men give the title of men of fine parts--there are

Ciphers of Self-interest, to which others more wrongfully give the name

of Patriots--there are Bacchanalian Ciphers, who will not leave the

bottle to save the nation, but will continue to guzzle till no one

figure in Arithmetic is sufficient to support them--then there are

Ciphers of Venus, who will abandon all state affairs to follow a

Cyprian, even at the risk of injuring a deserving wife--Military

Ciphers, who forsake the pursuit of glory, and distrustful of their own

merit or courage, affirm their distrust by a sedulous attendance at the

levees of men of power. In short, every man, in my humble opinion, is

no other than a Cipher who does not apply his talents to the care of his

morals and the benefit of his country.”

“You have been ciphering for some time,” said Boh, “and I suppose you

have now finished your sum.”

“I confess,” continued Tom, “it has been a puzzling one--for, to make

something out of nothing is impossible.”

“Not in all cases,” said Bob.

“How so?--why you have proved it by your own shewing, that these

nothings are to be made something of.”

~227~~“I perceive,” replied Tom, “that your acquaintance with Sparkle is

not thrown away upon you; and it argues well, for if you are so ready

a pupil at imbibing his lessons, you will soon become a proficient

in London manners and conversation; but a Cipher is like a _round

robin_,{1} it has neither beginning nor end: its centre is vacancy,

its circle ambiguity, and it stands for nothing, unless in certain

connections.”

They were now proceeding gently along Oxford Street, in pursuit of their

way to Soho Square, and met with little worthy of note or remark until

they arrived near the end of Newman Street, where a number of workmen

were digging up the earth for the purpose of making new-drains. The

pathway was railed from the road by scaffolding poles strongly driven

into the ground, and securely tied together to prevent interruption from

the passengers.--Tom was remarking upon the hardihood and utility of

the labourers at the moment when a fountain of water was issuing from

a broken pipe, which arose as high as a two pair of stairs window, a

circumstance which quickly drew a number of spectators around, and,

among the rest, Tom and his Cousin could not resist an inclination to

spend a few minutes in viewing the proceedings.

The Irish _jontlemen_, who made two or three ineffectual attempts to

stop the breach, alternately got soused by the increased violence of

the water, and at every attempt were saluted by the loud laughter of the

surrounding multitude.

To feelings naturally warm and irritable, these vociferations of

amusement and delight at their defeat, served but to exasperate and

enrage; and the Irishmen in strong terms expressed their indignation

at the merriment which their abortive attempts appeared to excite:

at length, one of the _Paddies_ having cut a piece of wood, as he

conceived, sufficient to stop the effusion of water, with some degree

of adroitness thrust his arm into the foaming fluid, and for a moment

appeared to have arrested its progress.

“_Blood-an-owns!_ Murphy,” cried he, “scoop away the water, and be

after handing over the mallet this way.” In a moment the spades of his

comrades were seen in

1 Round Rubin--A Letter or Billet, so composed as to have

the signatures of many persons in a circle, in order that

the reader may not be able to discover which of the party

signed first or last.

~228~~action to accomplish his instructions, while one, who was not in a

humour to hear the taunts of the crowd, very politely scoop'd the water

with his hands among the spectators, which created a general desire

to avoid his liberal and plentiful besprinklings, and at the same time

considerable confusion among men, women, and children, who, in effecting

their escape, were seen tumbling and rolling over each other in all

directions.

“Be off wid you all, and be d----d to you,” said the Hibernian; while

those who were fortunate enough to escape the cooling fluid he was

so indifferently dispensing, laughed heartily at their less favoured

companions.

Bob was for moving onward.

“Hold,” said Dash all, “it is two to one but you will see some fun

here.”

He had scarcely said the word, when a brawny Porter in a fustian jacket,

with his knot slung across his shoulder, manifested dislike to the

manner in which the Irish _jontleman_ was pursuing his amusement.

“D----n your Irish eyes,” said he, “don't throw your water here, or

I'll lend you my _bunch of fives_.” {l}

“Be after being off, there,” replied Pat; and, without hesitation,

continued his employment.

The Porter was resolute, and upon receiving an additional salute, jumped

over the railings, and re-saluted poor Pat with a _muzzier_,{2} which

drew his claret in a moment. The Irishman endeavoured to rally, while

the crowd cheered the Porter and hooted the Labourer. This was the

signal for hostilities. The man who had plugg'd up the broken pipe let

go his hold, and the fountain was playing away as briskly as ever--all

was confusion, and the neighbourhood in alarm. The workmen, with spades

and pick-axes, gathered round their comrade, and there was reason to

apprehend serious mischief would occur; one of them hit the Porter with

his spade, and several others were prepared to follow his example; while

a second, who seem'd a little more blood-thirsty than the rest, raised

his pickaxe in a menacing attitude; upon perceiving which, Dashall

jump'd over the rail and

1 Bunch of fives--A flash term for the fist, frequently made

use of among the lads of the Fancy, who address each other

some-times in a friendly way, with--Ha, Bill, how goes it?--

tip us your bunch of fives, my boy.

2 Muzzier--A blow on the mouth.

~229~~arrested his arm, or, if the blow had been struck, murder must

have ensued. In the mean time, several other persons, following Tom's

example, had disarmed the remainder. A fellow-labourer, who had been

engaged at a short distance, from the immediate scene of action,

attacked the man who had raised the pickaxe, between whom a pugilistic

encounter took place, the former swearing, 'By Jasus, they were a set

of cowardly rascals, and deserved _quilting_.'{1} The water was flowing

copiously--shovels, pickaxes, barrows, lanterns and other implements

were strewed around them--the crowd increased--Tom left the combatants

(when he conceived no real danger of unfair advantage being taken was to

be apprehended) to enjoy their rolling in the mud; while the Porter,

who had escaped the vengeance of his opponents, was explaining to

those around him, and expostulating with the first aggressor, upon

the impropriety of his conduct. The shouts of the multitude at the

courageous proceedings of the Porter, and the hootings at the shameful

and cowardly manner of defence pursued by the Labourers, roused

the blood of the Irishmen, and one again seized a spade to attack a

Coal-heaver who espoused the cause of the Porter--a disposition was

again manifested to cut down any one who dared to entertain opinions

opposite to their own--immediately a shower of mud and stones was

directed towards him--the spade was taken away, and the Irishmen armed

themselves in a similar way with the largest stones they could find

suitable for throwing. In this state of things, the houses and the

windows in the neighbourhood were threatened with serious damage. The

crowd retreated hallooing, shouting, hissing, and groaning; and in this

part of the affray Bob got himself well bespattered with mud. Tom again

interfered, and after a few minutes, persuaded the multitude to desist,

and the Irishmen to drop their weapons. The Porter made his escape, and

the men resumed their work; but, upon Dashall's return to the

1 Quilting--To quilt a person among the knowing Covies, is

to give another a good thrashing; probably, this originated

in the idea of warming--as a quilt is a warm companion, so a

set-to is equally productive of heat; whether the allusion

holds good with respect to comfort, must be left to the

decision of those who try it on, (which is to make any

attempt or essay where success is doubtful.)

~230~~spot where he had left Tallyho, the latter was not to be found; he

was however quickly relieved from suspense.

“Sir,” said a stout man, “the neighbourhood is greatly indebted to

your exertions in suppressing a riot from which much mischief was to be

apprehended--your friend is close at hand, if you will step this way,

you will find him--he is getting his coat brushed at my house, and has

sustained no injury.”

“It is a lucky circumstance for him,” said Tom: “and I think

myself fortunate upon the same account, for I assure you I was

very apprehensive of some serious mischief resulting from the

disturbance.”~231~~

CHAPTER XVI

“Blest be the pencil which from death can save

The semblance of the virtuous, wise and brave,

That youth and emulation still may gaze

On those inspiring forms of ancient days,

And, from the force of bright example bold,

Rival their worth, and be what they behold.”

“.....I admire,

None more admires the painter's magic skill,

Who shews me that which I shall never see,

Conveys a distant country into mine,

And throws Italian light on British walls.”

AS they entered the house, a few doors up Newman Street, Tallyho met

them, having divested himself of the mud which had been thrown upon his

garments by the indiscriminating hand of an enraged multitude; and after

politely thanking the gentleman for his friendly accommodation, they

were about to proceed to the place of their original destination; when

Dashall, perceiving an elegantly dressed lady on the opposite side of

the way, felt, instinctively as it were, for the usual appendage of a

modern fashionable, the quizzing-glass; in the performance of this he

was subjected to a double disappointment, for his rencontre with the

Hibernians had shivered the fragile ornament to atoms in his pocket,

and before he could draw forth the useless fragments, the more important

object of his attention was beyond the power of his visual orbs.

“It might have been worse,” said he, as he survey'd the broken bauble:

“it is a loss which can easily be repaired, and if in losing that,

I have prevented more serious mischief, there is at least some

consolation. Apropos, here is the very place for supplying the defect

without loss of time. Dixon,” {1} continued he, looking at

1 This gentleman, whose persevering endeavours in his

profession entitle him to the patronage of the public,

without pretending to second sight, or the powers that are

so frequently attributed to the seventh son of a seventh

son, has thrown some new lights upon the world. Although he

does not pretend to make “Helps to Read,” his establishment

at No. 93, Newman Street, Oxford Road, of upwards of thirty

years' standing, is deservedly celebrated for glasses suited

to all sights, manufactured upon principles derived from

long study and practical experience. Indeed, if we are to-

place any reliance on his Advertisements, he has brought

them to a state of perfection never before attained, and not

to be surpassed.

~232~~the name over the door--“aye, I remember to have seen his

advertisements in the papers, and have no doubt I may be suited here to

a _shaving_”

Upon saying this, they entered the house, and found the improver of

spectacles and eye-glasses surrounded with the articles of his trade,

who, in a moment, recognized Tom as the chief instrument in quelling the

tumult, and added his acknowledgments to what had already been offered

for his successful exertions, assuring him at the same time, that as he

considered sight to be one of the most invaluable blessings “bestowed

on mankind, he had for many years devoted the whole of his time and

attention to the improvement of glasses--put into his hand a short

treatise on the subject, and on the important assistance which may be

afforded by a judicious selection of spectacles to naturally imperfect

or overstrained eyes. Bob, in the mean time, was amusing himself with

reading bills, pamphlets, and newspapers, which lay upon the counter.

Dashall listened with attention to his dissertation on sight,

spectacles, focusses, lens, reflection, refraction, &c.; but, as he

was not defective in the particular organs alluded to, felt but little

interested on the subject; selected what he really wanted, or rather

what etiquette required, when, to their great gratification, in came

Sparkle. After the first salutations were over, the latter purchased

an opera-glass; then, in company with Tom and Bob, proceeded to Oxford

Street, and upon learning their destination, determined also to take a

peep at the Exhibition.

“Come along,” said Tom, catching hold of his arm, and directing him

towards Soho Square. But Sparkle recollecting that he had appointed to

meet Miss Mortimer, her Brother, and Merry well, to accompany them to

Somerset House, and finding time had escaped with more ~233~~rapidity

than he expected, wished them a good morning, hoped they should meet

again in the course of the day, and departed.

“You see,” said Tom, “Sparkle is fully engaged in the business of love;

Miss Mortimer claims all his attention for the present.”

“You appear to be very envious of his enjoyments,” replied Bob.

“Not so, indeed,” continued Tom; “I am only regretting that other

pursuits have estranged him from our company.”

On entering the Exhibition at Soho, Tom, whose well-known taste for

science and art, and particularly for the productions of the pencil and

graver, had already rendered him conspicuous among those who knew him,

made the following remarks: “I am really glad,” said he, “to find that

the eminent engravers of our country have at length adopted a method of

bringing at one view before the public, a delineation of the progress

made by our artists in a branch so essentially connected with the

performance and durability of the Fine Arts. An Exhibition of this

kind is well calculated to dispel the vulgar error, that engraving is a

servile art in the scale of works of the mind, and mostly consigned to

the copyist. An Establishment of this kind has long been wanted, and is

deserving of extensive patronage.”

Having secured Catalogues, they proceeded immediately to the gratifying

scene.{1} The disposition and arrangement

1 The major part of the 405 subjects and sets of subjects,

consisting of about 800 prints, are of moderate size, or

small engravings for descriptive or literary publications,

&e. They are the lesser diamonds in a valuable collection of

jewellery, where there are but few that are not of lucid

excellence, and worthy of glistening in the diadem of

Apollo, or the cestus of Venus. So indeed they have, for

here are many subjects from ancient and modern poetry, and

other literature, and from portraits of beautiful women.

Among the first class, the exquisitely finishing graver of

Mr. Warren gives us many after the designs of Messrs.

Westall, Wilkie, Smirke, Cooke, Uwins, and Corbould; as do

the lucid gravers of Messrs. Englehart and Rhodes, the

nicely executing hands of Messrs. Mitan, Romney, Finden,

Robinson, &c. Among the latter class, are _Anna Boleyn_, &c.

by Mr. Scriven, who marks so accurately the character of the

objects, and of the Painter he works from, in his well

blended dot and stroke; Mrs. Hope, by Dawe; many lovely

women, by Mr. Reynolds; a Courtship, by Mr. Warren, from

Terburg, in the Marquis of Stafford's Collection; two Mary

Queen of Scots, by Messrs. Warren and Cooper.----From

pictures of the old and modern Masters, are capital

Portraits of celebrated characters of former and present

times; of Mrs. Siddons, of Cicero, M. Angelo, Parmigiano,

Fenelon, Raleigh, A. Durer, Erasmus, Cromwell, Ben Jonson,

Selden, Swift, Gay, Sterne, Garrick, &c. of Byron,

Bonaparte, West, Kenible, young Napoleon, of nearly all the

English Royal Family, and many of the Nobility.

----Of all the charmingly engraved Landscapes of foreign

and home Views, and of the Animal pieces, are many from

Messrs. W. B. and G. Cooke's recent publications of The

Coast of England, &c. of Mr. Hakewell's Italy, Mr. Nash's

Paris, Captain Batty's France, &c. Mr. Neale's Vieios, many

of Mr. Scott's and Mr. Milton's fine Animal Prints;

exquisitely engraved Architecture by Mr. Le Keaux, Mr.

Lowry, Mr. G. Cooke, &c. Among the large Prints are the two

last of Mr. Holloway's noble set from Raffaelle's Cartoons;

the Battle of Leipzig, finely executed by Mr. Scott, and

containing Portraits of those monstrous assailers of Italy

and of the common rights of mankind, the Emperors of Austria

and Russia; Jaques from Shakspeare, by Mr. Middiman,

Reynolds' Infant Hercules by Mr. Ward, The Bard, by J.

Bromley, jun. possessing the energy of the original by the

late President Mr. West, and The Poacher detected, by Mr.

Lupton, from Mr. Kidd's beautiful picture.

~234~~of the plates, and the company dispersed in various parts of the

rooms, were the first objects of attention, and the whole appearance was

truly pleasing. At one end was to be seen an old Connoisseur examining

a most beautiful engraving from an excellent drawing by

Clennell{1}---another contemplating the brilliance of Goodall in

his beautiful print of the Fountains of Neptune in the Gardens of

Versailles. Dash all, who generally took care to see all before him,

animate and inanimate, was occasionally

1 Luke Clennell--This unfortunate artist, a native of

Morpeth, in Northumberland, and known to the world as an

eminent engraver on wood, as well as a painter of no

ordinary talent, has furnished one of those cases of human

distress and misery which calls for the sympathy and aid of

every friend to forlorn genius. In the midst of a

prosperous career, with fortune “both hands full,” smiling

on every side, munificently treated by the British

Institution, employed on an important work by the Earl of

Bridgewater (a picture of the Fête given by the City of

London to the Allied Sovereigns,) and with no prospect but

that delightful one of fame and independence, earned by his

own exertions, the most dreadful affliction of life befel

him, and insanity rooted where taste and judgment so

conspicuously shone. The wretched artist was of necessity

separated from his family; his young wife, the mother of his

three infants, descended to the grave a broken-hearted

victim, leaving the poor orphans destitute. The Print

alluded to in this case, representing the Charge of the Life

Guards at Waterloo in 1816, was published by subscription

for their benefit.

~235~~casting glimpses at the pictures and the sprightly females by

which they were surrounded, and drawing his Cousin to such subjects as

appeared to be most deserving of attention; among which, the fine effect

produced by Mr. W. B. Cooke stood high in his estimation, particularly

in his View of Edinburgh from Calton Hill, and Brightling Observatory in

Rose Hill--Le Keux, in his Monument, also partook of his encomiums--T.

Woolroth's Portraits, particularly that of the Duchess of Kent, claimed

attention, and was deservedly admired, as well as a smaller one of Mr.

Shalis by the same artist; indeed, the whole appeared to be selected,

combined and arranged under the direction of a master, and calculated

at once to surprise and delight. After enjoying an hour's lounge in this

agreeable company,

“Come,” said Dashall, “we will repair to Somerset House, and amuse

ourselves with colours.

“Halloo!” said a smart looking young man behind them--“_what am you

arter?--where is you going to?_”

Upon turning round, Dashall discovered it to be the exquisite Mr.

Mincingait, who, having just caught a glimpse of him, and not knowing

what to do with himself, hung as it were upon the company of Tom and his

friend, by way of killing a little time; and was displaying his person

and apparel to the greatest advantage as he pick'd his way along the

pavement, alternately picking his teeth and twirling his watch-chain.

Passing the end of Greek Street, some conversation having taken place

upon the dashing Society in which he had spent the previous evening, Tom

indulged himself in the following description of _How to Cut a Dash._

“Dashing society,” said he, “is almost every where to be found in

London: it is indeed of so much importance among the generality of town

residents, that a sacrifice of every thing that is dear and valuable is

frequently made to appearance.”

“You are a quiz,” said Mincingait; “but I don't mind you, so go your

length.”

“Very well,” continued Tom; “then by way of instruction to my friend,

I will give my ideas upon the subject, and if perchance you should find

any resemblance to yourself in the picture I am about to draw, don't

let all the world know it. If you have an inclination to cut a dash,

situation and circumstances in life have nothing to ~236~~do with it;

a good bold face and a stock of assurance, are the most essential

requisites. With these, you must in the first place fall upon some

method to trick a tailor (provided you have not certain qualms that will

prevent you) by getting into his debt, for much depends upon exteriors.

There is no crime in this, for you pay him if you are able--and good

clothes are very necessary for a dash; having them cut after the newest

fashion, is also very essential. Sally forth, if on a sunday morning in

quest of a companion with whom you have the night previous (at a tavern

or confectioner's) engaged to meet at the corner. After having passed

the usual compliments of the morning with him, place yourself in

a fashionable attitude, your thumbs thrust in your pantaloon's

pockets--the right foot thrown carelessly across the left, resting on

the toe, exhibits your line turned ancle, or new boot, and is certainly

a very modest attitude--your cravat finically adjusted, and tied

sufficiently tight to produce a fine full-blooming countenance: corsets

and bag pantaloons are indispensably necessary to accoutre you for the

stand. When in this trim, dilate upon the events of the times--know

but very little of domestic affairs--expatiate and criticise upon the

imperfections or charms of the passing multitude--tell a fine story to

some acquaintance who knows but little about you, and, by this means,

borrow as much money as will furnish you with a very small bamboo, or

very large cudgel; extremes are very indispensable for a good dash.

“It is extremely unbecoming for a gentleman of fashion to pay any regard

to that old superstitious ceremony of what is commonly called '_going to

church'_--or, at most, of attending more than half a day in the week.

To attend public worship more than one hour in seven days must be

very fatiguing to a person of genteel habits--besides it would be

countenancing an old established custom. In former times, a serious and

devout attention to divine service was not thought improper; but should

a gentleman of modern manners attend public worship, to discover,

according to the law of the polite, what new face of fashion appears, I

need not mention the absurdity of decent behaviour.

'What go to meeting, say?--why this the vulgar do, Yes, and it is a

custom old as Homer too! Sure, then, we folks of fashion must with this

dispense, Or differ in some way from folks of common sense.'

~237~~“Melodious, indeed, are the voices of ladies and gentlemen

whispering across the pews, politely inquiring after each other's

health--the hour at which they got home from their Saturday evening's

party--what gallants attended them; and what lasses they saw safe home.

How engaging the polite posture of looking on the person next you, or

in sound sleep, instead of sacred music, playing loud bass through the

nose! But to have proceeded methodically in enumerating the improvements

in manners, I ought, first, to have mentioned some of the important

advantages of staying from church until the service is half finished.

Should you attend at the usual hour of commencing service, you might

be supposed guilty of rising in the morning as early as nine or ten

o'clock, and by that means be thought shockingly ungenteel--and if

seated quietly in the pew, you might possibly remain unnoticed; but,

by thundering along the aisle in the midst of prayer or sermon, you are

pretty sure to command the attention of the audience, and obtain the

honour of being thought by some, to have been engaged in some genteel

affair the night before! Besides, it is well known that it is only the

vulgar that attend church in proper time.

“When you parade the streets, take off your hat to every gentleman's

carriage that passes; you may do the same to any pretty woman--for

if she is well bred, (you being smartly dressed) she will return the

compliment before she be able to recollect whether your's be a face she

has seen somewhere or not; those who see it, will call you a dashing

fellow. When a beggar stops you, put your hand in your pocket, and

tell him you are very sorry you have no change; this, you know, will be

strictly true, and speaking truth is always a commendable quality;--or,

if it suits you better, bid him go to the churchwarden--this you may

easily do in a dashing way. Never think of following any business or

profession,--such conduct is unworthy of a dasher. In the evening, never

walk straight along the foot-way, but go in a zigzag direction--this

will make some people believe you have been dashing down your bottle of

wine after dinner. No dasher goes home sober.

“On making your appearance in the ball-room, put your hat under your

arm: you will find an advantage in this, as it will make a stir in

the room to make way for you and your hat, and apprize them of your

entrance.

~238~~After one or two turns around the room, if the sets are all made

up, make a stand before one of the mirrors, to adjust your cravat, hair,

&c. Be sure to have your hair brushed all over the forehead, which will

give you a very ferocious appearance. If you catch a strange damsel's

eyes fixed upon you, take it for granted that you are a fascinating

fellow, and cut a prodigious dash. As soon as the first set have

finished.dancing, fix your thumbs as before-mentioned, and make a dash

through the gaping crowd in pursuit of a partner; if you are likely to

be disappointed in obtaining one with whom you are acquainted, select

the smallest child in the room; by that means, you will attract the

attention of the ladies, and secure to you the hand of a charming Miss

for the next dance. When on the floor with one of those dashing belles,

commence a _tête-a-tête_ with her, and pay no attention whatever to the

figure or steps, but walk as deliberately as the music will admit (not

dropping your little chit chat) through the dance, which is considered,

undoubtedly, very graceful, and less like a mechanic or dancing-master.

The dance finished, march into the bar, and call for a glass of

blue-ruin, white-tape, or stark-naked, which is a very fashionable

liquor among the 'ton,' and if called on to pay for it, tell the

landlord you have left your purse in one of your blues at home; and that

you will recollect it at the next ball--this, you know, can be done in

a genteel way, and you will be 'all the go.' Return into the room, and

either tread upon some gentleman's toes, or give him a slight touch with

your elbow: which, if he be inclined to resent, tell him, 'pon lionour,'

you did not observe him, or, if inclined to suffer it with impunity--'

Get out of the way, fellow, d----n you.'

On your way home, after escorting your fair inamorata to her peaceful

abode, make a few calls for the purpose of taking a little more stimulus

with some particular friends, and then return home for the night to

'steep your senses in forgetfulness.'”

“A very amusing and useful account, truly,” said Bob, as his Cousin

closed his chapter of instructions How to Cut a Dash.

“It is, at least, a just and true delineation of living character.”

“Not without a good portion of caricature,” said Mincingait. “You

are downright scurrilous, and ought not to be tolerated in civilized

society. Sink me, if you ~239~~are not quite a bore, and not fit company

for a Gentleman. so I shall wish you a good morning.”

Tom and Bob laughed heartily at this declaration of the Dashing Blade,

and, wishing him a pleasant walk and a safe return, they separated.

By this time they had arrived at Somerset House: it was near three

o'clock, and the Rooms exhibited a brilliant crowd of rank and fashion,

which considerably enhanced the value of its other decorations.

“I have already,” said Dashall, “given you a general description of this

building, and shall therefore confine my present observations wholly to

the establishment of the Royal Academy for the encouragement of the Fine

Arts, for the cultivation of which London is now much and deservedly

distinguished; and to the progressive improvement in which we are

indebted to that Exhibition we have already witnessed. This Academy

was opened by Royal Charter in 1768; and it consists of forty members,

called Royal Academicians, twenty Associates, and six Associate

Engravers. The first President was the justly celebrated Sir Joshua

Reynolds; the second, the highly respected Benjamin West; and the

present, is Sir Thomas Lawrence.

“The Academy possesses a fine collection of casts and models, from

antique statues, &c. a School of colouring, from pictures of the best

masters. Lectures are delivered by the stated Professors in their

various branches, to the Students during the winter season; prize

medals are given annually for the best academy figures and drawings

of buildings; and gold medals for historical composition in painting,

sculpture, and designs in Architecture, once in two years; which latter

are presented to the successful Artists in full assembly, accompanied

with a discourse from the President, calculated to stimulate

perseverance and exertion. Students have at all times, (except during

the regular vacations,) an opportunity of studying nature from well

chosen models, and of drawing from the antique casts.

“This Exhibition is generally opened on the first of May. The number

of works of art, consisting of paintings, sculptures, models, proof

engravings and drawings, generally exhibited, are upwards of one

thousand; and are usually visited by all the gaiety and fashion of the

Metropolis, between the hours of two and five o'clock in ~240~~the day.

The rooms are elegant and spacious; and I consider it at all times

a place where a shilling may be well spent, and an hour or two well

enjoyed.

“Some spend a life in classing grubs, and try,

New methods to impale a butterfly;

Or, bottled up in spirits, keep with care

A crowd of reptiles--hideously rare;

While others search the mouldering wrecks of time,

And drag their stores from dust and rust and slime;

Coins eat with canker, medals half defac'd,

And broken tablets, never to be trac'd;

Worm-eaten trinkets worn away of old,

And broken pipkins form'd in antique mould;

Huge limbless statues, busts of heads forgot,

And paintings representing none knows what;

Strange legends that to monstrous fables lead,

And manuscripts that nobody can read;

The shapeless forms from savage hands that sprung,

And fragments of rude art, when Art was young.

This precious lumber, labell'd, shelv'd, and cas'd,

And with a title of Museum grac'd,

Shews how a man may time and fortune waste,

And die a mummy'd connoisseur of taste.”

[Illustration: page240 Somerset House]

On entering the rooms, Bob was bewildered with delight; the elegance

of the company, the number and excellence of the paintings, were

attractions so numerous and splendid, as to leave him no opportunity

of decidedly fixing his attention. He was surrounded by all that

could enchant the eye and enrapture the imagination. Moving groups of

interesting females were parading the rooms with dashing partners

at their elbows, pointing out the most beautiful paintings from the

catalogues, giving the names of the artists, or describing the subjects.

Seated on one of the benches was to be seen the tired Dandy, whose

principal inducement to be present at this display of the Arts, was to

exhibit his own pretty person, and attract a little of the public gaze

by his preposterous habiliments and unmeaning countenance; to fasten

upon the first person who came within the sound of his scarcely

articulate voice with observing, “It is d----d hot, 'pon honour--can't

stand it--very fatiguing--I wonder so many persons are let in at

once--there's no such thing as seeing, I declare, where there is such

a crowd: I must come again, that's the end of it.” On another, was the

full-dressed Elegante, with her bonnet in one hand, and her catalogue

in the other, apparently intent upon examining the pictures before

~241~~her, while, in fact, her grand aim was to discover whether she

herself was observed. The lounging Blood, who had left his horses at

the door, was bustling among the company with his quizzing-glass in his

hand, determined, if possible, to have a peep at every female he met,

caring as much for the Exhibition itself, as the generality of the

visitors cared for him. The Connoisseur was placing his eye occasionally

close to the paintings, or removing to short distances, right and left,

to catch them in the most judicious lights, and making remarks on his

catalogue with a pencil; and Mrs. Roundabout, from Leadenhall, who had

brought her son Dicky to see the show, as she called it, declared it was

the '_most finest_ sight she ever seed, lifting up her hand and eyes at

the same time as Dicky read over the list, and charmed her by reciting

the various scraps of poetry inserted in the catalogue to elucidate

the subjects. It was altogether a source of inexpressible delight and

amusement. Tom, whose taste for the arts qualified him well for the

office of guide upon such an occasion, directed the eye of his Cousin

to the best and most masterly productions in the collection, and

whose attention was more particularly drawn to the pictures (though

occasionally devoted to the inspection of a set of well-formed features,

or a delicately turned ancle,) was much pleased to find Bob so busy in

enquiry and observation.

“We have here,” said Tom, “a combination of the finest specimens in the

art of painting laid open annually for public inspection. Music, Poetry,

and Painting, have always been held in high estimation by those who

make any pretensions to an improved mind and a refined taste. In this

Exhibition the talents of the Artists in their various lines may be

fairly estimated, and the two former may almost be said to give life to

the latter, in which the three are combined. The Historian, the Poet,

and the Philosopher, have their thoughts embodied by the Painter; and

the tale so glowingly described in language by the one, is brought full

before the eye by the other; while the Portrait-painter hands down, by

the vivid touches of his pencil, the features and character of those who

by their talents have deservedly signalized themselves in society.

The face of nature is displayed in the landscape, and the force of

imagination by the judicious selector of scenes from actual life. Hence

painting is the fascinating region of enchantment. The pencil is a

magic wand; it calls up ~242~~to view the most extensive and variegated

scenery calculated to wake the slumbering mind to thought.

“----To mark the mighty hand

That, ever busy, wheels the silent spheres,

Works in the secret deep; shoots steaming thence

The fair profusion that o'erspreads the Spring;

Flings from the sun direct the naming day;

Feeds every creature; hurls the tempest forth;

And as on earth this grateful change revolves.

With transport touches all the springs of life.”

“Upon my life!” cried Bob, “we seem to have no need of Sparkle now, for

you are endeavouring to imitate him.”

“Your observations maybe just, in part,” replied Tom; “but I can assure

you I have no inclination to continue in the same strain. At the

same time, grave subjects, or subjects of the pencil and graver, are

deserving of serious consideration, except where the latter are engaged

in caricature.”

“And that has its utility,” said Bob.

“To be sure it has,” continued Tom--“over the human mind, wit, humour

and ridicule maintain authoritative influence. The ludicrous images

which flit before the fancy, aided by eccentric combinations, awaken

the risible powers, and throw the soul into irresistible tumults of

laughter. Who can refrain from experiencing risible emotions when

he beholds a lively representation of Don Quixote and Sancho

Pança--Hudibras and his Ralpho--merry old Falstaff shaking his fat

sides, gabbling with Mrs. Quickly, and other grotesque figures to be

found in the vast variety of human character? To lash the vices and

expose the follies of mankind, is the professed end of this species of

painting.

“Satire has always shone among the rest;

And is the boldest way, if not the best,

To tell men freely of their foulest faults.”

Objects well worthy of attention--like comedy--may degenerate, and

become subservient to licentiousness and profligacy; yet the shafts

of ridicule judiciously aimed, like a well-directed artillery, do much

execution. With what becoming severity does the bold Caricature lay

open to public censure the intrigues of subtle Politicians, the

~243~~chicanery of corrupted Courts, and the flattery of cringing

Parasites! Hence satirical books and prints, under temperate

regulations, check the dissoluteness of the great. Hogarth's Harlot's

and Rake's Progress have contributed to reform the different classes of

society--nay, it has even been doubted by some, whether the Sermons of

a Tillotson ever dissuaded so efficaciously from lust, cruelty, and

intemperance, as the Prints of an Hogarth. Indeed it may with truth

be observed, that the art of Painting is one of those innocent and

delightful means of pleasure which Providence has kindly offered to

brighten the prospects of life: under due restriction, and with proper

direction, it may be rendered something more than an elegant mode of

pleasing the eye and the imagination; it may become a very powerful

auxiliary to virtue.”

“I like your remarks very well,” said Bob; “but there is no such

thing as paying proper attention to them at present; besides, you are

moralizing again.”

“True,” said Tom, “the subjects involuntarily lead me to moral

conclusions--there is a fine picture--Nature blowing Bubbles for her

Children, from the pencil of Hilton; in which is united the simplicity

of art with allegory, the seriousness of moral instruction and satire

with the charms of female and infantine beauty; the graces of form,

action, colour and beauty of parts, with those of collective groups; and

the propriety and beauty of----”

He was proceeding in this strain, when, turning suddenly as he supposed

to Tallyho, he was not a little surprised and confused to find, instead

of his Cousin, the beautiful and interesting Miss Mortimer, at his

elbow, listening with close attention to his description.

“Miss Mortimer,” continued he--which following immediately in connection

with his last sentence, created a buz of laughter from Sparkle,

Merrywell, and Mortimer, who were in conversation at a short distance,

and considerably increased his confusion.

“Very gallant, indeed,” said Miss Mortimer, “and truly edifying. These

studies from nature appear to have peculiar charms for you, but I

apprehend your observations were not meant for my ear.”

“I was certainly not aware,” continued he, “how much I was honoured;

but perceiving the company you are in, I am not much astonished at

the trick, and undoubtedly ~244~~have a right to feel proud of the

attentions that have been paid to my observations.”

By this time the party was increased by the arrival of Col. B----, his

daughter Maria, and Lady Lovelace, who, with Sparkle's opera glass in

her hand, was alternately looking at the paintings, and gazing at the

company. Sparkle, in the mean time, was assiduous in his attentions to

Miss Mortimer, whose lively remarks and elegant person excited general

admiration.

The first greetings of such an unexpected meeting were followed by an

invitation on the part of the Colonel to Tom and Bob to dine with them

at half past six.

Tallyho excused himself upon the score of a previous engagement; and a

wink conveyed to Tom was instantly understood; he politely declined the

honour upon the same ground, evidently perceiving there was more meant

than said; and after a few more turns among the company, and a survey of

the Pictures, during which they lost the company of young Mortimer

and his friend Merry well, (at which the Ladies expressed themselves

disappointed) they, with Sparkle, assisted the females into the

Colonel's carriage, wished them a good morning, and took their way

towards Temple Bar.

“I am at a loss,” said Dashall, “to guess what you meant by a prior

engagement; for my part, I confess I had engaged myself with you, and

never felt a greater inclination for a ramble in my life.”

“Then,” said Bob, “I'll tell you--Merry well and Mortimer had determined

to give the old Colonel and his company the slip; and I have engaged,

provided you have no objection, to dine with them at the Globe in Fleet

Street, at half past four. They are in high glee, ready and ripe for

fun, determined to beat up the eastern quarters of the town.”

“An excellent intention,” continued Tom, “and exactly agreeable to my

own inclinations--we'll meet them, and my life on't we shall have a

merry evening. It is now four--we will take a walk through the temple,

and then to dinner with what appetite we may--so come along. You have

heard of the Temple, situated close to the Bar, which takes its name.

It is principally occupied by Lawyers, and Law-officers, a useful and

important body of men, whose lives are devoted to the study and

practice of the law of the land, to keep peace and harmony among the

~245~~individuals of society, though there are, unfortunately, too many

pretenders to legal knowledge, who prey upon the ignorant and live by

litigation{1}--such as persons who have

1 In a recent meeting at the Egyptian Hall, a celebrated

Irish Barrister is reported to have said, that 'blasphemy

was the only trade that prospered.' The assertion, like many

others in the same speech, was certainly a bold one, and one

which the gentleman would have found some difficulty in

establishing. If, however, the learned gentleman had

substituted the word law for blasphemy, he would have been

much nearer the truth.

Of all the evils with which this country is afflicted, that

of an excessive passion for law is the greatest. The sum

paid annually in taxes is nothing to that which is spent in

litigation. Go into our courts of justice, and you will

often see sixty or seventy lawyers at a time; follow them

home, and you will find that they are residing in the

fashionable parts of the town, and living in the most

expensive manner. Look at the lists of the two houses of

parliament, and you will find lawyers predominate in the

House of Commons; and, in the upper house, more peers who

owe their origin to the law, than have sprung from the army

and navy united. There is scarcely a street of any

respectability without an attorney, not to mention the

numbers that are congregated in the inns of court. In London

alone, we are told, there are nearly three thousand

certificated attornies, and in the country they are numerous

in proportion.

While on the subject of lawyers, we shall add a few

unconnected anecdotes, which will exhibit the difference

between times past and present.

In the Rolls of Parliament for the year 1445, there is a

petition from two counties in England, stating that the

number of attornies had lately increased from sixteen to

twenty-four, whereby the peace of those counties had been

greatly interrupted by suits. And it was prayed that it

might be ordained, that there should only be six attornies

for the county of Norfolk, the same number for Suffolk, and

two for the city of Norwich.

The profits of the law have also increased in proportion. We

now frequently hear of gentlemen at the bar making ten or

fifteen thousand pounds a year by their practice; and a

solicitor in one single suit, (the trial of Warren Hastings)

is said to have gained no less than thirty-five thousand

pounds! How different three centuries ago, when Roper, in

his life of Sir Thomas More, informs us, that though he was

an advocate of the greatest eminence, and in full business,

yet he did not by his profession make above four hundred

pounds per annum. There is, however, a common tradition on

the other hand, that Sir Edward Coke's gains, at the latter

end of this century, equalled those of a modern attorney

general; and, by Lord Bacon's works, it appears that he made

6000L. per annum whilst in this office. Brownlow's profits,

likewise, one of the prothonotaries during the reign of

Queen Elizabeth, were 6000L. per annum; and he used to close

the profits of the year with a _laus deo_; and when they

happened to be extraordinary,--_maxima laus deo_.

There is no person, we believe, who is acquainted with the

important duties of the Judges, or the laborious nature of

their office, will think that they are too amply

remunerated; and it is not a little remarkable, that when

law and lawyers have increased so prodigiously, the number

of the Judges is still the same. Fortescue, in the

dedication of his work, De Laudibus Legum Anglise, to Prince

Edward, says that the Judges were not accustomed to sit more

than three hours in a day; that is, from eight o'clock in

the morning until eleven; they passed the remainder of the

day in studying the laws, and reading the Holy Scriptures.

Carte supposes, that the great reason for the lawyers

pushing in shoals to become members of Parliament, arose

from their desire to receive the wages then paid them by

their constituents. By an act of the 5th of Henry IV.

lawyers were excluded from Parliament, not from a contempt

of the common law itself, but the professors of it, who, at

this time, being auditors to men of property, received an

annual stipend, _pro connlio impenso et impendendo_, and

were treated as retainers. In Madox's Form. Anglican, there

is a form of a retainer during his life, of John de Thorp,

as counsel to the Earl of Westmoreland; and it appears by

the Household Book of Algernon, fifth Earl of

Northumberland, that, in the beginning of the reign of Henry

the Eighth, there was, in that family, a regular

establishment for two counsellors and their servants.

A proclamation was issued on the 6th of November, in the

twentieth year of the reign of James I. in which the voters

for members of Parliament are directed, “not to choose

curious and wrangling lawyers, who may seek reputation by

stirring needless questions.”

A strong prejudice was at this time excited against lawyers.

In Aleyn's Henry VIII. (London, 1638,) we have the following

philippic against them:--

“A prating lawyer, (one of those which cloud

That honour'd science,) did their conduct take;

He talk'd all law, and the tumultuous crowd

Thought it had been all gospel that he spake.

At length, these fools their common error saw,

A lawyer on their side, but not the law.”

Pride the drayman used to say, that it would never be well

till the lawyers' gowns, like the Scottish colours, were

hung up in Westminster Hall.

From Chaucer's character of the Temple Manciple, it would

appear that the great preferment which advocates in this

time chiefly aspired to, was to become steward to some great

man: he says,--”

“Of masters he had mo than thryis ten,

That were of law expert and curious,

Of which there were a dozen in that house,

Worthy to ben stuards of house and londe,

Of any lord that is in Englonde.”

~246~~been employed as clerks to Pettifoggers, who obtain permission to

sue in their names; and persons who know no more of law than what they

have learned in Abbot's Park,{1} or on board the Fleet,{2} who assume

the title of Law Agents or Accountants, and are admirably fitted for

Agents in the Insolvent Debtor's Court under the Insolvent Act, to make

out Schedules, &c. Being up to all the arts and manouvres practised with

success for the liberation of themselves, they are well calculated to

become tutors of others, though they generally take care to be well paid

for it.”

By this time they were entering the Temple. “This,” continued Tom,

“is an immense range of buildings, stretching from Fleet-street to

the river, north and south; and from Lombard-street, Whitefriars, to

Essex-street in the Strand, east and west.

“It takes its name from its being founded by the Knights Templars in

England. The Templars were crusaders, who, about the year 1118, formed

themselves into a military body at Jerusalem, and guarded the roads

for the safety of pilgrims. In time the order became very powerful.

The Templars in Fleet-street, in the thirteenth century, frequently

entertained the King, the Pope's nuncio, foreign ambassadors, and other

great personages.

“It is now divided into two societies of students, called the Inner and

Middle Temple, and having the name of Inns of Court.

“These societies consist of Benchers, Barristers, Students, and Members.

The government is vested in the Benchers. In term time they dine in

the hall of the society, which is called keeping commons. To dine a

fortnight in each term, is deemed keeping the term; and twelve of these

terms qualify a student to be called to year of Henry the Sixth, when

Sir Walter Beauchamp, as counsel, supported the claim of precedence of

the Earl of Warwick, against the then Earl Marshal, at the bar of the

House of Lords. Mr. Roger Hunt appeared in the same capacity for the

Earl Marshal, and both advocates, in their exordium, made most humble

protestations, entreating the lord against whom they were retained, not

to take amiss what they should advance on the part of their own client.

Another point on which the lawyers of the present age differ from their

ancestors, is in their prolixity. It was reserved for modern invention

to make a trial for high treason last eight days, or to extend a speech

to nine hours duration.

1 Abbot's Park--The King's Bench.

2 On board the Fleet--The Fleet Prison.

~248~~“These societies have the following officers and servants: a

treasurer, sub-treasurer, steward, chief butler, three under-butlers,

upper and under cook, a pannierman, a gardener, two porters, two

wash-pots, and watchmen.

“The Benchers assume and exercise a power that can scarcely be

reconciled to the reason of the thing. They examine students as to their

proficiency in the knowledge of the law, and call candidates to the bar,

or reject them at pleasure, and without appeal. It is pretty well known

that students in some cases eat their way to the bar; in which there can

be no great harm, because their clients will take the liberty afterwards

of judging how far they have otherwise qualified themselves. But every

man that eats in those societies should be called, or the rejection

should be founded solely on his ignorance of the law, and should be

subject to an appeal to a higher jurisdiction; otherwise the power of

the Benchers may be exercised on private or party motives.

“The expence of going through the course of these Societies is not

great. In the Inner Temple, a student pays on admission, for the fees of

the society, 3L. 6s. 8d. which, with other customary charges, amounts to

4L 2s. A duty is also paid to the King, which is high. Terms may be kept

for about 10s. per week, and, in fact, students may dine at a cheaper

rate here than any where beside. The expences in the principal societies

of like nature are something more.

“Their kitchens, and dinner-rooms, merit the inspection of strangers,

and may be seen on applying to the porter, or cooks, without fee or

introduction. Our time is short now, or we would take a peep; you must

therefore content yourself with my description.

“The Temple is an irregular building. In Fleet-street are two entrances,

one to the Inner, and the other to the Middle Temple. The latter has a

front in the manner of Inigo Jones, of brick, ornamented with four large

stone pilastres, of the Ionic order, with a pediment. It is too narrow,

and being lofty, wants proportion. The passage to which it leads,

although designed for carriages, is narrow, inconvenient, and mean.

“The garden of the Inner Temple is not only a most happy situation, but

is laid out with great taste, and kept ~249~~in perfect order. It

is chiefly covered with green sward,, which is pleasing to the eye,

especially in a city, and is most agreeable to walk on. It lies, as you

perceive, along the river, is of great extent, and has a spacious

gravel walk, or terrace, on the bank of the Thames. It forms a crowded

promenade in summer, and at such times is an interesting spot.

“The Middle Temple has a garden, but much smaller,, and not so

advantageously situated.

“The hall of the Middle Temple is a spacious and elegant room in its

style. Many great feasts have been given in it in old times. It is well

worth a visit.

“The Inner Temple hall is comparatively small, but is a fine room. It is

ornamented with the portraits of several of the Judges. Before this

hall is a broad paved terrace, forming an excellent promenade, when the

gardens are not sufficiently dry.

“There are two good libraries belonging to these societies, open to

students, and to others on application to the librarian, from ten in the

morning till one, and in the afternoon from two till six.

“The Temple church belongs in common to the two societies. The Knights

Templars built their church on this site, which was destroyed, and the

present edifice was erected by the Knights Hospitallers. It is in the

Norman style of architecture, and has three aisles, running east and

west, and two cross aisles. At the western end is a spacious round

tower, the inside of which forms an elegant and singular entrance into

the church, from which it is not separated by close walls, but merely by

arches. The whole edifice within has an uncommon and noble aspect. The

roof of the church is supported by slight pillars of Sussex marble, and

there are three windows at each side, adorned with small pillars of the

same marble. The entire floor is of flags of black and white marble;

the roof of the tower is supported with six pillars, having an upper and

lower range of small arches, except on the eastern side, opening into

the church: The length of the church is eighty-three feet; the breadth

sixty; and the height thirty-four; the height of the inside of the tower

is forty-eight feet, and its diameter on the floor fifty-one.

“In the porch or tower are the tombs of eleven Knights Templars; eight

of them have the figures of ~250~~armed knights on them, three of them

being the tombs of so many Earls of Pembroke. The organ of this church

is one of the finest in the world.

“The Temple church is open for divine service every day, at eleven

o'clock in the morning, and at four in the afternoon. There are four

entrances into the Temple, besides those in Fleet-street; and it is

a thoroughfare during the day, but the gates are shut at night. The

gardens are open to the public in summer. It is a place of much business

and constant traffic, I assure you.”

“I perceive it,” said Bob, “by the number of persons passing and

repassing, every one apparently animated and impelled by some business

of importance.”

“Yes, it is something like a steam-boiler, by which a considerable

portion of the engines of the Law are kept in motion. They can alarm and

allay according to the pockets of their customers, or the sagacity which

they are able to discover in their heads. There are perhaps as many

Quacks in this profession as in any other,” continued Tom, as they

regained Fleet-street; when, perceiving it was half past four o'clock by

St. Dunstan's--“But we must now make the best of our way, or we may be

cut out of the good things of this _Globe_.”

“What are so many persons collected together here for?” enquired Bob.

“Merely to witness a little of ingenious machinery. Keep your eye on the

two figures in the front of the church with clubs in their hands.”

“I do,” said Bob; “but there does not appear to me to be any thing very

remarkable about them.”

He scarcely uttered the words, when he observed that these figures

struck their clubs upon the bells which hung between them to denote the

time of day.

“These figures,” said Tom, “and the circumstance of giving them motion

every fifteen minutes by the movements of the clock, have attracted a

great deal of notice, particularly among persons from the country, and

at almost every quarter of an hour throughout the day they are honoured

with spectators. The church itself is very ancient, and has been

recently beautified. The _Bell thumpers_, whose abilities you have just

had a specimen of, have been standing there ever since the year 1671.”

“It is hard service,” said Bob, “and they must certainly deserve a

pension from Government more than many of ~251~~the automatons who are

now in the enjoyment of the national bounties.”

“You are right enough,” said a Translator of Soles,{1} who had overheard

Bob's last remark, with a pair of old shoes under his arm; “and d----n

me if I would give a pair of _crazy crabshells_{2} without _vamp or

whelt for the whole boiling of 'em_{3}-there is not one on 'em worth a

bloody jemmy.”{4}

Upon hearing this from the political Cobbler, a disturbed sort of shout

was uttered by the surrounding spectators, who had rather increased than

diminished in number, to hear the observations of the leathern-lung'd

Orator; when Tom, giving his Cousin a significant pinch of the arm,

impelled him forward, and left them to the enjoyment of their humour.

“Political observations are always bad in the street,” said Tom; “it is

a subject upon which scarcely any two persons agree distinctly-_Old Wax

and Bristles_ is about _three sheets in the wind_,{5} and no doubt there

are enough to take advantage of any persons stopping at this time of the

day.”{6}

“What have we here?” said Bob, who observed a concourse of people

surrounding the end of Fetter Lane.

“Only a couple more of striking figures,” replied Tom, “almost as

intelligent as those we have just seen.”

1 Translator of Soles--A disciple of St. Crispin, alias a

cobbler, who can botch up old shoes, so as to have the

appearance of being almost new, and who is principally

engaged in his laudable occupation by the second-hand shoe-

sellers of Field Lane, Turn Stile, &c. for the purpose of

turning an honest penny, i.e. to deceive poor purchasers.

2 Crab-shells--A cant term for shoes.

3 Whole boding of 'em--The whole kit of 'em, &c. means the

whole party.

4 Bloody Jemmy--A cant term for a sheep's head.

5 Three sheets in the wind--A cant phrase intending to

explain that a person is more than half drunk.

6 This was a hint well given by Dashall; for, in the present

times, it is scarcely possible to be aware of the numerous

depredations that are committed in the streets of the

Metropolis in open day-light; and it is a well-known fact,

that Fleet Street, being one of the leading thoroughfares,

is at almost all times infested with loose characters of

every description, from the well-dressed Sharpers, who hover

round the entrances to billiard-tables to mark new comers,

and give information to the pals in waiting, somewhere

within call, and who are called Macers-to the wily Duffers

or Buffers, willing to sell extraordinary bargains, and the

_Cly-faker_, or Pickpocket.

~252~~Bob bustled forward, and looking down the lane, perceived two

Watchmen, one on each side the street, bearing poles with black boards

inscribed in white letters, “Beware of bad houses,” and a lantern

hanging to each.

“These,” said Tom, “are not decoy ducks, but scare crows, at least they

are intended for such; whether their appearance does not operate as much

one way as it does the other, is, I believe, a matter of doubt.”

“Beware of bad houses,” said Bob--“I don't exactlY see the object.”

“No, perhaps not,” continued his Cousin; “but I will tell you: this is a

method which the Churchwardens of parishes sometimes take of shaming

the _pa-pa_ or _fie fie_ ladies from their residences, or at least of

discovering their visitors; but I am half inclined to think, that nine

times out of ten the contrary effect is produced; for these men who are

stationed as warnings to avoid, are easily to be blinded by the gay and

gallant youths, who have” an inclination to obtain an admission to

the fair cyprians; besides which, if the first inhabitants are really

induced to quit, the house is quickly occupied by similar game, and

the circumstance of the burning out, as it is termed, serves as a

direction-post to new visitors; so that no real good is eventually

effected-Come, we had better move on--there is nothing more

extraordinary here.”

“This is Peele's Coffee House,” continued he--“a house celebrated for

its general good accommodations. Here, as well as at the Chapter Coffee

House, in Paternoster Row, all the newspapers are kept filed annually,

and may be referred to by application to the Waiters, at the very

trifling expense of a cup of coffee or a glass of wine. The Monthly

and Quarterly Reviews, and the provincial papers, are also kept for the

accommodation of the customers, and constitute an extensive and valuable

library; it is the frequent resort of Authors and Critics, who meet to

pore over the news of the day, or search the records of past times.”

“An excellent way of passing an hour,” said Bob, “and a proof of the

studied attention which is paid not only to the comforts and convenience

of their customers, but also to their instruction.”

“You are right,” replied Tom; “in London every man has an opportunity

of living according to his wishes and ~253~~the powers of his pocket;

he may dive, like Roderick Random, into a cellar, and fill his belly for

four pence, or regale himself with the more exquisite delicacies of the

London Tavern at a guinea; while the moderate tradesman can be supplied

at a chop-house for a couple of shillings; and the mechanic by a call at

the shop over the way at the corner of Water Lane,{1} may purchase his

half pound of ham or beef, and retire to a public-house to eat it; where

he obtains his pint of porter, and in turn has an opportunity of reading

the _Morning Advertiser_, the _Times_, or the _Chronicle_. Up this court

is a well-known house, the sign of the Old Cheshire Cheese; it has long

been established as a chop-house, and provides daily for a considerable

number of persons; but similar accommodations are to be found in almost

every street in London. Then again, there are cook-shops of a still

humbler description where a dinner may be procured at a still more

moderate price; so that in this great Metropolis there is accommodation

for all ranks and descriptions of persons, who may be served according

to the delicacy of their appetites and the state of their finances.

“A Chop-house is productive of all the pleasures in life; it is a

combination of the most agreeable and satisfactory amusements: indeed,

those who have never had an opportunity of experiencing the true

happiness therein to be found, have a large portion of delight and

gratification to discover: the heart, the mind and the constitution

are to be mended upon crossing its threshold; and description must

fall short in its efforts to pourtray its enlivening and invigorating

influence; it is, in a word, a little world within itself, absolutely

a universe in miniature, possessing a system peculiar to itself, of

planets and satellites,

1 This allusion was made by the Hon. Tom Dashall to the Shop

of Mr. Cantis, who was formerly in the employ of Mr. Epps,

and whose appearance in opposition to him at Temple Bar a

few years back excited a great deal of public attention, and

had the effect of reducing the prices of their ham and beef.

Mr. Epps generally has from fourteen to twenty Shops, and

sometimes more, situated in different parts of the

Metropolis, and there is scarcely a street in London where

there is not some similar place of accommodation; but Mr.

Epps is the most extensive purveyor for the public appetite.

At these shops, families may be supplied with any quantity,

from an ounce to a pound, of hot boiled beef and ham at

moderate prices; while the poor are regaled with a plate of

cuttings at a penny or twopence each.

and fixed stars and revolutions, and its motions are annual, rotatory

and diurnal, in all its extensive diversity of waiters, cooks,

saucepans, fryingpans, gridirons, salamanders, stoves and smoke-jacks;

so that if you wish to know true and uncloying delight, you are now

acquainted with where it is to be found. Not all the sages of the

ancient or the modern world ever dreamed of a theory half so exquisite,

or calculated to afford man a treat so truly delicious.

“Within the doors of a Chop-house are to be found food for both body

and soul-mortal and mental appetites-feasting for corporeal cravings and

cravings intellectual-nourishment at once for the faculties both of mind

and body: there, in fact, the brain may be invigorated, and the mind fed

with good things; while the palate is satisfied by devouring a mutton

chop, a veal cutlet, or a beef steak; and huge draughts of wisdom may be

imbibed while drinking a bottle of soda or a pint of humble porter.

“In this delightful place of amusement and convenience, there is

provender for philosophers or fools, stoics or epicureans; contemplation

for genius of all denominations; and it embraces every species of

science and of art, (having an especial eye to the important art of

Cookery;) it encompasses all that is worthy of the sublimest faculties

and capacities of the soul; it is the resort of all that is truly good

and glorious on earth, the needy and the noble, the wealthy and the

wise. Its high estimation is universally acknowledged; it has the

suffrage of the whole world, so much so, that at all times and in all

seasons its supremacy is admitted and its influence recognized. The

name, the very name alone, is sufficient to excite all that is

pleasant to our senses (five or seven, how many soever there may be.) A

Chop-house! at that word what delightful prospects are presented to the

mind's eye-what a clashing of knives and forks and plates and pewter

pots, and rushing of footsteps and murmurings of expectant hosts enter

into our delighted ears--what gay scenes of varied beauty, and many

natured viands and viscous soups, tarts, puddings and pies, rise before

our visual nerves-what fragrant perfumes, sweet scented odours,

and grateful gales of delicate dainties stream into our olfactory

perceptions,

“. . . Like the sweet south

Upon a bank-a hank of violets, giving

And taking odour.”

~255~~Its powers are as vast as wonderful and goodly, and extend over

all animal and animated nature, biped and quadruped, the earth, the air,

and all that therein is. By its high decree, the beast may no longer

bask in the noon tide of its nature, the birds must forsake their pure

ether, and the piscatory dwellers in the vasty deep may spread no more

their finny sails towards their caves of coral. The fruits, the herbs,

and the other upgrowings of the habitable world, and all created things,

by one wave of the mighty wand are brought together into this their

common tomb. It is creative also of the lordliest independence of

spirit. It excites the best passions of the heart--it calls into action

every kind and generous feeling of our nature--it begets fraternal

affection and unanimity and cordiality of soul, and excellent

neighbourhood among men-it will correct antipodes, for its ministerial

effects will produce a Radical advantage-its component parts go down

with the world, and are well digested.”

“Your description,” said Bob, “has already had the effect of awakening

appetite, and I feel almost as hungry as if I were just returning from a

fox-chace.”

“Then,” continued the Hon. Tom Dashall, “it is not only admirable as

a whole, its constituent and individual beauties are as provocative of

respect as the mass is of our veneration. From among its innumerable

excellencies--I will mention one which deserves to be held in

recollection and kept in our contemplation-what is more delightful

than a fine beef-steak?-spite of Lexicographers, there is something

of harmony even in its name, it seems to be the key-note of our best

constructed organs, (organs differing from all others, only because they

have no stops,) it circles all that is full, rich and sonorous--I do

not mean in its articulated enunciation, but in its internal

acceptation--there--there we feel all its strength and diapas, or force

and quantity.”

“Admirable arrangements, indeed,” said Bob. “True,” continued

Tom; “and all of them comparatively comfortable, according to their

gradations ana the rank or circumstances of their customers. The Tavern

furnishes wines, &c.; the Pot-house, porter, ale, and liquors suitable

to the high or low. The sturdy Porter, sweating beneath his load,

may here refresh himself with heavy wet;{l} the Dustman, or the

Chimney-sweep, may sluice

1 Heavy wet-A well-known appellation for beer, porter, or

ale.

~256~~Am ivory{1} with the Elixir of Life, now fashionably termed

Daffy's.”

“Daffy's,” said Tallyho-“that is somewhat new to me, I don't recollect

hearing it before?”

“Daffy's Elixir,” replied Dashall, “was a celebrated quack medicine,

formerly sold by a celebrated Doctor of that name, and recommended by

him as a cure for all diseases incident to the human frame. This Gin,

Old Tom, and Blue Ruin, are equally recommended in the present day; in

consequence of which, some of the learned gentlemen of the sporting'

world have given it the title of Daffy's, though this excellent beverage

is known by many other names.

“For instance, the Lady of refined sentiments and delicate nerves, feels

the necessity of a little cordial refreshment, to brighten the one and

enliven the other, and therefore takes it on the sly, under the polite

appellation of white wine. The knowing Kids and dashing Swells are for

a drap of blue ruin, to keep all things in good twig. The Laundress, who

disdains to be termed a dry washer,--dearly loves a dollop {2} of Old

Tom, because, while she is up to her elbows in suds, and surrounded with

steam, she thinks a drap of the old gemman (having no pretensions to

a young one) would comfort and strengthen her inside, and consequently

swallows the inspiring dram. The travelling Gat-gut Scraper, and the

Hurdy-Grinder, think there is music in the sound of max, and can toss

off their kevartern to any tune in good time. The Painter considers it

desirable to produce effect by mingling his dead white with a little

sky blue. The Donkey driver and the Fish-fag are bang-up for a flash

of lightning, to illumine their ideas. The Cyprian, whose marchings and

counter marchings in search of custom are productive of extreme fatigue,

may, in some degree, be said to owe her existence to Jockey; at least

she considers him a dear boy, and deserving her best attentions, so long

as she has any power. The Link-boys, the Mud-larks, and the Watermen,

who hang round public-house doors to feed horses, &c. club up their

brads for a kevartern of Stark-naked in three outs. The Sempstress and

Straw Bonnet-maker are for a yard of White Tape; and

1 Sluice the ivory--Is originally derived from sluicery, and

means washing, or passing over the teeth.

2 Dollop--Is a large or good quantity of any thing: the whole

dollop means the whole quantity.

~256~~the Swell Covies and Out and Outers, find nothing so refreshing

after a night's spree, when the victualling-office is out of order, as

a little Fuller's-earth, or a dose of Daffy's; so that it may fairly

be presumed it is a universal beverage--nay, so much so, that a certain

gentleman of City notoriety, though he has not yet obtained a seat

in St. Stephen's Chapel, with an ingenuity equal to that of the

_Bug-destroyer to the King_,{1} has latterly decorated his house, not a

hundred miles from Cripplegate, with the words Wine and Brandy Merchant

to her Majesty, in large letters, from which circumstance his depository

of the refreshing and invigorating articles of life has obtained the

appellation of the Queen's Gin Shop.”

Bob laughed heartily at his Cousin's interpretation of Daffy's.

While Tom humm'd, in an under tone, the fag end of a song, by way of

conclusion--

“Why, there's old Mother Jones, of St. Thomas's Street,

If a jovial companion she chances to meet,

Away to the gin-shop they fly for some max,

And for it they'd pawn the last smock from their backs;

For the juniper berry,

It makes their hearts merry,

With a hey down, down deny,

Geneva's the liquor of life.”

By this time they were at the Globe; upon entering which, they were

greeted by Mortimer and Merry well, who had arrived before them; and

dinner being served almost immediately, they were as quickly seated at

the table, to partake of an excellent repast.

1 It is a well-known fact, that a person of the name of

Tiffin announced himself to the world under this very

seductive title, which, doubtless, had the effect of

bringing him considerable custom from the loyal subjects of

his great patron.

LONDON VOL I. Part 2.

CHAPTER XVII

“Here fashion and folly still go hand in hand,

With the Blades of the East, and the Bucks of the Strand;

The Bloods of the Park, and paraders so gay,

Who are lounging in Bond Street the most of the day--

Who are foremost in all that is formed for delight,

At greeking, or wenching, or drinking all night;

For London is circled with unceasing joys:

Then, East, West, North and South, let us hunt them, my boys.”

~258~~ THE entrance to the house had attracted Tallyho's admiration as

they proceeded; but the taste and elegance of the Coffee-room, fitted up

with brilliant chandeliers, and presenting amidst a blaze of splendour

every comfort and accommodation for its visitors, struck him with

surprise; in which however he was not suffered to remain long, for

Merrywell and Mortimer had laid their plans with some degree of depth

and determination to carry into execution the proposed ramble of the

evening, and had ordered a private room for the party; besides which,

they had invited a friend to join them, who was introduced to Tom and

Bob, under the title of Frank Harry. Frank Harry was a humorous sort of

fellow, who could tell a tough story, sing a merry song, and was up to

snuff, though he frequently got snuffy, singing,

“The bottle's the Sun of our table,

His beams are rosy wine:

We, planets never are able

Without his beams to shine.

Let mirth and glee abound,

You'll soon grow bright

With borrow'd light,

And shine as he goes round.”

He was also a bit of a dabbler at Poetry, a writer of Songs, Epigrams,

Epitaphs, &c.; and having been a long resident in the East, was thought

to be a very useful guide on such an excursion, and proved himself a

very ~259~~ pleasant sort of companion: he had a dawning pleasantry

in his countenance, eradiated by an eye of vivacity, which seemed to

indicate there was nothing which gave him so much gratification as a

mirth-moving jest.

“What spirits were his, what wit and what whim, Now cracking a joke, and

now breaking a limb.”

Give him but food for laughter, and he would almost consider himself

furnished with food and raiment. There was however a pedantic manner

with him at times; an affectation of the clerical in his dress, which,

upon the whole, did not appear to be of the newest fashion, or improved

by wearing; yet he would not barter one wakeful jest for a hundred

sleepy sermons, or one laugh for a thousand sighs. If he ever sigh'd at

all, it was because he had been serious where he might have laugh'd;

if he had ever wept, it was because mankind had not laugh'd more and

mourn'd less. He appeared almost to be made up of contrarieties, turning

at times the most serious subjects into ridicule, and moralizing upon

the most ludicrous occurrences of life, never failing to conclude his

observations with some quaint or witty sentiment to excite risibility;

seeming at the same time to say,

“How I love to laugh;

Never was a weeper;

Care's a silly calf,

Joy's my casket keeper.”

During dinner time he kept the table in a roar of laughter, by declaring

it was his opinion there was a kind of puppyism in pigs that they

should wear tails--calling a great coat, a spencer folio edition with

tail-pieces--Hercules, a man-midwife in a small way of business, because

he had but twelve labours--assured them he had seen a woman that morning

who had swallowed an almanac, which he explained by adding, that her

features were so carbuncled, that the red lettered days were visible on

her face--that Horace ran away from the battle of Philippi, merely to

prove that he was no lame poet--he described Critics as the door-porters

to the Temple of Fame, whose business was to see that no persons slipped

in with holes in their stockings, or paste buckles for diamond ones, but

was much in doubt whether they always performed their duty honestly--he

called the Sun the _Yellow-hair'd Laddie_ ~260~~ --and the Prince of

Darkness, the _Black Prince_--ask'd what was the difference between a

sigh-heaver and a coal-heaver; but obtaining no answer, I will tell you,

said he--The coal-heaver has a load at his back, which he can carry--but

a sigh-heaver has one at his heart, which he can not carry. He had a

whimsical knack of quoting old proverbs, and instead of saying, the

Cobbler should stick to his last, he conceived it ought to be, the

Cobbler should stick to his wax, because he thought that the more

practicable--What is bred in the bone, said he, will not come out with

the skewer; and justified his alteration by asserting it must be plain

enough to the fat-headed comprehensions of those epicurean persons who

have the magpie-propensity of prying into marrow-bones.

Dashall having remarked, in the course of conversation, that _necessity

has no law_.

He declared he was sorry for it--it was surely a pity, considering

the number of learned Clerks she might give employ to if she had--her

Chancellor (continued he) would have no sinecure of it, I judge: hearing

the petitions of her poor, broken-fortuned and bankrupt, subjects would

take up all his terms, though every term were a year, and every year

a term. Thus he united humour with seriousness, and seriousness with

humour, to the infinite amusement of those around him.

Merrywell, who was well acquainted with, and knew his humour, took

every opportunity of what is called drawing him out, and encouraging

his propensity to punning, a species of wit at which he was particularly

happy, for puns fell as thick from him as leaves from autumn bowers; and

he further entertained them with an account of the intention he had some

short time back of petitioning for the office of pun-purveyor to his

late Majesty; but that before he could write the last line--“And your

petitioner will ever pun” it was bestowed upon a Yeoman of the Guard.

Still, however, said he, I have an idea of opening business as a

pun-wright in general to his Majesty's subjects, for the sale and

diffusion of all that is valuable in that small ware of wit, and

intend to advertise--Puns upon all subjects, wholesale, retail, and for

exportation. N B. 1. An allowance will be made to Captains and Gentlemen

going to the East and West Indies--Hooks, Peakes, Pococks,{1} supplied

1 Well-known dramatic authors.

~261~~ moderate terms--worn out sentiments and _clap-traps_ will be

taken in exchange. N B. 2. May be had in a large quantity, in a great

deal box, price five acts of sterling comedy per packet, or in small

quantities, in court-plaster sized boxes, price one melodrama and

an interlude per box. N B. 3. The genuine puns are sealed with a true

Munden grin--all others are counterfeits--Long live Apollo, &c. &c.

The cloth being removed, the wine was introduced, and

“As wine whets the wit, improves its native force,

And gives a pleasant flavour to discourse,”

Frank Harry became more lively at each glass--“Egad!” said he, “my

intention of petitioning to be the king's punster, puts me in mind of a

story.”

“Can't you sing it?” enquired Merrywell.

“The pipes want clearing out first,” was the reply, “and that is a sign

I can't sing at present; but signal as it may appear, and I see some

telegraphic motions are exchanging, my intention is to shew to you all

the doubtful interpretation of signs in general.”

“Let's have it then,” said Tom; “but, Mr. Chairman, I remember an old

Song which concludes with this sentiment--

“Tis hell upon earth to be wanting of wine.”

“The bottle is out, we must replenish.”

The hint was no sooner given, than the defect was remedied; and after

another glass,

“King James VI. on his arrival in London, (said he) was waited on by

a Spanish Ambassador, a man of some erudition, but who had strangely

incorporated with his learning, a whimsical notion, that every country

ought to have a school, in which a certain order of men should be taught

to interpret signs; and that the most expert in this department ought

to be dignified with the title of Professor of Signs. If this plan were

adopted, he contended, that most of the difficulties arising from the

ambiguity of language, and the imperfect acquaintance which people of

one nation had with the tongue of another, would be done away. Signs, he

argued, arose from the dictates of nature; and, as they were the same

in every country, there could be no danger of their being misunderstood.

Full of this project, the Ambassador was ~262~~ lamenting one day before

the King, that the nations of Europe were wholly destitute of this grand

desideratum; and he strongly recommended the establishment of a college

founded upon the simple principles he had suggested. The king, either

to humour this Quixotic foible, or to gratify his own ambition at the

expense of truth, observed, in reply, 'Why, Sir, I have a Professor

of Signs in one of the northernmost colleges in my dominions; but

the distance is, perhaps, six hundred miles, so that it will be

impracticable for you to have an interview with him.' Pleased with this

unexpected information, the Ambassador exclaimed--'If it had been six

hundred leagues, I would go to see him; and I am determined to set out

in the course of three or four days.' The King, who now perceived that

he had committed himself, endeavoured to divert him from his purpose;

but, finding this impossible, he immediately caused letters to be

written to the college, stating the case as it really stood, and desired

the Professors to get rid of the Ambassador in the best manner they were

able, without exposing their Sovereign. Disconcerted at this strange and

unexpected message, the Professors scarcely knew how to proceed. They,

however, at length, thought to put off their august visitant, by saying,

that the Professor of Signs was not at home, and that his return

would be very uncertain. Having thus fabricated the story, they made

preparations to receive the illustrious stranger, who, keeping his word,

in due time reached their abode. On his arrival, being introduced with

becoming solemnity, he began to enquire, who among them had the honour

of being Professor of Signs? He was told in reply, that neither of

them had that exalted honour; but the learned gentleman, after whom

he enquired, was gone into the Highlands, that they conceived his stay

would be considerable; but that no one among them could even conjecture

the period of his return. 'I will wait his coming,' replied the

Ambassador, 'if it be twelve months.'

“Finding him thus determined, and fearing, from the journey he had

already undertaken that he might be as good as his word, the learned

Professors had recourse to another stratagem. To this they found

themselves driven, by the apprehension that they must entertain him as

long as he chose to tarry; and in case he should unfortunately weary out

their patience, the whole affair must terminate ~263~~ in a discovery of

the fraud. They knew a Butcher, who had been in the habit of serving the

colleges occasionally with meat. This man, they thought, with a little

instruction might serve their purpose; he was, however, blind with one

eye, but he had much drollery and impudence about him, and very well

knew how to conduct any farce to which his abilities were competent.

“On sending for Geordy, (for that was the butcher's name) they

communicated to him the tale, and instructing him in the part he was to

act, he readily undertook to become Professor of Signs, especially as he

was not to speak one word in the Ambassador's presence, on any pretence

whatever. Having made these arrangements, it was formally announced to

the Ambassador, that the Professor would be in town in the course of

a few days, when he might expect a silent interview. Pleased with

this information, the learned foreigner thought that he would put his

abilities at once to the test, by introducing into his dumb language

some subject that should be at once difficult, interesting, and

important. When the day of interview arrived, Geordy was cleaned up,

decorated with a large bushy wig, and covered over with a singular gown,

in every respect becoming his station. He was then seated in a chair

of state, in one of their large rooms, while the Ambassador and the

trembling Professors waited in an adjoining apartment.

“It was at length announced, that the learned Professor of Signs was

ready to receive his Excellency, who, on entering the room, was struck

with astonishment at his venerable and dignified appearance. As none of

the Professors would presume to enter, to witness the interview, under

a pretence of delicacy, (but, in reality, for fear that their presence

might have some effect upon the risible muscles of Geordy's countenance)

they waited with inconceivable anxiety, the result of this strange

adventure, upon which depended their own credit, that of the King, and,

in some degree, the honour of the nation.

“As this was an interview of signs, the Ambassador began with Geordy,

by holding up one of his fingers; Geordy replied, by holding up two. The

Ambassador then held up three; Geordy answered, by clenching his fist,

and looking sternly. The Ambassador then took an orange from his pocket,

and held it up; Geordy returned the compliment, by taking from his

pocket a ~264~~ piece of a barley cake, which he exhibited in a similar

manner. The ambassador, satisfied with the vast attainments of the

learned Professor, then bowed before him with profound reverence, and

retired. On rejoining the agitated Professors, they fearfully began to

enquire what his Excellency thought of their learned brother? 'He is

a perfect miracle,' replied the Ambassador, 'his worth is not to be

purchased by the wealth of half the Indies.' 'May we presume to descend

to particulars?' returned the Professors, who now began to think

themselves somewhat out of danger. 'Gentlemen,' said the Ambassador,

'when I first entered into his presence, I held up one finger, to denote

that there is one God. He then held up two, signifying that the Father

should not be divided from the Son. I then held up three, intimating,

that I believed in Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. He then clenched his

fist, and, looking sternly at me, signified, that these three are

one; and that he would defy me, either to separate them, or to make

additions. I then took out an orange from my pocket, and held it up, to

show the goodness of God, and to signify that he gives to his creatures

not only the necessaries, but even the luxuries of life. Then, to my

utter astonishment, this wonderful man took from his pocket a piece of

bread, thus assuring me, that this was the staff of life, and was to be

preferred to all the luxuries in the world. Being thus satisfied with

his proficiency and great attainments in this science, I silently

withdrew, to reflect upon what I had witnessed.' “Diverted with the

success of their stratagem, the Professors continued to entertain their

visitor, until he thought prudent to withdraw. No sooner had he retired,

than the opportunity was seized to learn from Geordy, in what manner he

had proceeded to give the Ambassador such wonderful satisfaction; they

being at a loss to conceive how he could have caught his ideas with

so much promptitude, and have replied to them with proportionable

readiness. But, that one story might not borrow any features from

the other, they concealed from Geordy all they had learned from the

Ambassador; and desiring him to begin with his relation, he proceeded in

the following manner:--'When the rascal came into the room, after gazing

at me a little, what do you think, gentlemen, that he did? He held up

one finger, as much as to say, you have only one eye. I then held up

two, to ~265~~ let him know that my one eye was as good as both of

his. He then held up three, as much as to say, we have only three eyes

between us. This was so provoking, that I bent my fist at the scoundrel,

and had it not been for your sakes, I should certainly have risen from

the chair, pulled off my wig and gown, and taught him how to insult a

man, because he had the misfortune to lose one eye. The impudence of

the fellow, however, did not stop here; for he then pulled out an orange

from his pocket, and held it up, as much as to say, Your poor beggarly

country cannot produce this. I then pulled out a piece of good cake, and

held it up, giving him to understand, that I did not care a farthing for

his trash. Neither do I; and I only regret, that I did not thrash the

scoundrel's hide, that he might remember how he insulted me, and abused

my country.' We may learn from hence, that if there are not two ways of

telling a story, there are at least two ways of understanding Signs, and

also of interpreting them.”

This story, which was told with considerable effect by their merry

companion, alternately called forth loud bursts of laughter, induced

profound silence, and particularly interested and delighted young

Mortimer and Tallyho; while Merrywell kept the glass in circulation,

insisting on _no day-light_{1} nor _heel-taps_,{2} and the lads began

to feel themselves all in high feather. Time was passing in fearless

enjoyment, and Frank Harry being called on by Merrywell for a song,

declared he had no objection to tip 'em a rum chant, provided it was

agreed that it should go round.

This proposal was instantly acceded to, a promise made that he should

not be at a loss for a good _coal-box_;{3} and after a little more

rosin, without which, he said, he could not pitch the key-note, he sung

the following~266~~

SONG.

Oh, London! dear London! magnanimous City,

Say where is thy likeness again to be found?

Here pleasures abundant, delightful and pretty,

All whisk us and frisk us in magical round;

1 No day-light--That is to leave no space in the glass; or,

in other words, to take a bumper.

2 Heel-taps--To leave no wine at the bottom.

3 Coal-box--A very common corruption of chorus.

Here we have all that in life can merry be,

Looking and laughing with friends Hob and Nob,

More frolic and fun than there's bloom on the cherry-tree,

While we can muster a _Sovereign Bob_.

(Spoken)--Yes, yes, London is the large world in a small compass: it

contains all the comforts and pleasures of human life--“Aye aye, (says a Bumpkin to his more accomplished

Kinsman) Ye mun brag o' yer Lunnun fare; if smoak, smother, mud, and

makeshift be the comforts and pleasures, gie me free air, health and

a cottage.”--Ha, ha, ha, Hark at the just-catch'd Johnny Rata, (says a

bang-up Lad in a lily-shallow and upper toggery) where the devil did

you come from? who let you loose upon society? d------e, you ought to

be coop'd up at Exeter 'Change among the wild beasts, the Kangaroos and

Catabaws, and shewn as the eighth wonder of the world! Shew 'em in! Shew

'em in! stir him up with a long pole; the like never seen before;

here's the head of an owl with the tail of an ass--all alive, alive O!

D------me how the fellow stares; what a marvellous piece of a mop-stick

without thrums.--“By gum (says the Bumpkin) you looks more like an ape,

and Ise a great mind to gie thee a douse o' the chops.”--You'd soon find

yourself chop-fallen there, my nabs, (replies his antagonist)--you are

not up to the gammon--you must go to College and learn to sing

Oh, London! dear London! &c.

Here the streets are so gay, and the features so smiling,

With uproar and noise, bustle, bother, and gig;

The lasses (dear creatures! ) each sorrow beguiling,

The Duke and the Dustman, the Peer and the Prig;

Here is his Lordship from gay Piccadilly,

There an ould Clothesman from Rosemary Lane;

Here is a Dandy in search of a filly,

And there is a Blood, ripe for milling a pane.

(Spoken)--All higgledy-piggledy, pigs in the straw--Lawyers, Lapidaries,

Lamplighters, and Lap-dogs--Men-milliners, Money-lenders, and Fancy

Millers, Mouse-trap Mongers, and Matchmen, in one eternal round of

variety! Paradise is a pail of cold water in comparison with its

unparalleled pleasures--and the wishing cap of Fortunatus could not

produce a greater abundance of delight--Cat's Meat--Dog's Meat--Here

they are all four a penny, hot hot hot, smoking hot, piping hot

hot Chelsea Buns--Clothes sale, clothes--Sweep, sweep--while a poor

bare-footed Ballad Singer with a hoarse discordant voice at intervals

chimes in with

“They led me like a pilgrim thro' the labyrinth of care,

You may know me by my sign and the robe that I wear;”

~267~~ so that the concatenation of sounds mingling all at once into

one undistinguished concert of harmony, induces me to add mine to the

number, by singing--

Oh, London! dear London! &c.

The Butcher, whose tray meets the dough of the Baker,

And bundles his bread-basket out of his hand;

The Exquisite Lad, and the dingy Flue Faker,{1}

And coaches to go that are all on the stand:

Here you may see the lean sons of Parnassus,

The puffing Perfumer, so spruce and so neat;

While Ladies, who flock to the fam'd Bonassus,

Are boning our hearts as we walk thro' the street.

(Spoken)--“In gude truth,” says a brawney Scotchman, “I'se ne'er see'd

sic bonny work in a' my liefe--there's nae walking up the streets

without being knock'd doon, and nae walking doon the streets without

being tripp'd up.”--“Blood-an-oons, (says an Irishman) don't be after

blowing away your breath in blarney, my dear, when you'll want it

presently to cool your barley broth.”--“By a leaf,” cries a Porter with

a chest of drawers on his knot, and, passing between them, capsizes

both at once, then makes the best of his way on a jog-trot, humming

to himself, Ally Croaker, or Hey diddle Ho diddle de; and leaving

the fallen heroes to console themselves with broken heads, while

some officious friends are carefully placing them on their legs, and

genteelly easing their pockets of the possibles; after which they

toddle off at leisure, to sing

Oh, London! dear London! &c.

Then for buildings so various, ah, who would conceive it,

Unless up to London they'd certainly been?

'Tis a truth, I aver, tho' you'd scarcely believe it,

That at the Court end not a Court's to be seen;

Then for grandeur or style, pray where is the nation

For fashion or folly can equal our own?

Or fit out a fête like the grand Coronation?

I defy the whole world, there is certainly none.

(Spoken)--Talk of sights and sounds--is not there the Parliament

House, the King's Palace, and the Regent's Bomb--The Horse-guards,

the Body-guards, and the Black-guards--The Black-legs, and the

Bluestockings--The Horn-blower, and the Flying Pie-man--The Indian

Juggler--Punch and Judy--(imitating the well-known Show-man)--The young

and the old, the grave and the gay--The modest Maid and the willing

Cyprian--The Theatres--The Fives Court and the Court of Chancery--~268~~

1 Flue Faker--A cant term for Chimney-sweep.

The Giants in Guildhall, to be seen by great and small, and,

what's more than all, the Coronation Ball--

Mirth, fun, frolic, and frivolity,

To please the folks of quality:

For all that can please the eye, the ear, the taste, the touch,

the smell,

Whether bang-up in life, unfriended or undone,

No place has such charms as the gay town of London.

Oh, Loudon! dear London! &c.

The quaint peculiarities of the Singer gave indescribable interest to

this song, as he altered his voice to give effect to the various cries

of the inhabitants, and it was knock'd down with three times three

rounds of applause; when Merrywell, being named for the next, sung,

accompanied with Dashall and Frank Harry, the following

GLEE.

“Wine, bring me wine--come fill the sparkling glass,

Brisk let the bottle circulate;

Name, quickly name each one his fav'rite lass,

Drive from your brows the clouds of fate:

Fill the sparkling bumper high,

Let us drain the bottom dry.

Come, thou grape-encircled Boy!

From thy blissful seats above,

Crown the present hours with joy,

Bring me wine and bring me love:

Fill the sparkling bumper high,

Let us drain the bottom dry.

Bacchus, o'er my yielding lip

Spread the produce of thy vine;

Love, thy arrows gently dip,

Temp'ring them with generous wine:

Fill the sparkling bumper high,

Let us drain the bottom dry.”

In the mean time, the enemy of life was making rapid strides upon them

unheeded, till Dashall reminded Merrywell of their intended visit to

the East; and that as he expected a large portion of amusement in that

quarter, he proposed a move.

They were by this time all well primed--ripe for a rumpus--bang-up for a

lark or spree, any where, any how, or with any body; they therefore took

leave of their present scene of gaiety.~269~~

CHAPTER XVIII

“Wand'ring with listless gait and spirits gay,

They Eastward next pursued their jocund way;

With story, joke, smart repartee and pun,

Their business pleasure, and their object fun.”

IT was a fine moonlight evening, and upon leaving the Globe, they again

found themselves in the hurry, bustle, and noise of the world. The glare

of the gas-lights, and the rattling of coaches, carts and vehicles of

various-descriptions, mingled with

“The busy hum of men,”

attracted the attention of their eyes and ears, while the exhilarating

juice of the bottle had given a circulation to the blood which

enlivened imagination and invigorated fancy. Bob conceived himself in

Elysium, and Frank Harry was as frisky as a kitten. The first object

that arrested their progress was the house of Mr. Hone, whose political

Parodies, and whose trials on their account, have given him so much

celebrity. His window at the moment exhibited his recent satirical

publication entitled a Slap at Slop and the Bridge Street Gang.{1}

1 The great wit and humour displayed in this publication

have deservedly entitled it to rank high among the jeu

desprit productions of this lively age--to describe it were

impossible--to enjoy it must be to possess it; but for the

information of such of our readers as are remote from the

Metropolis, it may perhaps be necessary to give something

like a key of explanation to its title. A certain learned

Gentleman, formerly the Editor of the Times, said now to be

the Conductor of the New Times, who has by his writings

rendered himself obnoxious to a numerous class of readers,

has been long known by the title of Dr. Slop; in his

publication, denominated the mock Times, and the Slop Pail,

he has been strenuous in his endeavours to support and

uphold a Society said to mis-call themselves The

Constitutional Society, but now denominated The Bridge

Street Gang; and the publication alluded to, contains

humorous and satirical parodies, and sketches of the usual

contents of his Slop Pail; with a Life of the learned

Doctor, and an account of the origin of the Gang.

~270~~ “Here,” said Tom, “we are introduced at once into a fine field

of observation. The inhabitant of this house defended himself in three

different trials for the publication of alleged impious, profane, and

scandalous libels on the Catechism, the Litany, and the Creed of St.

Athanasius, with a boldness, intrepidity, and perseverance, almost

unparalleled, as they followed in immediate succession, without even an

allowance of time for bodily rest or mental refreshment.”

“Yes,” continued Frank Harry, “and gained a verdict on each occasion,

notwithstanding the combined efforts of men in power, and those whose

constant practice in our Courts of Law, with learning and information at

their fingers ends, rendered his enemies fearful antagonists.”

“It was a noble struggle,” said Tallyho; “I remember we had accounts

of it in the country, and we did not fail to express our opinions by

subscriptions to remunerate the dauntless defender of the rights and

privileges of the British subject.”

“_Tip us your flipper_“{1} said Harry---“then I see you are a true bit

of the bull breed--one of us, as I may say. Well, now you see the spot

of earth he inhabits--zounds, man, in his shop you will find amusement

for a month--see here is The House that Jack Built--there is the Queen's

Matrimonial Ladder, do you mark?--What think you of these qualifications

for a Gentleman?

“In love, and in liquor, and o'ertoppled with debt, With women, with

wine, and with duns on the fret.”

There you have the Nondescript--

“A something, a nothing--what none understand,

Be-mitred, be-crowned, but without heart or hand;

There's Jack in the Green too, and Noodles, alas!

“Who doodle John Bull of gold, silver, and brass.

“Come,” said Dashall, “you must cut your story short; I know if you

begin to preach, we shall have a sermon as long as from here to South

America, so allons;” and with this impelling his Cousin forward, they

1 Tip us your Flipper--your mawley--your daddle, or your

thieving hook; are terms made use of as occasions may suit

the company in which they are introduced, to signify a desire

to shake hands.

~271~~ approached towards Saint Paul's, chiefly occupied in conversation

on the great merit displayed in the excellent designs of Mr. Cruikshank,

which embellish the work they had just been viewing; nor did they

discover any thing further worthy of notice, till Bob's ears were

suddenly attracted by a noise somewhat like that of a rattle, and

turning sharply round to discover from whence it came, was amused with

the sight of several small busts of great men, apparently dancing to the

music of a weaver's shuttle.{1}

“What the devil do you call this?” said he--“is it an exhibition of

wax-work, or a model academy?”

“Neither,” replied Dashall; “this is no other than the shop of a

well-known dealer in stockings and nightcaps, who takes this ingenious

mode of making himself popular, and informing the passengers that

“Here you may be served with all patterns and sizes,

From the foot to the head, at moderate prices;”

with woolens for winter, and cottons for summer--Let us move on, for

there generally is a crowd at the door, and there is little doubt but he

profits by those who are induced to gaze, as most people do in London,

if they can but entrap attention. Romanis is one of those gentlemen who

has contrived to make some noise in the world by puffing advertisements,

and the circulation of poetical handbills. He formerly kept a very small

shop for the sale of hosiery nearly opposite the East-India House, where

he supplied the Sailors after receiving their pay for a long voyage, as

well as their Doxies, with the articles in which he deals, by obtaining

permission to style himself “Hosier to the Rt. Hon. East India Company.”

Since which, finding his trade increase and his purse extended, he has

extended his patriotic views of clothing the whole population of London

by opening shops in various parts, and has at almost all times two or

three depositories for

1 Romanis, the eccentric Hosier, generally places a loom near the door

of his shops decorated with small busts; some of which being attached

to the upper movements of the machinery, and grotesquely attired in

patchwork and feathers, bend backwards and forwards with the motion of

the works, apparently to salute the spectators, and present to the idea

persons dancing; while every passing of the shuttle produces a noise

which may be assimilated to that of the Rattlesnake, accompanied with

sounds something like those of a dancing-master beating time to his

scholars. ~272~~ his stock. At this moment, besides what we have just

seen, there is one in Gracechurch Street, and another in Shoreditch,

where the passengers are constantly assailed by a little boy, who stands

at the door with some bills in his hand, vociferating--Cheap, cheap.”

“Then,” said Bob, “wherever he resides I suppose may really be called

Cheapside?”

“With quite as much propriety,” continued Ton, “as the place we are now

in; for, as the Irishman says in his song,

“At a place called Cheapside they sell every thing dear.”

During this conversation, Mortimer, Merrywell, and Harry were amusing

themselves by occasionally addressing the numerous Ladies who were

passing, and taking a peep at the shops--giggling with girls, or

admiring the taste and elegance displayed in the sale of fashionable and

useful articles--justled and impeded every now and then by the throng.

Approaching Bow Church, they made a dead stop for a moment.

“What a beautiful steeple!” exclaimed Bob; “I should, though no

architect, prefer this to any I have yet seen in London.”

“Your remark,” replied Dashall, “does credit to your taste; it is

considered the finest in the Metropolis. St. Paul's displays the grand

effort of Sir Christopher Wren; but there are many other fine specimens

of his genius to be seen in the City. His Latin Epitaph in St. Paul's

may be translated thus: 'If you seek his monument, look around you;' and

we may say of this steeple, 'If you wish a pillar to his fame, look

up.' The interior of the little church, Walbrook,{1} (St. Stephen's) is

likewise considered a

1 This church is perhaps unrivalled, for the beauty of the

architecture of its interior. For harmony of proportion,

grace, airiness, variety, and elegance, it is not to be

surpassed. It is a small church, built in the form of a

cross. The roof is supported by Corinthian columns, so

disposed as to raise an idea of grandeur, which the

dimensions of the structure do not seem to promise. Over the

centre, at which the principal aisles cross, is a dome

divided into compartments, the roof being partitioned in a

similar manner, and the whole finely decorated. The effect

of this build-ing is inexpressibly delightful; the eye at

one glance embracing a plan full and distinct, and

afterwards are seen a greater number of parts than the

spectator was prepared to expect. It is known and admired on

the Continent, as a master-piece of art. Over the altar is a

fine painting of the martyrdom of St. Stephen, by West.

~273~~ _chef d'ouvre_ of the same artist, and serves to display the

versatility of his genius.”

Instead however of looking up, Bob was looking over the way, where a

number of people, collected round a bookseller's window, had attracted

his attention.

“Apropos,” cried Dashall,--“The Temple of Apollo--we should have

overlook'd a fine subject, but for your remark--yonder is Tegg's Evening

Book Auction, let us cross and see what's going on. He is a fellow of

'infinite mirth and good humour,' and many an evening have I passed at

his Auction, better amused than by a farce at the Theatre.”

They now attempted to cross, but the intervening crowd of carriages,

three or four deep, and in a line as far as the eye could reach, for the

present opposed an obstacle.

“If I could think of it,” said Sparkle, “I'd give you the Ode on his

Birth-day, which I once saw in MS.--it is the _jeu d'esprit_ of a very

clever young Poet, and who perhaps one of these days may be better

known; but poets, like anatomical subjects, are worth but little till

dead.”

“And for this reason, I suppose,” says Tom, “their friends and patrons

are anxious they should rather be starved than die a natural death.”

“Oh! now I have it--let us remain in the Church-yard a few minutes,

while the carriages pass, and you shall hear it.”~274~~

“Ye hackney-coaches, and ye carts,

That oft so well perform your parts

For those who choose to ride,

Now louder let your music grow--

Your heated axles fiery glow--

Whether you travel quick or slow-

In Cheapside.

For know, “ye ragged rascals all,”

(As H----- would in his pulpit bawl

With cheeks extended wide)

Know, as you pass the crowded way,

This is the happy natal day

Of Him whose books demand your stay

In Cheapside.

'Twas on the bright propitious morn

When the facetious Tegcy was born,

Of mirth and fun the pride,

That Nature said “good Fortune follow,

Bear him thro' life o'er hill and hollow,

Give him the Temple of Apollo

In Cheapside.”

Then, O ye sons of Literature!

Shew your regard for Mother Nature,

Nor let her be denied:

Hail! hail the man whose happy birth

May tell the world of mental worth;

They'll find the best books on the earth

In Cheapside.

“Good!” exclaimed Bob; “but we will now endeavour to make our way

across, and take a peep at the subject of the Ode.”

Finding the auction had not yet commenced, Sparkle proposed adjourning

to the Burton Coffee House in the adjacent passage, taking a nip of ale

by way of refreshment and exhilaration, and returning in half an hour.

This proposition was cordially agreed to by all, except Tallyho, whose

attention was engrossed by a large collection of Caricatures which

lay exposed in a portfolio on the table beneath the rostrum. The

irresistible broad humour of the subjects had taken fast hold of his

risible muscles, and in turning them over one after the other, he found

it difficult to part with such a rich fund of humour, and still more so

to stifle the violent emotion it excited. At length, clapping his hands

to his sides, he gave full vent to the impulse in a horse-laugh from a

pair of truly Stentorian lungs, and was by main force dragged out by his

companions.

While seated in the comfortable enjoyment of their nips of ale, Sparkle,

with his usual vivacity, began an elucidation of the subjects they

had just left. “The collection of Caricatures,” said he, “which is

considered the largest in London, are mostly from the pencil of that

self-taught artist, the late George Woodward, and display not only a

genuine and original style of humour in the design, but a corresponding

and appropriate character in the dialogue, or speeches connected with

the figures. Like his contemporary in another branch of the art, George

Morland, he possessed all the eccentricity and thoughtless improvidence

so common and frequently so fatal to genius; and had not his good

fortune led him towards Bow Church, he must have suffered severe

privations, and perhaps eventually have perished of want. Here, he

always found a ready market, and a liberal price for his productions,

however rude or hasty the sketch, or whatever might be the subject of

them.”

~275~~ “As to books,” continued he, “all ages, classes, and appetites,

may be here suited. The superficial dabbler in, and pretender to every

thing, will find collections, selections, beauties, flowers, gems, &c.

The man of real knowledge may here purchase the elements, theory,

and practice of every art and science, in all the various forms and

dimensions, from a single volume, to the Encyclopedia at large.

The dandy may meet with plenty of pretty little foolscap volumes,

delightfully hot-pressed, and exquisitely embellished; the contents of

which will neither fatigue by the quantity, nor require the laborious

effort of thought to comprehend. The jolly _bon-vivant_ and Bacchanal

will find abundance of the latest songs, toasts, and sentiments; and the

Would-be-Wit will meet with Joe Miller in such an endless variety of

new dresses, shapes, and sizes, that he may fancy he possesses all the

collected wit of ages brought down to the present moment. The young

Clerical will find sermons adapted to every local circumstance, every

rank and situation in society, and may furnish himself with a complete

stock in trade of sound orthodox divinity; while the City Epicure may

store himself with a complete library on the arts of confectionary,

cookery, &c, from Apicius, to the “Glutton's Almanack.” The Demagogue

may furnish himself with flaming patriotic speeches, ready cut and

dried, which he has only to learn by heart against the next Political

Dinner, and if he should not 'let the cat out,' by omitting to

substitute the name of Londonderry for Cæsar, he may pass off for a

second Brutus, and establish an equal claim to oratory with Burke, Pitt,

and Fox. The----”

“Auction will be over,” interrupted Bob, “before you get half through

your descriptive Catalogue of the Books, so finish your nip, and let us

be off.”

They entered, and found the Orator hard at it, knocking down with all

the energy of a Crib, and the sprightly wit of a Sheridan. Puns, bon

mots, and repartees, flew about like crackers.

“The next lot, Gentlemen, is the Picture of London,--impossible to

possess a more useful book--impossible to say what trouble and expence

may be avoided by the possession of this little volume. When your

Country Cousins pay you a visit, what a bore, what an expence, to be

day after day leading them about--taking them up the Monument--down

the Adelphi--round St. Paul's--across the ~276~~ Parks, through the new

Streets--along the Strand, or over the Docks, the whole of which may be

avoided at the expence of a few shillings. You have only to clap into

their pocket in the morning this invaluable little article, turn them

out for the day, and, if by good luck they should not fall into the

hands of sharpers and swindlers, your dear Coz will return safe home at

night, with his head full of wonders, and his pockets empty of cash!”

“The d----l,” whispered Bob, “he seems to know me, and what scent we are

upon.”

“Aye,” replied his Cousin, “he not only knows you, but he knows that

some of your cash will soon be in his pockets, and has therefore made a

dead set at you.”

“Next lot, Gentlemen, is a work to which my last observation bore some

allusion; should your friends, as I then observed, fortunately escape

the snares and dangers laid by sharpers and swindlers to entrap the

unwary, you may, perchance, see them safe after their day's ramble; but

should--aye, Gentlemen, there's the rub--should they be caught by the

numerous traps and snares laid for the Johnny Raw and Greenhorn in this

great and wicked metropolis, God knows what may become of them. Now,

Gentlemen, we have a remedy for every disease--here is the London Spy

or Stranger's Guide through the Metropolis; here all the arts, frauds,

delusions, &c. are exposed, and--Tom, give that Gentleman change for

his half crown, and deliver Lot 3.--As I was before observing,

Gentlemen--Turn out that young rascal who is making such a noise,

cracking nuts, that I can't hear the bidding.--Gentlemen, as I before

observed, if you will do me the favour of bidding me--”

“Good night, Sir,” cried a younker, who had just exploded a detonating

cracker, and was making his escape through the crowd.

“The next lot, gentlemen, is the Young Man's best Companion, and as your

humble Servant is the author, he begs to decline any panegyric--modesty

forbids it--but leaves it entirely with you to appreciate its

merits--two shillings--two and six--three shillings--three and

six--four, going for four--for you, Sir, at four.”

“Me, Sir! Lord bless you, I never opened my mouth!”

“Perfectly aware of that, Sir, it was quite unnecessary--I could read

your intention in your eye--and observed the muscle of the mouth, call'd

by anatomists the

~277~~ _zygomaticus major_, in the act of moving. I should have been

dull not to have noticed it--and rude not to have saved you the

trouble of speaking: Tom, deliver the Gentleman the lot, and take four

shillings.”

“Well, Sir, I certainly feel flattered with your acute and polite

attention, and can do no less than profit by it--so hand up the

lot--cheap enough, God knows.”

“And pray,” said Dashall to his Cousin as they quitted, “what do you

intend doing with all your purchases? why it will require a waggon to

remove them.”

“O, I shall send the whole down to Belville Hall: our friends there will

be furnished with a rare stock of entertainment during the long winter

evenings, and no present I could offer would be half so acceptable.”

“Well,” remarked Mortimer, “you bid away bravely, and frequently in your

eagerness advanced on yourself: at some sales you would have paid dearly

for this; but here no advantage was taken, the mistake was explained,

and the bidding declined in the most fair and honourable manner. I have

often made considerable purchases, and never yet had reason to repent,

which is saying much; for if I inadvertently bid for, and had a lot

knocked down to me, which I afterwards disliked, I always found an

acquaintance glad to take it off my hands at the cost, and in several

instances have sold or exchanged to considerable advantage. One thing I

am sorry we overlooked: a paper entitled, “Seven Reasons,” is generally

distributed during the Sale, and more cogent reasons I assure you could

not be assigned, both for purchasing and reading in general, had the

seven wise men of Greece drawn them up. You may at any time procure a

copy, and it will furnish you with an apology for the manner in which

you have spent your time and money, for at least one hour, during your

abode in London.”

Please, Sir, to buy a ha'porth of matches, said a poor, squalid little

child without a shoe to her foot, who was running by the side of

Bob--it's the last ha'porth, Sir, and I must sell them before I go home.

This address was uttered in so piteous a tone, that it could not well be

passed unheeded.

“Why,” said Tallyho, “as well as Bibles and Schools for all, London

seems to have a match for every body.”

“Forty a penny, Spring-radishes,” said a lusty bawling ~278~~ fellow as

he passed, in a voice so loud and strong, as to form a complete contrast

to the little ragged Petitioner, 'who held out her handful of matches

continuing her solicitations. Bob put his hand in his pocket, and gave

her sixpence.

“We shall never get on at this rate,” said Tom; “and I find I must again

advise you not to believe all you hear and see. These little ragged

run-abouts are taught by their Parents a species of imposition or

deception of which you are not aware, and while perhaps you congratulate

yourself with 'the thought of having done a good act, you are only

contributing to the idleness and dissipation of a set of hardened

beings, who are laughing at your credulity; and I suspect this is a case

in point--do you see that woman on the opposite side of the way, and the

child giving her the money?”

“I do,” said Tallyho; “that, I suppose, is her mother?”

“Probably,” continued Dashall--“now mark what will follow.”

They stopped a short time, and observed that the Child very soon

disposed of her last bunch of matches, as she had termed them, gave the

money to the woman, who supplied her in return with another last bunch,

to be disposed of in a similar way.

“Is it possible?” said Bob.

“Not only possible, but you see it is actual; it is not however the only

species of deceit practised with success in London in a similar way;

indeed the trade of match-making has latterly been a good one among

those who have been willing to engage in it. Many persons of decent

appearance, representing themselves to be tradesmen and mechanics out

of employ, have placed themselves at the corners of our streets, and

canvassed the outskirts of the town, with green bags, carrying matches,

which, by telling a pityful tale, they induce housekeepers and others,

who commiserate their situation, to purchase; and, in the evening, are

able to figure away in silk stockings with the produce of their labours.

There is one man, well known in town, who makes a very good livelihood

by bawling in a stentorian voice,

“Whow whow, will you buy my good matches,

Whow whow, will you buy my good matches,

Buy my good matches, come buy'em of me.”

~279~~ He is usually dressed in something like an old military great

coat, wears spectacles, and walks with a stick.”

“And is a match for any body, match him who can,”, cried Frank Harry;

“But, bless your heart, that's nothing to another set of gentry, who

have infested our streets in clean apparel, with a broom in their hands,

holding at the same time a hat to receive the contributions of the

passengers, whose benevolent donations are drawn forth without inquiry

by the appearance of the applicant.”

“It must,” said Tallyho, “arise from the distresses of the times.”

“There may be something in that,” said Tom; “but in many instances it

has arisen from the depravity of the times--to work upon the well-known

benevolent feelings of John Bull; for those who ambulate the public

streets of this overgrown and still increasing Metropolis and its

principal avenues, are continually pestered with impudent impostors, of

both sexes, soliciting charity--men and women, young and old, who get

more by their pretended distresses in one day than many industrious and

painstaking tradesmen or mechanics do in a week. All the miseries,

all the pains of life, with tears that ought to be their honest and

invariable signals, can be and are counterfeited--limbs, which enjoy the

fair proportion of nature, are distorted, to work upon humanity--fits

are feigned and wounds manufactured--rags, and other appearances of the

most squalid and abject poverty, are assumed, as the best engines of

deceit, to procure riches to the idle and debaucheries to the infamous.

Ideal objects of commiseration are undoubtedly to be met with, though

rarely to be found. It requires a being hackneyed in the ways of men, or

having at least some knowledge of the town, to be able to discriminate

the party deserving of benevolence; but

“A begging they will go will go,

And a begging they will go.”

The chief cause assigned by some for the innumerable classes of

mendicants that infest our streets, is a sort of innate principle of

independence and love of liberty. However, it must be apparent that they

do not like to work, and to beg they are not ashamed; they are,

with very few exceptions, lazy and impudent. And then what ~280~~ is

collected from the humane but deluded passengers is of course expended

at their festivals in Broad Street, St. Giles's, or some other equally

elegant and appropriate part of the town, to which we shall at an early

period pay a visit. Their impudence is intolerable; for, if refused

a contribution, they frequently follow up the denial with the vilest

execrations.

“To make the wretched blest,

Private charity is best.”

“The common beggar spurns at your laws; indeed many of their arts are so

difficult of detection, that they are enabled to escape the vigilance of

the police, and with impunity insult those who do not comply with their

wishes, seeming almost to say,

“While I am a beggar I will rail,

And say there is no sin but to be rich;

And being rich, my virtue then shall be,

To say there is no vice but beggary.”

“Begging has become so much a sort of trade, that parents have been

known to give their daughters or sons the begging of certain streets in

the metropolis as marriage portions; and some years ago some scoundrels

were in the practice of visiting the outskirts of the town in sailors'

dresses, pretending to be dumb, and producing written papers stating

that their tongues had been cut out by the Algerines, by which means

they excited compassion, and were enabled to live well.”

“No doubt it is a good trade,” said Merry well, “and I expected we

should have been made better acquainted with its real advantages by

Capt. Barclay, of walking and sporting celebrity, who, it was said, had

laid a wager of 1000L. that he would walk from London to Edinburgh in

the assumed character of a beggar, pay all his expences of living well

on the road, and save out of his gains fifty pounds.”

“True,” said Tom, “but according to the best account that can be

obtained, that report is without foundation. The establishment, however,

of the Mendicity Society{1}

1 The frauds and impositions practised upon the public are

so numerous, that volumes might be filled by detailing the

arts that have been and are resorted to by mendicants; and

the records of the Society alluded to would furnish

instances that might almost stagger the belief of the most

credulous. The life of the infamous Vaux exhibits numerous

instances in which he obtained money under genteel

professions, by going about with a petition soliciting the

aid and assistance of the charitable and humane; and

therefore are continually cheats who go from door to door

collecting money for distressed families, or for charitable

purposes. It is, however, a subject so abundant, and

increasing by every day's observation, that we shall for the

present dismiss it, as there will be other opportunities in

the course of the work for going more copiously into it.

281~~ is calculated to discover much on this subject, and has already

brought to light many instances of depravity and deception, well

deserving the serious consideration of the public.”

As they approached the end of the Poultry,--“This,” said Dashall, “is

the heart of the first commercial city in the known world. On the right

is the Mansion House, the residence of the Lord Mayor for the time

being.”

The moon had by this time almost withdrawn her cheering beams, and there

was every appearance, from the gathering clouds, of a shower of rain.

“It is rather a heavy looking building, from what I can see at present,”

replied Tallyho.

“Egad!” said Tom, “the appearance of every thing at this moment is

gloomy, let us cross.”

With this, they crossed the road to Debatt's the Pastry Cook's Shop.

“Zounds!” said Tom, casting his eye upon the clock, “it is after ten; I

begin to suspect we must alter our course, and defer a view of the east

to a more favourable opportunity, and particularly as we are likely to

have an accompaniment of water.”

“Never mind,” said Merrywell, “we can very soon be in very comfortable

quarters; besides, a rattler is always to be had or a comfortable

lodging to be procured with an obliging bed-fellow--don't you begin to

croak before there is any occasion for it--what has time to do with us?”

“Aye aye,” said Frank Harry, “don't be after damping us before we

get wet; this is the land of plenty, and there is no fear of being

lost--come along.”

“On the opposite side,” said Tom, addressing his Cousin, “is the Bank of

England; it is a building of large extent and immense business; you can

now only discern its exterior by the light of the lamps; it is however

a place 282~~ to which we must pay a visit, and take a complete survey

upon some future occasion. In the front is the Royal Exchange, the daily

resort of the Merchants and Traders of the Metropolis, to transact their

various business.”

“Come,” said Merry well, “I find we are all upon the right scent--Frank

Harry has promised to introduce us to a house of well known resort in

this neighbourhood--we will shelter ourselves under the staple commodity

of the country--for the Woolsack and the Woolpack, I apprehend, are

synonimous.”

“Well thought of, indeed,” said Dashall; “it is a house where you may

at all times be certain of good accommodation and respectable

society--besides, I have some acquaintance there of long standing, and

may probably meet with them; so have with you, my boys. The Woolpack

in Cornhill,” continued he, addressing himself more particularly to

Tallyho, “is a house that has been long established, and deservedly

celebrated for its general accommodations, partaking as it does of the

triple qualifications of tavern, chop-house, and public-house. Below

stairs is a commodious room for smoking parties, and is the constant

resort of foreigners,{1}

1 There is an anecdote related, which strongly induces a

belief that Christian VII. while in London, visited this

house in company with his dissipated companion, Count

Holcke, which, as it led to the dismissal of Holcke, and the

promotion of the afterwards unfortunate Struensée, and is

perhaps not very generally known, we shall give here.

One day while in London, Count Holcke and Christian vir.

went to a well-known public-house not far from the Bank,

which was much frequented by Dutch and Swedish Captains:

Here they listened to the conversation of the company,

which, as might be expected, was full of expressions of

admiration and astonishment at the splendid festivities

daily given in honour of Christian VII. Count Holcke, who

spoke German in its purity, asked an old Captain what he

thought of his King, and if he were not proud of the honours

paid to him by the English?--“I think (said the old man

dryly) that with such counsellors as Count Holcke, if he

escapes destruction it will be a miracle.”--' Do you know

Count Holcke, my friend, (said the disguised courtier) as

you speak of him thus familiarly?'--“Only by report (replied

the Dane); but every person in Copenhagen pities the young

Queen, attributing the coolness which the King shewed

towards her, ere he set out on his voyage, to the malicious

advice of Holcke.” The confusion of this minion may be

easier conceived than described; whilst the King, giving the

Skipper a handful of ducats, bade him _speak the truth and

shame the devil_. As soon, however, as the King spoke in

Danish, the Skipper knew him, and looking at him with love

and reverence, said in a low, subdued tone of voice--”

Forgive me, Sire, but I cannot forbear my tears to see you

exposed to the temptations of this extensive and wicked

Metropolis, under the pilotage of the most dissolute

nobleman of Denmark.” Upon which he retired, bowing

profoundly to his Sovereign, and casting at Count Holcke a

look full of defiance and reproach. Holcke's embarrassment

was considerably increased by this, and he was visibly hurt,

seeing the King in a manner countenanced the rudeness of the

Skipper.

This King, who it should seem determined to see _Real Life

in London_, mingled in all societies, participating in their

gaieties and follies, and by practices alike injurious to

body and soul, abandoned himself to destructive habits,

whose rapid progress within a couple of years left nothing

but a shattered and debilitated hulk afflicted in the

morning of life with all the imbecility of body and mind

incidental to extreme old age.

~283~~ who are particularly partial to the brown stout, which they can

obtain there in higher perfection than in any other house in London.

Brokers and others, whose business calls them to the Royal Exchange, are

also pretty constant visitors, to meet captains and traders--dispose of

different articles of merchandise--engage shipping and bind bargains--it

is a sort of under Exchange, where business and refreshment go hand in

hand with the news of the day, and the clamour of the moment; beside

which, the respectable tradesmen of the neighbourhood meet in an evening

to drive dull care away, and converse on promiscuous subjects; it is

generally a mixed company, but, being intimately connected with our

object of seeing _Real Life in London_, deserves a visit. On the first

floor is a good room for dining, where sometimes eighty persons in a

day are provided with that necessary meal in a genteel style, and at a

moderate price--besides other rooms for private parties. Above these is

perhaps one of the handsomest rooms in London, of its size, capable of

dining from eighty to a hundred persons. But you will now partake of its

accommodations, and mingle with some of its company.”

By this time they had passed the Royal Exchange, and Tom was enlarging

upon the new erections lately completed; when all at once,

“Hallo,” said Bob, “what is become of our party?” “All right,” replied

his Cousin; “they have given us the slip without slipping from us--I

know their movements to a moment, we shall very soon be with them--this

way--this way,” said he, drawing Bob into the narrow passage which leads

to the back of St. Peter's Church, Cornhill--“this is the track we must

follow.”

Tallyho followed in silence till they entered the house, and were

greeted by the Landlord at the bar with a bow of welcome; passing

quickly to the right, they were saluted with immoderate volumes of

smoke, conveying to their olfactory nerves the refreshing fumes of

tobacco, and almost taking from them the power of sight, except to

observe a bright flame burning in the middle of the room. Tom darted

forward, and knowing his way well, was quickly seated by the side of

Merrywell, Mortimer, and Harry; while Tallyho was seen by those who were

invisible to him', groping his way in the same direction, amidst the

laughter of the company, occasionally interlarded with scraps which

caught his ear from a gentleman who was at the moment reading some of

the comments from the columns of the Courier, in which he made frequent

pauses and observations.

~284~~ “Why, you can't see yourself for smoke,” said one; “D------n it

how hard you tread,” said another. And then a line from the Reader came

as follows--“The worthy Alderman fought his battles o'er again--Ha, ha,

ha--Who comes here 1 upon my word, Sir, I thought you had lost your way,

and tumbled into the Woolpack instead of the Skin-market.--' It is a

friend of mine, Sir.'--That's a good joke, upon my soul; not arrived

yet, why St. Martin's bells have been ringing all day; perhaps he is

only half-seas over--Don't tell me, I know better than that--D------n

that paper, it ought to be burnt by--The fish are all poison'd by the

Gas-light Company--Six weeks imprisonment for stealing two dogs!--Hides

and bark--How's sugars to-day?--Stocks down indeed--Yes, Sir, and bread

up--Presto, be gone--What d'ye think of that now, eh?--Gammon, nothing

but gammon--On table at four o'clock ready dressed and--Well done, my

boy, that's prime.”

These sentences were uttered from different parts of the room in

almost as great a variety of voices as there must have been subjects

of conversation; but as they fell upon the ear of Tallyho without

connection, he almost fancied himself transported to the tower of Babel

amidst the confusion of tongues.

“Beg pardon,” said Tallyho, who by this time had gained a seat by his

Cousin, and was gasping like a turtle for air--“I am not used to this

travelling in the dark; but I shall be able to see presently.”

“See,” said Frank Harry, “who the devil wants to see more than their

friends around them? and here we are _at home to a peg_.”

~285~~ “I shall have finished in two minutes, Gentlemen,” said the

Reader,{1} cocking up a red nose, that shone with resplendent lustre

between his spectacles, and then continuing to read on, only listened

to by a few of those around him, while a sort of general buz of

conversation was indistinctly heard from all quarters.

They were quickly supplied with grog and segars, and Bob, finding

himself a little better able to make use of his eyes, was throwing

his glances to every part of the room, in order to take a view of the

company: and while Tom was congratulated by those who knew him at the

_Round Table_--Merrywell and Harry were in close conversation with

Mortimer.

At a distant part of the room, one could perceive boxes containing small

parties of convivials, smoking and drinking, every one seeming to have

some business of importance to claim occasional attention, or engaged

in,

“The loud laugh that speaks the vacant mind.” In one corner was a stout

swarthy-looking man, with large whiskers and of ferocious appearance,

amusing those around him with conjuring tricks, to their great

satisfaction and delight; nearly opposite the Reader of the Courier, sat

an elderly Gentleman{2} with grey hair, who heard

1 To those who are in the habit of visiting this room in an

evening, the character alluded to here will immediately be

familiar. He is a gentleman well known in the neighbourhood

as an Auctioneer, and he has a peculiar manner of reading

with strong emphasis certain passages, at the end of which

he makes long pauses, laughs with inward satisfaction, and

not infrequently infuses a degree of pleasantry in others.

The Courier is his favourite paper, and if drawn into an

argument, he is not to be easily subdued.

“At arguing too each person own'd his skill,

For e'en tho' vanquish'd, he can argue still.”

2 This gentleman, who is also well known in the room, where

he generally smokes his pipe of an evening, is plain and

blunt, but affable and communicative in his manners--bold in

his assertions, and has proved himself courageous in

defending them--asthmatic, and by some termed phlegmatic;

but an intelligent and agreeable companion, unless thwarted

in his argument--a stanch friend to the late Queen and the

constitution of his country, with a desire to have the

_Constitution, the whole Constitution, and nothing but the

Constitution_.

~286~~ what was passing, but said nothing; he however puffed away large

quantities of smoke at every pause of the Reader, and occasionally

grinn'd at the contents of the paper, from which. Tallyho readily

concluded that he was in direct political opposition to its sentiments.

The acquisition of new company was not lost upon to those who were

seated at the round table, and it was not long before the Hon. Tom

Dashall was informed that they hoped to have the honour of his Cousin's

name as a member; nor were they backward in conveying a similar hint

to Frank Harry, who immediately proposed his two friends, Mortimer and

Merry well; an example which was followed by Tom's proposing his Cousin.

[Illustration: page286 Road to a Fight]

Such respectable introductions could not fail to meet the approbation

of the Gentlemen present,--consequently they were unanimously elected

Knights of the Round Table, which was almost as quickly supplied by the

Waiter with a capacious bowl of punch, and the healths of the newmade

Members drank with three times three; when their attention was suddenly

drawn to a distant part of the room, where a sprightly Stripling, who

was seated by the swarthy Conjuror before mentioned, was singing the

following Song:

THE JOYS OF A MILL,

A TODDLE TO A FIGHT.

“Now's the time for milling, boys, since all the world's agog

for it,

Away to Copthorne, Moulsey Hurst, or Slipperton they go;

Or grave or gay, they post away, nay pawn their very togs

for it,

And determined to be up to all, go down to see the show:

Giddy pated, hearts elated, cash and courage all to view it,

Ev'ry one to learn a bit, and tell his neighbours how to do it;

E'en little Sprites in lily whites, are fibbing it and rushing it,

Your dashing Swells from Bagnigge Wells, are flooring it and

flushing it:

Oh! 'tis a sight so gay and so uproarious,

That all the world is up in arms, and ready for a fight.

The roads are so clogg'd, that they beggar all description now,

With lads and lasses, prim'd and grogg'd for bang-up fun and

glee;

Here's carts and gigs, and knowing prigs all ready to kick up a row,

And ev'ry one is anxious to obtain a place to see;

Here's a noted sprig of life, who sports his tits and clumner too,

And there is Cribb and Gully, Belcher, Oliver, and H armer too,

With Shelton, Bitton, Turner, Hales, and all the lads to go it well,

Who now and then, to please the Fancy, make opponents know it

well:

Oh! 'tis a sight, &c.

But now the fight's begun, and the Combatants are setting to,

Silence is aloud proclaim'd by voices base and shrill;

Facing, stopping---fibbing, dropping--claret tapping--betting too--

Reeling, rapping--physic napping, all to grace the mill;

Losing, winning--horse-laugh, grinning--mind you do not glance

away,

Or somebody may mill your mug, and of your nob in Chancery;

For nobs and bobs, and empty fobs, the like no tongue could ever

tell--

See, here's the heavy-handed Gas, and there's the mighty Non-

pareil:

Oh! 'tis a sight, &c.

Thus milling is the fashion grown, and ev'ry one a closer is;

With lessons from the lads of fist to turn out quite the thing;

True science may be learn'd where'er the fam'd Mendoza is,

And gallantry and bottom too from Scroggins, Martin, Spring;

For sparring now is all the rage in town, and country places

too,

And collar-bones and claret-mugs are often seen at races too;

While counter-hits, and give and take, as long as strength can

hold her seat,

Afford the best amusement in a bit of pugilistic treat:

Oh! 'tis a sight, &c.

While this song was singing, universal silence prevailed, but an uproar

of approbation followed, which lasted for some minutes, with a general

call of encore, which however soon subsided, and the company was again

restored to their former state of conversation; each party appearing

distinct, indulged in such observations and remarks as were most

suitable or agreeable to themselves.

Bob was highly pleased with this description of a milling match; and as

the Singer was sitting near the person who had excited a considerable

portion of his attention at intervals in watching his tricks, in some of

which great ingenuity was displayed, he asked his Cousin if he knew him.

“Know him,” replied Tom, “to be sure I do; that is no other than Bitton,

a well-known pugilist, who frequently exhibits at the Fives-Court; he is

a Jew, and employs his time in giving lessons.”

“Zounds!” said Mortimer, “he seems to have studied the art of

Legerdemain as well as the science of Milling.”

“He is an old customer here,” said a little Gentleman at the opposite

side of the table, drawing from his pocket a box of segars{1}--“Now,

Sir,” continued he, “if you wish for a treat,” addressing himself to

Tallyho, “allow me to select you one--there, Sir, is asgar like a

nosegay--I had it from a friend of mine who only arrived yesterday--you

don't often meet with such, I assure you.”

Bob accepted the offer, and was in the act of lighting it, when Bitton

approached toward their end of the room with some cards in his hand,

from which Bob began to anticipate he would shew some tricks upon them.

As soon as he came near the table, he had his eye upon the Hon. Tom

Dashall, to whom he introduced 'himself by the presentation of a card,

which announced his benefit for the next week at the Fives-Court, when

all the prime lads of the ring had promised to exhibit.

“Egad!” said Dashall, “it will be an excellent opportunity--what, will

you take a trip that way and see the mighty men of fist?”

“With all my heart,” said Tallyho.

“And mine too,” exclaimed Mortimer.

It was therefore quickly determined, and each of the party being

supplied with a ticket, Bitton canvassed the room for other customers,

after which he again retired to his seat.

“Come,” said a smartly dressed Gentleman in a white hat, “we have heard

a song from the other end of the room, I hope we shall be able to muster

one here.”

1 This gentleman, whose dress and appearance indicate

something of the Dandy, is a resident in Mark Lane, and

usually spends his evening at the Round Table, where he

appears to pride himself upon producing the finest segars

that can be procured, and generally affords some of his

friends an opportunity of proving them deserving the

recommendations with which he never fails to present them.

This proposition was received with applause, and, upon Tom's giving a

hint, Frank Harry was called upon--the glasses were filled, a toast was

given, and the bowl was dispatched for a replenish; he then sung

the following Song, accompanied with voice, manner, and action, well

calculated to rivet attention and obtain applause:

PIGGISH PROPENSITIES,

THE BUMPKIN IN TOWN.

“A Bumpkin to London one morning in Spring,

Hey derry, ho derry, fal de rai la,

Took a fat pig to market, his leg in a string,

Hey derry, ho derry, fal de rai la;

The clown drove him forward, while piggy, good lack!

Lik'd his old home so well, he still tried to run back--

(Spoken)--Coome, coome (said the Bumpkin to himself,) Lunnun is the

grand mart for every thing; there they have their Auction Marts, their

Coffee Marts, and their Linen Marts: and as they are fond of a tid-bit

of country pork, I see no reason why they should not have” a Pork and

Bacon Mart--so get on (pig grunts,) I am glad to hear you have a voice

on the subject, though it seems not quite in tune with my

Hey derry, ho derry, fal de ral la.

It chanc'd on the road they'd a dreadful disaster,

Hey derry, ho derry, fal de rai la;

The grunter ran back 'twixt the legs of his master,

Hey derry, ho derry, fal de rai la;

The Bumpkin he came to the ground in a crack,

And the pig, getting loose, he ran all the way back!

(Spoken)--Hallo, (said the clown, scrambling up again, and scratching

his broken head,) to be sure I have heard of sleight-of-hand,

hocus-pocus and sich like; but by gum this here be a new manouvre

called sleight of legs; however as no boanes be broken between us, I'll

endeavour to make use on 'em once more in following the game in view: so

here goes, with a

Hey derry, ho derry, &c.

He set off again with his pig in a rope,

Hey derry, ho derry, fal de rai la,

Reach'd London, and now for good sale 'gan to hope

Hey derry, ho derry, fal de rai la;

But the pig, being beat 'till his bones were quite sore.

Turning restive, rush'd in at a brandy-shop door.

(Spoken)--The genteeler and politer part of the world might feel a

little inclined to call this piggish behaviour; but certainly after a

long and fatiguing journey, nothing can be more refreshing than a _drap

of the cratur_; and deeming this the regular mart for the good stuff, in

he bolts, leaving his master to sing as long as he pleased--Hey derry,

he deny, &c.

Here three snuffy Tabbies he put to the rout,

Hey derry, ho derry, fal de rai lft,

With three drams to the quartern, that moment serv'd

out,

Hey derry, ho derry, fal de rai la;

The pig gave a grunt, and the clown gave a roar,

When the whole of the party lay flat on the floor!

(Spoken)--Yes, there they lay all of a lump; and a precious group there

was of them: The old women, well prun'd with snuff and twopenny, and

bang-up with gin and bitters--the fair ones squalled; the clown growled

like a bear with a broken head; the landlord, seeing all that could be

seen as they roll'd over each other, stared, like a stuck pig! while

this grand chorus of soft and sweet voices from the swinish multitude

was accompanied by the pig with his usual grunt, and a

Hey derry, ho derry, &o.

The pig soon arose, and the door open flew,

Hey derry, ho derry, fal de ral la,

When this scrambling group was expos'd to my view,

Hey deny, ho derry, fal de ral la;

He set off again, without waiting for Jack,

And not liking London, ran all the way back!

(Spoken)--The devil take the pig! (said the Bumpkin) he is more trouble

than enough. “The devil take you (said Miss Sukey Snuffle) for you are

the greatest hog of the two; I dare say, if the truth was known, you are

brothers.”--“I declare I never was so exposed in all my life (said Miss

Delia Doldrum.) There's my beautiful bloom petticoat, that never was

rumpled before in all my life--I'm quite shock'd!”--“Never mind, (said

the landlord) nobody cares about it; tho' I confess it was a shocking

affair.”--'I wish he and his pigs were in the horse-pond (continued she,

endeavouring to hide her blushes with her hand)--Oh my--oh my!'--“What?”

(said Boniface)--'Oh, my elbow! (squall'd out Miss Emilia Mumble) I am

sure I shall never get over it.'--“Oh yes you will (continued he) rise

again, cheer your spirits with another drop of old Tom, and you'll soon

be able to sing

Hey derry, ho derry, &c.

By mutual consent the old women all swore,

Hey derry, ho derry, fal de rai la,

That the clown was a brute, and his pig was a boar,

Hey derry, ho derry, fal de rai la;

He paid for their liquor, but grumbled, good lack,

Without money or pig to gang all the way back.

(Spoken)--By gum (said he to himself, as he turn'd from the door) if the

Lunneners likes country pork, country pork doant seem to like they; and

if this be the success I'm to expect in this mighty great town in search

of the Grand Mart, I'll come no more, for I thinks as how its all a

flax; therefore I'll make myself contented to set at home in my own

chimney corner in the country, and sing

Hey derry, ho derry, &c.

This song had attracted the attention of almost every one in the room;

there was a spirit and vivacity in the singer, combined with a power of

abruptly changing his voice, to give effect to the different passages,

and a knowledge of music as well as of character, which gave it an

irresistible charm; and the company, who had assembled round him, at the

close signified their approbation by a universal shout of applause.

All went on well--songs, toasts and sentiments--punch, puns and

witticisms, were handed about in abundance; in the mean time, the

room began to wear an appearance of thinness, many of the boxes were

completely deserted, and the Knights of the Bound Table were no

longer surrounded by their Esquires--still the joys of the bowl were

exhilarating, and the conversation agreeable, though at times a little

more in a strain of vociferation than had been manifested at the

entrance of our party. It was no time to ask questions as to the names

and occupations of the persons by whom he was surrounded; and Bob,

plainly perceiving Frank Harry was getting into Queer Street, very

prudently declined all interrogatories for the present, making, however,

a determination within himself to know more of the house and the

company.

Mortimer also discovered symptoms of lush-logic, for though he had an

inclination to keep up the chaff, his dictionary appeared to be new

modelled, and his lingo abridged by repeated clips at his mother tongue,

by which he afforded considerable food for laughter.

Perceiving this, Tallyho thought it prudent to give his Cousin a hint,

which was immediately taken, and the party broke up.~292~~

CHAPTER XIX

“O there are swilling wights in London town

Term'd jolly dogs--choice spirits--alias swine,

Who pour, in midnight revel, bumpers down,

Making their throats a thoroughfare for wine.

These spendthrifts, who life's pleasures thus outrun,

Dosing with head-aches till the afternoon,

Lose half men's regular estate of Sun,

By borrowing too largely of the Moon:

And being Bacchi plenus--full of wine--

Although they have a tolerable notion

Of aiming at progressive motion,

Tis not direct, 'tis rather serpentine.”

UPON leaving the house, it was quickly discovered that Mortimer was at

sea without a rudder or compass, but was still enabled to preserve the

true line of beauty, which is said to be in a flowing curve; Merry well

was magnanimous, Frank Harry moppy, and all of them rather muggy. Harry

was going Eastward, and the remainder of the party Westward; it was

half-past one in the morning--the weather had cleared up as their brains

had been getting foggy.

Tom proposed a rattler.

Frank Harry swore by the Bacchanalian divinity they might ride in

the rumble-tumble if they liked, but none of it for him, and began to

stammer out

How sweet in--the--wood-lands

Wi--ith ii--eet hound--and horn--

To awaken--shrill--[hiccup)--echo,

And taste the--(hiccup)--fresh morn.

During this time, having turned to the right on leaving the Woolpack,

instead of the left, they were pursuing their way down Gracechurch

Street, in a line with London Bridge, without discovering their mistake;

nor were ~293~~ they aware of the situation they were in till they

reached the Monument.

“Zounds!” said Tom, “we are all wrong here.”

“All right,” said Merrywell--“all right, my boys--go it, my kidwhys.”

Bob hearing his Cousin's exclamation, began to make enquiries.

“Never mind,” said Tom, “we shall get housed presently--I have it--I

know the shop--it is but seldom I get out of the way, so come along--I

dare say we shall see some more fun yet.”

Saying this, he led the way down Thames street and in a short time

introduced them to the celebrated house in Dark-House Lane, kept open

at all hours of the night for the accommodation of persons coming to

market, and going off by the Gravesend boats and packets early in the

morning.

On entering this house of nocturnal convenience, a wide field for

observation was immediately opened to the mind of Dashall: he was no

novice to the varieties of character generally to be found within its

walls; and he anticipated an opportunity of imparting considerable

information to his Cousin, though somewhat clogg'd by his companions;

being known however at the bar, he found no difficulty in providing them

with beds: which being accomplished,

“Now,” said Tom, “for a new scene in Real Life. Here we are situated at

Billingsgate, on the banks of the Thames; in another hour it will be all

alive--we will refresh ourselves with coffee, and then look around us;

but while it is preparing, we will take a survey of the interior--button

up--tie a silk handkerchief round your neck, and we may perhaps escape

suspicion of being mere lookers on; by which means we shall be enabled

to mingle with the customers in the tap-room, and no doubt you will see

some rum ones.”

They now entered the tap or general room, which exhibited an appearance

beyond the powers of description.

In one corner lay a Sailor fast asleep, having taken so much ballast on

board as to prevent the possibility of any longer attending to the log,

but with due precaution resting his head on a bundle which he intended

to take on board his ship with him in the morning, and apparently

well guarded by a female on each side; in another was a weather-beaten

Fisherman in a Guernsey frock and a thick ~294~~ woollen night-cap, who,

having just arrived with a cargo of fish, was toiling away time till

the commencement of the market with a pipe and a pint, by whose side was

seated a large Newfoundland dog, whose gravity of countenance formed an

excellent contrast with that of a man who was entertaining the Fisherman

with a history of his adventures through the day, and who in return was

allowed to participate in the repeatedly filled pint--a Waterman in

his coat and badge ready for a customer--and two women, each having a

shallow basket for the purpose of supplying themselves with fish at the

first market for the next day's sale.

'Going to Gravesend, Gentlemen?' enquired the Waterman, as Tom and Bob

took their seats near him.

“No,” was the reply.

“Beg pardon, Sir; thought as how you was going down, and mought want a

boat, that's all; hope no offence.”

“I vas down at the Frying Pan in Brick Lane yesterday, (said the

communicative adventurer;) Snivelling Bill and Carrotty Poll was there

in rum order--you know Carrotty? Poll? so Poll, (Good health to you) you

knows how gallows lushy she gets--veil, as I vas saying, she had had a

good day vith her fish, and bang she comes back to Bill--you knows she's

rather nutty upon Bill, and according to my thinking they manages things

pretty veil together, only you see as how she is too many for him: so,

vhen she comes back, b------tme if Bill vasn't a playing at skittles,

and hadn't sold a dab all day; howsomdever he was a vinning the lush,

so you know Bill didn't care--but, my eyes! how she did blow him up vhen

she com'd in and see'd him just a going to bowl and tip, she tipp'd him

a vollopper right across the snout vhat made the skittles dance again,

and bang goes the bowl at her sconce instead of the skittles: it vas

lucky for her it did not hit her, for if it had, I'll be d------d if

ever she'd a cried Buy my live flounders any more--he vas at play vith

Sam Stripe the tailor; so the flea-catcher he jumps in between 'em,

and being a piece-botcher, he thought he could be peace-maker, but

it voudn't do, tho' he jump'd about like a parch'd pea in a

frying-pan--Poll called him Stitch louse, bid him pick up his needles

and be off--Bill vanted to get at Poll, Poll vanted to get at Bill--and

between them the poor Tailor got more stripes upon his jacket than

there is colours in a harlequin's breeches at Bartlemy Fair--Here's

good health to you--it was a ~295~~ bodkin to a but of brandy poor Snip

didn't skip out of this here vorld into that 'are?”

“And how did they settle it?” enquired the Fisherman.

'I'll tell you all about it: I never see'd such a b------dy lark in all

my life; poor Sam is at all times as thin as a thread-paper, and being

but the ninth part of a man, he stood no chance between a man and

a voman--Bill vas bleeding at the konk like a half-killed hog, and

Carrotty Moll, full of fire and fury, vas defending herself vith her

fish-basket--Billy vas a snivelling, Poll a stoearing, and the poor

Tailor in a funk--thinks I to myself, this here vont never do--so up

I goes to Poll--Poll, says I------' To the devil I pitch you,' says

she--only you know I knows Poll veil enough--she tried to sneak it

over me, but she found as how I know'd better--Poll, says I, hold your

luff--give us no more patter about this here rum rig--I'll give cost

price for the fish, and you shall have the money; and while I was

bargaining with her, d------n me if Bill and the Tailor vasn't a milling

avay in good style, till Stripe's wife comes in, gives Snivelling Billy

a cross-buttock and bolted off vith her fancy, like as the song says,

The devil took the tailor

“Vith the broad cloth under his arm.”

I never laugh'd so in all my life; I thought I should------'

At this moment a nod from the Landlord informed Tom his coffee was

ready, when they were ushered into the parlour.

Bob, who had during the conversation in the other room, (which had

occasionally been interrupted by the snores of the sleepy Sailor, the

giggling of the Girls who appeared to have him in charge, and a growl

from the dog,) been particularly attentive to the narration of this

adventure, remarked that there was a peculiarity of dialect introduced,

which, to a person coming out of the country, would have been wholly

unintelligible.

“Yes,” replied Tom, “almost every trade and every calling of which the

numerous inhabitants of this overgrown town is composed, has a language

of its own, differing as widely from each other as those of provincials.

Nor is this less observable in high life, where every one seems at times

to aim at rendering himself conspicuous for some extraordinary mode of

expression. But come, I ~296~~ perceive the morning is shedding its

rays upon us, and we shall be able to take a survey of the more general

visitors to this place of extensive utility and resort--already you may

hear the rumbling of carts in Thames Street, and the shrill voice of the

Fishwives, who are preparing for a day's work, which they will nearly

finish before two-thirds of the population leave their pillows. This

market, which is principally supplied by fishing smacks and boats coming

from the sea up the river Thames, and partly by land carriage from every

distance within the limits of England, and part of Wales, is open every

morning at day-light, and supplies the retailers for some miles round

the Metropolis. The regular shop-keepers come here in carts, to purchase

of what is called the Fish Salesman, who stands as it were between the

Fisherman who brings his cargo to market and the Retailer; but there are

innumerable hawkers of fish through the streets, who come and purchase

for themselves at first hand, particularly of mackarel, herrings,

sprats, lobsters, shrimps, flounders, soles, &c. and also of cod

and salmon when in season, and at a moderate rate, composing an

heterogeneous group of persons and characters, not easily to be met with

elsewhere.” “Then,” said Bob, “there is a certainty of high and

exalted entertainment;--I should suppose the supply of fish is very

considerable.”

“The quantity of fish consumed,” replied Tom, “in London is

comparatively small, fish being excessively dear in general: and this

is perhaps the most culpable defect in the supply of the capital,

considering that the rivers of Great Britain and the seas round her

coast teem with that food.--There are on an average about 2500 cargoes

of fish, of 40 tons each, brought to Billingsgate, and about 20,000 tons

by land carriage, making a total of about 120,000 tons; and the street

venders form a sample of low life in all its situations.

“--------In such indexes, although small

To their subsequent volumes, there is seen

The baby figure of the giant mass

Of things to come at large.”

And the language you have already heard forms a part of what may be

termed Cockneyism.”

“Cockneyism,” said Bob, with an inquisitiveness in his countenance.

~297~~ “Yes,” continued Tom, “Cockney is universally known to be the

contemptuous appellation given to an uneducated native of London,

brought into life within the sound of Bow bell--pert and conceited,

yet truly ignorant, they generally discover themselves by their mode of

speech, notwithstanding they have frequent opportunities of hearing the

best language; the cause, I apprehend, is a carelessness of every thing

but the accumulation of money, which is considered so important with

them--that they seem at all times to be in eager pursuit of it.

“O Plutus, god of gold! thine aid impart,

Teach me to catch the money-catching art;

Or, sly Mercurius! pilfering god of old,

Thy lesser mysteries at least unfold.”

You will hear these gentry frequently deliver themselves in something

like the following manner:

“My eyes, Jim, vat slippy valking 'tis this here morning--I should ave

fell'd right down if so be as how I adn't cotch'd ould of a postis--vere

does you thinks I ave been? vy all the vay to Vapping Vail, an a top o

Tower Hill--I seed a voman pillar'd--such scrouging and squeeging, and

peltin vith heggs--ow funny!

“A female Fruit-seller will say to a Lady Oyster-dealer--Law, my dear

Mrs. Melton, how ar you this cowld morning, Mem.?--the streets vil be

nice and dirty--vel, for my part, I always likes dry vether--do your

usband vork at Foxall still?--I likes to warm my cowld nose vith a

pinch of your snuff--ow wery obliging--But come, I hear the bustle of

Billingsgate, and you shall have a peep at the people. By this time they

are all alive.”

Bob laughed at his Cousin's specimens of cockney language, and they

sallied forth, to make further observations.

It was now a fine morning, the Sun shone with resplendent lustre upon

all around them, and danced in playful dimples on the sportive Thames;

there was however but little opportunity at the moment for them to

contemplate subjects of this sort, their eyes and ears being wholly

attracted by the passing and repassing of the persons desirous to sell

or supply themselves with fish; Thames Street was almost blocked up with

carts, and the hallooing and bawling of the different drivers, loading

or unloading, formed an occasional symphony to the ~298~~ continual hum

of those who were moving in all directions to and from the market.

“By yer leaf” said a sturdy built fellow, sweating under a load of fish

which appeared to press him almost down--“what the devil do you stand in

the way for?”

Bob, in stepping on one side to make room for this man to pass,

unfortunately trod upon the toe of an Hibernian lady, who was bearing

away a large basket of shrimps alive, and at the same time gave her arm

so forcible a jerk with his elbow, as disengaged her hand from the load;

by which means the whole cargo was overturned smack into the bosom of a

smartly dressed youth in white ducks, who was conducting some Ladies

on board one of the Gravesend boats. The confusion that followed is

scarcely to be conceived--the agitation of Talt who at hearing the

vociferated lamentations of the Irish woman--the spluttering of the

disconcerted Dandy--the declaration of the owner of the shrimps, “that

so help her God he should pay for her property”--the loud laughter of

those around them, who appeared to enjoy the embarrassment of the whole

party--and the shrimps hopping and jumping about amid the dirt and slush

of the pavement, while the Ladies were hunting those which had fallen

into the bosom of their conductor--formed a scene altogether, which,

in spite of the confusion of his Cousin, almost convulsed the Hon. Tom

Dashall with laughter, and which served but to increase the rancour of

the owner of the shrimps, and the poor toe-suffering Irishwoman, the

execrations of the Dandy Gentleman and his Ladies, and the miseries of

poor Bob; to escape from which, he gave the Hibernian and her employer

enough to purchase plaster for the one, and a fresh cargo for the other,

and seizing Tom by the arm, dragged him away from the scene of his

misfortunes in fishery.

[Illustration: page298 Real Life at Billingsgate]

Their progress however was presently impeded by a sudden scream, which

appeared to come from a female, and .drew together almost all the people

on the spot, it seemed as if it had been a preconcerted signal for a

general muster, and it was quickly ascertained that fisty-cuffs were the

order of the day, by the vociferations of the spectators, and the loud

acclamations of “Go it, Poll--pitch it into her--mill her snitcher--veil

done, Sail--all pluck--game to the back-bone--peppermint her

upper-story, and grapple her knowledge-box--D------n my eyes, but that

vas a good one, it ~299~~ has altered her weather-cock and shifted her

wind--There's your dairies--stand out of the way--Upon my sole you have

overturned all my flounders--D------n you and your dabbs too.”

Tom and Bob took up a favourable position for observation at the corner

of a fish-stall, where they could quietly witness the combatants, and

take a general survey of the proceedings.

“Now,” said Tom, “here is a lark for you, a female fight.”

“Fine salmon, or cod, Gentlemen,” said an elderly woman--“I wish I could

tempt you to be customers.”

“Well,” said Bob, “they are at it in good earnest.”

“O yes,” said the woman, “we always have it in real earnest, no sham--I

wish Poll may sarve her out, for Sall is a d------d saucy b------h at

all times.”

“And what have they quarrelled about?” inquired Dashall.

“Jealousy, Sir, nothing else; that there man in the night-cap, with the

red ruff round his neck, is Sail's fancy man, and he sometimes lets

her have a cargo of fish for services done and performed, you

understand--and so Sail she comes down this morning, and she finds Poll

having a phililoo with him, that's all; but I wish they would go and

have it out somewhere else, for it spoils all business--Nance, go and

get us a quartern of Jacky, that I may ax these Gentlemen to drink, for

its a cold morning, and perhaps they are not used to be up so early.”

Tom saw the drift of this in a moment, and taking the hint, supplied the

needful to Nance, who was dispatched for the heart-cheering beverage,

which they could perceive was in high reputation by those around them.

The effluvia of the fish, the fumes of tobacco, and the reviving

scent of the gin-bottle, rendered their olfactory salutations truly

delightful. Nor could they escape the Fish-wife without becoming

participators in the half pint of blue ruin.

“Come,” said Tom, “we will now stroll a little further, and take a

survey of the street; but first we will give a look here.

“This,” said he, “is the Custom House, a splendid building recently

erected, in consequence of the old one being demolished by fire in

1814.” ~300~~ “It is, indeed,” replied Bob, admiring the south front,

which is executed in Portland stone.

“Do you observe,” continued Tom, “the central compartment, which

comprises what is called the Long Room, and which we will visit

presently, is quite plain, except the attic, which is elegantly

ornamented?--that alto-relievo contains allegorical representations of

the arts and sciences, as connected with and promoting the commerce

and industry of the nation--that to the west, a representation of

the costume and character of the various nations with whom we hold

intercourse in our commercial relations--in the centre, under the large

massive dial-plate, are inscribed in large bronze letters the names of

the founders and the date of its erection--the figures which support

the dial in a recumbent position are emblematical of industry and

plenty--that bold projection in the centre, gives a suitable character

to the King's warehouse, and forms an appropriate support to the

imperial arms upheld by the attributes of Ocean and Commerce.”

Bob gazed with admiration and delight on this truly admirable and

extensive pile of national architecture; the gentle breeze from the

river, the occasional dash of the oar, and the activity which appeared

on board the different vessels; together with the view of London Bridge

on one side, over which he could perceive pedestrians and vehicles

of various kinds passing and repassing, and the Tower on the other,

conspired to heighten and give a most imposing effect to the scene.

“The designs,” said Tallyho, “are truly creditable to the taste and

science of the architect.”

“And this Quay in front, is intended to be enlarged by filling up a part

of the river; besides which, a new wall and quay are to be formed from

the Tower to Billingsgate, and numerous other improvements are projected

in the contiguous streets and lanes.” “Not before it is necessary,” was

the reply. “It would be impossible,” continued Dashall, “to visit all

the apartments this building contains; we will however have a look

at the Long Room, and as we proceed I will endeavour to give you some

further information. We are now entering the East wing, which is a

counterpart of that on the West, having like this a grand stair-case

with a double flight of steps, which conduct to a lobby at each end

of the long room, lighted by ~301~~ these vertical lantern-lights, the

ceilings being perforated in square compartments, and glazed. These

lobbies serve to check the great draughts of air which would otherwise

flow through the room if it opened directly from the stair-case.”

They now entered the Long Room, the imposing appearance of which had its

due effect upon Tallyho.

“Bless me!” cried he in a state of ecstasy, “this is a room to boast of

indeed.”

“Yes,” replied his Cousin, “there is not such another room in Europe; it

is 190 feet long by 66 wide, and proportionably high, divided into

three compartments by these eight massive pillars, from which, as you

perceive, spring the three domes, which are so richly ornamented, and

ventilated through the centre of each.”

“And all of stone?” inquired Bob.

“Not exactly so,” was the reply; “the floor (excepting the situation

of the officers and clerks) is of stone, but the walls and ceilings are

drawn out and tinted in imitation.”

“And what are these antique pedestals for, merely ornaments?”

Tom was pleased at this inquiry, and with a smile of satisfaction

replied--“No, these pedestals do double duty, and are something like

what the rural poet, Goldsmith, describes in his _Deserted Village_--

“The chest contriv'd a double debt to pay,

A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day.”

These are ornamental during the summer, but useful in the winter; they

contain fire-places completely hid from view.”

“Fire-places,” re-echoed Bob.

“Yes,” continued his Cousin; “the smoke, descending, passes through the

piers on each side, and by their means a sufficient warmth is at all

times kept up in the room.”

“That is a capital contrivance,” said Tallyho.

“Then, to prevent the possibility of sustaining any serious injury from

fire, on the ground, one and two pair stories, the communication is cut

off by means of iron doors, which run on wheels in chase in the centre

of the walls, and are moved backward and forward by a windlass;

which doors are closed every evening, and would effectually prevent

a communication beyond their boundaries. Fire-proof rooms also, as

repositories for valuable books ~302~~ and papers, are provided on each

floor, where the important documents of the establishment are deposited

every evening, and removed in trunks to the respective offices. There

are in all 121 rooms devoted to various offices. This however is the

principal: here the general business is transacted, particularly for all

foreign concerns, both inwards and outwards. The Ship Master first makes

the report of the cargo here; the entries of which, either for payment

of duties, warehousing, or subsequent exportation, are all passed with

the respective officers in this room. The business of the customs is

managed by nine Commissioners, whose jurisdiction extends over all

parts of England. We will now pass out at the west wing, adjourn to yon

Tavern, refresh and refit, and after which a further walk.”

“With all my heart,” said Tallyho.

“What ho, Master B------,” said Dashall, saluting the Landlord as he

entered the Tavern--“How does the world wag with you?--send us some soda

water--the newspaper--let somebody clean our boots--give us pen, ink and

paper, and prepare us some breakfast with all speed, but no fish, mind

that.”

The Landlord bowed assent to his honourable customer; and by the time

they were ready, their orders were complied with.

“Pray,” inquired Dashall of the obliging Landlord, who came in to ask if

they were supplied with all they wished for, “did you ever recover any

thing from that dashing Blade that so obligingly ordered his dinner

here?”

“Never got a halfpenny--no no, he was not one of those sort of

gentry--nor do I ever wish to see such again in my house.”

This was uttered in a tone of discontent, which evidently shewed he had

no relish for the conversation.

Dashall could not refrain from laughter; upon perceiving which, the

Landlord withdrew with a loud slam of the door, and left his customers

to enjoy their mirth.

“What are you laughing at?” cried Bob.

“Why,” continued his Cousin,

“There was, as fame reports, in days of yore,

At least some fifty years ago, or more,

A pleasant wight on town----”

~303~~ And there are many pleasant fellows now to be met with; but you

shall have the tale as I had it: This house has been celebrated for

furnishing excellent dinners, and the cookery of fish in particular;

consequently it has been the resort of the Bucks, the Bloods, and the

dashing Swells of the town, and I myself have been well entertained

here. It will therefore not be wondered at that its accommodations

should attract the notice of a Sharper whose name and character were

well known, but who was in person a total stranger to the unsuspecting

Landlord, whom however he did not fail to visit.

Calling one afternoon for the purpose of seeing how the land lay, in

high twig, and fashionably dressed, he was supplied with a bottle of

sherry, and requested the landlord to take a part with him--praised the

wine, talked of the celebrity of his house for fish, and gave an order

for a dinner for sixteen friends during the following week. The bait was

swallowed,

“For a little flattery is sometimes well.”

'But are your wines of the first quality? (inquired the visitor;) for

good eating, you know, deserves good drinking, and without that we shall

be like fishes out of water.'--' Oh, Sir, no man in London can supply

you better than myself (was the reply;) but, if you please, you shall

select which you may like best, my stock is extensive and good.' He was

consequently invited into the cellar, and tasted from several binns,

particularly marking what he chose to conceive the best. Upon returning

to the parlour again--' Bless me, (cried he) I have had my pocket pick'd

this morning, and lost my handkerchief--can you oblige me with the loan

of one for present use? and I will send it back by one of my servants.'

'Certainly, Sir,' was the reply; and the best pocket-handkerchief was

quickly produced, with another bottle of wine, the flavour of which he

had approved while below. He then wrote a letter, which he said must be

dispatched immediately by a Ticket-porter to Albemarle Street, where

he must wait for an answer. This being done, lie desired a coach to be

called--asked the Landlord if he had any silver he could accommodate him

with, as he had occasion to go a little further, but would soon return.

This being complied with, by the Landlord giving him twenty shillings

with the expectation of receiving a ~304~~ pound note in return,

he threw himself into the coach, wished his accommodating Host good

afternoon, promised to return in less than an hour, but has never shewn

his face here since. Poor B------don't like to hear the circumstance

mentioned.”

“Zounds!” said Tallyho, “somebody was green upon the occasion; I thought

people in London were more guarded, and not so easily to be done. And

who did he prove to be after all?”

“No other than the well-known Major Semple, whose depredations of this

sort upon the public rendered him so notorious.”

Having finished their repast, Tom was for a move; and they took their

way along Thames Street in the direction for Tower Hill.

CHAPTER XX

“This life is all chequer'd with pleasures and woes

That chase one another like waves of the deep,

Each billow, as brightly or darkly it flows,

Reflecting our eyes as they sparkle or weep;

So closely our whims on our miseries tread,

That the laugh is awak'd ere the tear can be dried;

And as fast as the rain-drop of pity is shed,

The goose-plumage of folly can turn it aside;

But, pledge me the cup! if existence can cloy

With hearts ever light and heads ever wise,

Be ours the light grief that is sister to joy,

And the short brilliant folly that flashes and dies.”

“THE building before us,” said Tom, “is the Tower of London, which was

formerly a palace inhabited by the various Sovereigns of this country

till the reign of Queen Elizabeth. Fitzstephens says, it was originally

built by Julius Cæsar; but I believe there is no proof of the truth

of this assertion, except that one of the towers is to this day called

Cæsar's Tower.”

“It seems a place of great security,” said Bob.

“Yes--William the Conqueror erected a fortress on part of its present

site, to overawe the inhabitants of London on his gaining possession

of the City, and about twelve years afterwards, in 1078, he erected a

larger building than the first, either on the site of the former or near

it. This building, repaired or rebuilt by succeeding Princes, is that

which is now called the White Tower.”

“It appears altogether to be a very extensive building,” said Tallyho;

“and what have we here? (turning his eyes to the left)--the modern style

of those form a curious contrast to that we are now viewing.”

“That is called Trinity Square, and the beautiful edifice in the

centre is the Trinity House; it is a new building, of stone, having

the advantage of rising ground for its site, and of a fine area in the

front.” ~306~~ “The Trinity House,” reiterated Bob, “some ecclesiastical

establishment, I presume, from its title?”

“There you are wrong,” continued Dashall; “it is a Corporation, which

was founded in the year 1515 by Henry VIII. and consists of a Master,

four Wardens, eighteen Elder Brothers, in whom is vested the direction

of the Company, and an indefinite number of younger Brothers; for

any sea-faring man may be admitted into the Society by that name, but

without any part of the controul of its concerns. The elder Brethren are

usually selected from the most experienced commanders in the navy and

the merchants' service, with a few principal persons of his Majesty's

Government.”

“But what, in the name of wonder,” inquired Bob, “have Sailors to do

with the Trinity?”

“As much as other persons,” was the reply; “if it is the anchor of hope,

as we are taught, they have as great a right to rely upon it as any

body else--besides, the names given to houses and places in London have

nothing to do with their occupations or situations, any more than

the common language of life has to do with nature; else why have we a

Waterloo House in the vicinity of St. Giles's for the sale of threads,

laces, and tapes--a Fleet for the confinement of prisoners, or the

King's Bench devoted to the same purposes, unless it is,

“That when we have no chairs at home,

The King (God bless him) grants us then a bench.”

Though London contains a round of delights and conveniences scarcely to

be equalled, it is at the same time a combination of incongruities as

difficult to be conceived. The denomination of this House has therefore

nothing to do with the business to which it is devoted. The body which

transacts its concerns is called The Master, Wardens and Assistants, of

the Guild, or Fraternity of the most glorious and undivided Trinity,

and of St. Clement, in the parish of Deptford, Stroud, in the county of

Kent.”

“An admirable illustration of your assertion,” replied Bob; “and

pray may I be allowed, without appearing romantic or unnecessarily

inquisitive, to ask what are the objects of the Institution?”

“Certainly. The use of this Corporation is to superintend the general

interests of the British shipping, military and commercial. To this end,

the powers of the ~307~~ Corporation are very extensive; the principal

of which are, to examine the children educated in mathematics in

Christ's Hospital--examine the masters of the King's ships--appoint

pilots for the Thames--erect light-houses and sea-marks--grant licenses

to poor seamen, not free of the City, to row on the Thames--and

superintend the deepening and cleansing of the river; they have power

to receive donations for charitable purposes, and annually relieve great

numbers of poor seamen and seamen's widows and orphans; and as they

alone supply outward-bound ships with ballast, on notice of any shoal or

obstruction arising in the river Thames, they immediately direct their

men and lighters to work on it till it is removed. The profits arising

to the Corporation by this useful regulation is very considerable.”

During this conversation they had continued to walk towards the Trinity

House, and were now close to it.

“Come,” continued Dashall, “the interior is worth seeing: there are some

fine paintings in it, and the fitting up is altogether of an elegant

description.”

Upon making application at the door, and the customary payment of a

shilling each, they were admitted. The appearance of the Hall, which is

grand, though light and elegant, particularly attracted the attention

of Tallyho. The double stair-case, which leads to the court-room, was an

object of peculiar delight. The beautiful model of the Royal William in

the Secretary's Office was much admired; but the Court-room was

abundant in gratification. Here they were ushered into a spacious

apartment,*particularly elegant, being unincumbered; the ceiling

finished in a superior style, and decorated with paintings of the late

King and Queen--James the Second--Lord Sandwich--Lord Howe, and Mr.

Pitt. Here Bob wandered from portrait to portrait, examining the

features and character of each, and admiring the skill and ability of

the artists. At the upper end of the room he was additionally pleased

to find a large painting containing a group of about twenty-four of

the elder Brethren, representing them at full length, attended by their

Secretary, the late Mr. Court. Many of the persons being well remembered

by Dashall, were pointed out by him to his Cousin, and brought to his

recollection names deservedly celebrated, though now no more. This

picture was the gift of the Merchant Brethren in 1794.

Tallyho was much delighted with his survey of this truly elegant

building, and the luminous account given by ~308~~ his Cousin of

the various persons whose portraits met his eye, or whose names and

characters, connected with the establishment, had become celebrated for

scientific research or indefatigable industry.

“It will occupy too much time this morning,” said Dashall, “to visit

the interior of the Tower, as I have dispatched a Ticket-porter to

Piccadilly, ordering my curricle to be at Tom's Coffee-house at one; we

will therefore defer that pleasure to the next opportunity of being this

way. We will however take a look at the Bank and the Exchange, then a

trundle into the fresh air for an hour, and return home to dinner; so

come along, but we will vary our walk by taking another road back.”

With this intention, they now crossed Tower Hill, and turned to the

left, along the Minories.

“Here is a place,” said Dashall, “well known, and no doubt you have

often heard of--Sparrow Corner and Rosemary Lane are better known by

the appellation of Rag Fair. It is a general mart for the sale of

second-hand clothes, and many a well-looking man in London is indebted

to his occasional rambles in this quarter for his appearance. The

business of this place is conducted with great regularity, and the

dealers and collectors of old clothes meet at a certain hour of the

afternoon to make sales and exchanges, so that it is managed almost upon

the same plan as the Royal Exchange, only that the dealers here come

loaded with their goods, which must undergo inspection before sales can

be effected: while the Merchant carries with him merely a sample, or

directs his Purchaser to the warehouse where his cargo is deposited. The

principal inhabitants of this place are Jews, and they obtain supplies

from the numerous itinerant collectors from all quarters of London and

its suburbs, whom you must have observed parading the streets from the

earliest hour of the morning, crying _Ould clothes--Clothes sale_.”

“It surely can hardly be a trade worth following,” said Talltho.

“There are many hundreds daily wandering the streets, however,” replied

Tom, “in pursuit of cast-off apparel, rags, and metals of different

sorts, or at least pretend so. The Jews are altogether a set of traders.

I do not mean to confine my observations to them only, because there

are persons of other sects employed in the same kind of business; and

perhaps a more dangerous set of cheats could ~309~~ scarcely be pointed

at, as their chief business really is to prowl about the houses and

stables of people of rank and fortune, in order to hold out temptations

to their servants, to pilfer and steal small articles not likely to be

missed, which these fellows are willing to purchase at about one-third

of their real value. It is supposed that upwards of 15,000 of these

depraved itinerants among the Jews are daily employed in journeys of

this kind; by which means, through the medium of base money and other

fraudulent dealings, many of them acquire property with which they open

shops, and then become receivers of stolen property; the losses thus

sustained by the public being almost incalculable--

“For wid coot gould rings of copper gilt--'tis so he gets his

bread,

Wit his sealing-vax of brick-dust, and his pencils without lead.”

It is estimated that there are from fifteen to twenty thousand Jews in

the Metropolis, and about five or six thousand more stationed in the

great provincial and seaport towns. In London they have six Synagogues,

and in the country places there are at least twenty more. Most of the

lower classes of those distinguished by name of German or Dutch Jews,

live principally by their wits, and establish a system of mischievous

intercourse all over the country, the better to enable them to carry

on then-fraudulent designs in every way. The pliability of their

consciences is truly wonderful--

“For they never stick at trifles, if there's monies in the way.”

Nay, I remember the time when they used to perambulate our streets

openly, professing to purchase base coin, by bawling--“Any bad shilling,

any bad shilling.” The interference of the Police however has prevented

the calling, though perhaps it is impossible to prevent a continuance

of the practice any more than they can that of utterance. These men

hesitate not to purchase stolen property, or metals of various kinds, as

well as other articles pilfered from the Dock-yards, and stolen in

the provincial towns, which are brought to the Metropolis to elude

detection, and vice versa; in some cases there are contrivances that

the buyer and seller shall not even see each other, in order that no

advantage may be taken by giving information as to the parties.” ~310~~

“Upon my life, the contrivances of London are almost incomprehensible,”

said Bob, “and might deter many from venturing into it; but this

surprises me beyond any thing.”

“It is however too lamentably true,” continued Tom; “for these people,

educated in idleness from the earliest infancy, acquire every debauched

and vicious principle which can fit them for the most complicated arts

of fraud and deception, to which they seldom fail to add the crime of

perjury, whenever it can be useful to shield themselves or their friends

from the punishment of the law. Totally without moral education, and

very seldom trained to any trade or occupation by which they can earn an

honest livelihood by manual labour--their youths excluded from becoming

apprentices, and their females from engaging themselves generally

as servants, on account of the superstitious adherence to the mere

ceremonial of their persuasion, as it respects meat not killed by

Jews--nothing can exceed their melancholy condition, both as it regards

themselves and society. Thus excluded from the resources which other

classes of the community possess, they seem to have no alternative

but to resort to those tricks and devices which ingenuity suggests,

to enable persons without an honest means of subsistence to live in

idleness.

“The richer Jews are in the practice of lending small sums to the poorer

classes of their community, in order that they may support themselves by

a species of petty traffic; but even this system contributes in no

small degree to the commission of crimes, since, in order to render

it productive to an extent equal to the wants of families who do not

acquire any material aid by manual labour, they are induced to resort to

unlawful means of increasing it, by which they become public nuisances.

From the orange-boy and the retailer of seals, razors, glass and other

wares, in the public streets, or the collector of

“Old rags, old jags, old bonnets, old bags,”

to the shop-keeper, dealer in wearing apparel, or in silver and gold,

the same principles of conduct too generally prevail.

“The itinerants utter base money, to enable them by selling cheap, to

dispose of their goods; while those who are stationary, with very few

exceptions, receive and purchase at an under price whatever is brought

them, ~311~~ without asking questions; and yet most of their concerns

are managed with so much art, that we seldom hear of a Jew being hanged;

and it is also a fact, that during the holidays (of which they have many

in the course of a year,) or at one of their weddings, you may see

the barrow-woman of yesterday decked out in gay and gaudy attire of an

expensive nature.”

By this time they had reached the top of the minories, and were turning

down Houndsditch. “We are now,” said Dashall, “close to another place

chiefly inhabited by Jews, called Duke's Place, where they have a very

elegant Synagogue, which has been visited by Royalty, the present King

having, during his Regency, honoured them with a visit, through the

introduction of the late Mr. Goldsmid. If it should be a holiday, we

will be present at the religious ceremonies of the morning.” With this

they entered Duke's Place, and were soon within the walls of this Temple

of Judaism. In taking a view of it, Bob was much gratified with its

splendid decorations, and without being acquainted with their forms, had

_doffd his castor_,{1} but was presently informed by his Cousin that he

must keep his hat on. The readers appeared to him to be singers; but the

whole of the service being Hebrew, it was of little consequence to him,

whether read or sung. He perceived, during the performances of these

prayers, which were every now and then joined in by almost every

one present, that many of the congregation appeared to be in close

conversation, which, however, was taken no notice of by the persons

officiating. He was well pleased with the singing of a youth and the

accompaniment of a gentleman in a cock'd hat; for although he could not

discover that he actually produced words, he produced sounds in many

instances bearing a strong similarity to those of a bassoon. The

venerable appearance and devotion of the High Priest, who was habited in

a robe of white, also attracted his attention; while the frequent bursts

of the congregation, joining in the exercises of the morning, in some

instances almost provoked his risibility.

“The religious ceremonies of these people,” said Tom, as they left the

synagogue, “though somewhat imposing as to form and appearance, do not

seem to be strongly interesting, for many of them are engaged during the

whole of the service in some species of traffic; buying and

1 Doff'd his castor--Taken off his hat.

~312~~ selling, or estimating the value of goods for sale. They are such

determined merchants and dealers, that they cannot forget business even

in the house of prayer. We have two sets of them. This is the Dutch

Synagogue; but the most ancient is that of the Portuguese, having been

established in England ever since the Usurpation. The members of it

being mostly wealthy, are extremely attentive to their poor, among whom

there is said not to be a single beggar or itinerant; while the Dutch or

German. Jews get no education at all: even the most affluent of them are

said to be generally unable either to read or write the language of the

country that gave them birth. They confine themselves to a bastard or

vulgar Hebrew, which has little analogy to the original. They observe

the particular ritual of the German Synagogue, and also include the

Polish, Russian, and Turkish Jews established in London. With the

exception of a few wealthy individuals, and as many families who are in

trade on the Royal Exchange, they are in general a very indigent class

of people. Their community being too poor to afford them adequate

relief, they have resorted to the expedient of lending them small sums

of money at interest, to trade upon, which is required to be repaid

monthly or weekly, as the case may be, otherwise they forfeit all claim

to this aid.

“The Portuguese Jews are generally opulent and respectable, and hold

no community with the others. They use a different liturgy, and their

language is even different. They never intermarry with the Jews of the

Dutch Synagogue. They pride themselves on their ancestry, and give their

children the best education which can be obtained where they reside. The

Brokers upon the Exchange, of the Jewish persuasion, are all or chiefly

of the Portuguese Synagogue. Their number is limited to twelve by Act of

Parliament, and they pay 1000 guineas each for this privilege.”

They had now reached the end of Houndsditch, when, passing through

Bishopsgate Church Yard and Broad Street, they were soon at the Bank.

“This building,” said Dashall, “covers an extent of several acres of

ground, and is completely isolated.”

“Its exterior,” replied Bob, “is not unsuited to the nature of

the establishment, as it certainly conveys an idea of strength and

security.”

~315~~ “That's true,” continued Tom; “but you may observe a want of

uniformity of design and proportion, arising from its having been

erected piece-meal, at different periods, and according to different

plans, by several architects. This is the principal entrance; and

opposite to it is the shortest street in the Metropolis, called Bank

Street; it contains but one house. Now we will take a survey of the

interior.”

They entered the Hall, where Tallyho was much pleased to be instructed

as to the methodical way they have of examining notes for a re-issuing

or exchanging into coin.

“Here,” said Dashall, “are the Drawing-offices for public and private

accounts. This room is seventy-nine feet long by forty; and, at the

further end, you observe a very fine piece of sculpture: that is a

marble Statue of King William III. the founder of the Bank. Thi national

establishment was first incorporated by act of Parliament in 1694. The

projector of the scheme was a Mr. James Paterson, a native of

Scotland; and the direction of its concerns is vested in a Governor,

Deputy-Governor, and twenty-four Directors, elected annually at a

general Court of the Proprietors. Thirteen of the Directors, with the

Governor, form a Court for the transaction of business. The Bank is open

every day from nine in the morning till five in the afternoon, holidays

excepted. It is like a little town. The Clerks at present are about

1000 in number, but a reduction is intended. The Rotunda is the most

interesting apartment--we will go and have a look at the Money-dealers.

“Here,” continued he, as they entered the Rotunda, and mingled among

the various persons and sounds that are so well known in that seat

of traffic, “from the hours of eleven to three a crowd of eager

Money-dealers assemble, and avidity of gain displays itself in

ever-varying shapes, at times truly ludicrous to the disinterested

observer. You will presently perceive that the justling and crowding

of the Jobbers to catch a bargain, frequently exceed in disorder the

scrambling at the doors of our theatres for an early admission: and sa

loud and clamorous at times are the mingled noises of the buyers and

sellers, that all distinction of sound is lost in a general uproar.”

Of this description, Tallyho had an absolute proof in ~314~~ a few

minutes, for the mingling variety of voices appeared to leave no

space in time for distinguishing either the sense or the sound of the

individual speakers; though it was evident that, notwithstanding the

continual hubbub, there was a perfect understanding effected

between parties for the sale and transfer of Stock, according to the

stipulations bargained for.

“Ha, Mr. M------,” said the Hon. Tom Dashall, “how do you do?”

“Happy to say well, Sir, thank you,” was the reply. “Any

commands?--markets are pretty brisk this morning, and we are all alive.”

“Pray,” said Tallyho, “who is that extraordinary looking Lady with such

red lips and cheeks, beneath the garb of sadness?”

“A constant visitor here,” replied Mr. M. “I may say a day scarcely

passes without her being present.”

“She has a curious appearance,” said Bob; “her dress is all black

from head to foot, and yet her cheeks disclose the ruddy glow of

uninterrupted health. Is it that her looks belie her garb, or that her

garb belies her looks?”

“Hush,” said Mr. M. “let her pass, and I will give you some information

relative to her, which, if it does not gratify you, will at least

satisfy some of your inquiries. I am half inclined to believe that all

is not right in the seat of government with her, (pointing his finger to

his head;) and she is therefore rather deserving of pity than an object

of censure or ridicule; though I have reason to believe she frequently

meets with attacks of the latter, when in search of the sympathy and

benefit to be derived from a proper exercise of the former. Her name is

Miss W------. Her father was formerly a two-penny postman, who resided

at Rockingham Row, Walworth, and was himself somewhat eccentric in his

dress and manners, and it was not at all unusual to meet him in

the morning in the garb of his office, though decidedly against his

inclination, and to see him on 'Change during 'Change hours, in silk

stockings, and in every other way dressed as a Merchant, attending

there according to custom and practice; and he managed, by some means

or other, to keep up a character of respectability, and to give an

accomplished education to the younger branches of this family; so that

this lady, though unfortunate in her present circumstances, has been

well brought up, and ~315~~ mingled in polished society; and, if

you were to enter into conversation with her now, you would find

her intelligent in the selection of her words and the combination of

sentences, to explain to you the most improbable events, and the most

unheard of claims that she has upon all the Governments in the known

world. This, however, would be done with good temper, unless any thing

like an insulting observation should be conceived, or intended to be

conveyed.”

“And, pray, what is supposed to be the cause of her present manners and

appearance?” inquired Bob.

“It is principally attributed,” replied Mr M. “to the circumstance of

losing a beloved brother, who she now continually declares is only kept

from her by the persons who daily visit the Rotunda, with a view

to prevent the recovery of the property she lays claim to, and the

particulars of which she generally carries in her pocket. That brother

however suffered the penalty of the law for a forgery;{1} but this she

cannot be induced to believe.

1 The lamentable effusion of blood which has taken place

within the last twenty years, in consequence of forgeries on

the Bank of England, has already excited a very considerable

portion of public interest and indignation; and it is much

to be feared that notwithstanding the very serious expence

the Corporation have incurred, with a view to remedy the

evil, by rendering the imitation more difficult, the

anticipated result is not likely to be obtained. It will

hardly be conceived that the Governors have expended as much

as one hundred thousand pounds in this laudable undertaking,

and, upon producing an impression, we are told it can be

imitated by one, who, within three weeks produced a fac-

simile, and puzzled the makers of the original note to

discover which was the work-manship of their own hands. Nay,

even an engraver on wood is said to have produced an

excellent imitation in a few hours. It is however sincerely

to be hoped that an effectual stop will be eventually put to

the possibility of committing this crime, which, we

apprehend, nine times out of ten brings the poor, needy,

half-starved retailer of paper to the gallows, while the

more un-principled wholesale dealer escapes detection.

While on the subject of forged notes, we cannot help

deprecating the circulation of what are termed _flash

notes_, which, if not originally intended to deceive and

defraud, are calculated to accomplish these objects, when in

the hands of the artful and designing. We think there is a

tradesman in the vicinity of the Bank who presents such of

his customers as visits his repository to have their hair

cut, &c. with a Hash note, purporting to be for 501.; and we

have also reason to believe that more than one attempt has

been detected, where the parties have really endeavoured to

pass them as valid Bank of England paper. The danger

therefore must be evident.

~316~~ We have reason to think she is frequently much straitened for

want of the necessary supplies for sustenance, and she has temporary

relief occasionally from those who knew her family and her former

circumstances in life, while she boldly perseveres in the pursuit of

fancied property, and the restoration of her brother.

“I have heard her make heavy complaints of the difficulties she has had

to encounter, and the privations she has been subjected to; but her own

language will best speak the impressions on her mind. Here is a printed

letter which was circulated by her some time ago:--

To the worthy Inhabitants of the Parish of St. Mary, Newington, Surrey.

It is with feelings of deep regret I have to deplore the necessity that

compels me to adopt a public measure, for the purpose of obtaining my

property from those gentlemen that hold it in trust. For a period of ten

years I have endured the most cruel and unjustifiable persecution, which

has occasioned the premature death of my mother; a considerable loss of

property; all my personal effects of apparel and valuables; has exposed

me to the most wanton and barbarous attacks, the greatest insults, and

the severe and continual deprivation of every common necessary. Having

made every appeal for my right, or even a maintenance, without effect,

I now take the liberty of adopting the advice of some opulent friends in

the parish, and solicit general favour in a loan by subscription for a

given time, not doubting the liberal commiseration of many ladies

and gentlemen, towards so great a sufferer. As it is not possible to

describe the wrongs I have endured, the misery that has been heaped upon

me, in so limited a space, I shall be happy to give every explanation

upon calling for the result of this entreaty and to those ladies and

gentlemen that condescend to favour

S. WHITEHEAD

With their presence, at

The White Hart Inn, Borough.

Besides Bills to an immense amount, accepted by the Dey of Algiers, and

payable by his Grand Plenipotentiary.

Various sums in the English and Irish Funds, in the names of various

Trustees: in the 3 per cent. Consols--3 per cent. 1726--3 per cent.

South Sea Annuities--3 per cent. Old South Sea Annuities--4 per cent. 3

per cent. 5 per cent. Long Annuities.

Besides various Freehold, Copyhold, and Leasehold Estates, Reversions

and Annuities, of incalculable value.

One of the Freehold Estates is that known by the name of Ireland's Row,

and the Brewhouse adjacent, Mile End; the Muswell Hill Estate; a large

House in Russell Square, tenanted at present by Mr. B-----dd!!!

“For the truth of this statement, or the real existence of any property

belonging to her, I am not able to vouch. She is well known in all

the offices of this great Establishment, is generally peaceable in

her conduct, and communicative in her conversation, which at times

distinguishes her as a person of good education.”

“Hard is the fortune which your Sex attends, Women, like princes, find

few real friends; All who approach them their own ends pursue, Lovers

and ministers are seldom true. Hence oft from reason heedless beauty

strays, And the most trusted guide the most betrays.”

The conversation was here interrupted by the arrival of a Gentleman,

who, taking Mr. M. on one side, Tom and Bob wished him a good morning.

They proceeded to ~318~~ view the various offices which branch out

from the Rotunda, and which are appropriated to the management of each

particular stock, in each of which Bob could not help admiring the happy

disposition of every department to facilitate business. The arrangement

of the books, and the clerks, under the several letters of the alphabet,

he conceived was truly excellent.

“The Corporation of the Bank,” said Dashall, “are prohibited from

trading in any sort of goods or merchandize whatsoever; but are to

confine the use of their capital to discounting Bills of Exchange, and

to the buying and selling of gold and silver bullion; with a permission

however to sell such goods as are mortgaged or pawned to them and not

redeemed within three months after the expiration of the time for their

redemption. Their profits arise from their traffic in bullion; the

discounting of Bills of Exchange for Bankers, Merchants, Factors, and

Speculators; and the remuneration they receive from Government, for

managing the public funds, and for receiving the subscriptions on loans

and lotteries. But we may ramble about in these places for a month, and

still have novelty in store; and there is a little world underneath the

greater part of this extensive building devoted to printing-offices,

ware-rooms, &c.”

They had now reached the door which leads into Bartholomew Lane, and,

upon descending the steps, and turning to the left, Bob's eyes soon

discovered the Auction Mart, “What have we here?” inquired he.

“That,” replied his Cousin, “is a building which may deservedly be

rank'd as one of the ornaments of the City; and its arrangements and

economy, as well as the beauty of its interior, are well deserving the

notice of every stranger. This fine establishment, which serves as a

focus for the sale of estates and other property by public auction, is

both useful and ornamental; it was built about the time when the spirit

of combination was so strong in London. You must know, some years back,

every kind of business and trade appeared likely to be carried on by

Joint Stock Companies, and the profits divided upon small shares. Many

Fire-offices have to date their origin from this source--the Hope, the

Eagle, the Atlas, and others. The Golden Lane Brewery was opened

upon this principle; some Water Companies were established; till

neighbourhood ~319~~ and partnership almost became synonimous; and, I

believe, among many other institutions of that kind, the Building before

us is one. It contains many handsome rooms and commodious offices; but,

as for offices, every street and every alley abounds with them, and,

now-a-days, if you want to hire a Cook or a Scullion, you have nothing

to do but to send a letter to a Register-office, and you are suited in

a twinkling. It was an excellent idea, and I remember the old Buck who

used to call himself the founder of establishments of that nature, or

rather the first introducer of them to the notice of Englishmen, poor

old Courtois.”

John Courtois is said to have been a native of Picardy, where he was

born about the year 1737 or 1738. He repaired to this country while yet

young, in the character of _valet de chambre_ to a gentleman who had

picked him up in his travels; and, as he came from one of the poorest

of the French provinces, he “took root,” and throve wonderfully on his

transplantation to a richer soil.

On the death of his master, he removed to the neighbourhood of the

Strand; and St. Martin's Street,. Leicester Square, became the scene of

his industry and success. At a time when wigs were worn by boys, and a

Frenchman was supposed the only person capable of making one fit “for

the grande monarque,” he commenced business as a perruquier, and

soon acquired both wealth and celebrity. To this he joined another

employment, which proved equally lucrative and appropriate, as it

subjected both masters and servants to his influence. This was the

keeping of a register-office, one of the first known in the Metropolis,

whence he drew incalculable advantages. He is also said to have been a

dealer in hair, which he imported largely from the continent. And yet,,

after all, it is difficult to conceive how he could have realized a

fortune exceeding 200,000L.! But what may not be achieved by a man who

despised no gains, however small, and in his own expressive language,

considered farthings as “the seeds of guineas!”

The following appears to be a true description of this very

extraordinary man, whom we ourselves have seen more than once:--“Old

Courtois was well known for more than half a century in the purlieus of

St. Martin's and the Haymarket. His appearance was meagre and squalid,

and his clothes, such as they were, were ~320~~ pertinaciously got up in

exactly the same cut and fashion, and the colour always either fawn or

marone. For the last thirty years, the venerable chapeau was uniformly

of the same cock. The principal feat, however, in which this fervent

votary of Plutus appeared before the public, was his nearly fatal affair

with Mary Benson, otherwise Mrs. Maria Theresa Phepoe. In April 1795,

this ill-fated-woman projected a rather bungling scheme, in order

to frighten her old acquaintance and visitor, Courtois, out of a

considerable sum of money. One evening, when she was certain of his

calling, she had her apartment prepared for his reception in a species

of funereal style--a bier, a black velvet pall, black wax candles

lighted, &c. No sooner had the friend entered the room, than the lady,

assisted by her maid, pounced on him, forced him into an arm chair,

in which he was forcibly held down by the woman, while the hostess,

brandishing a case-knife or razor, swore with some violent imprecations,

that instant should be his last, if he did not give her an order on his

“banker for a large sum of money. The venerable visitor, alarmed at the

gloomy preparations and dire threats of the desperate female, asked for

pen, ink, and paper; which being immediately produced, he wrote a check

on his banker for two thousand pounds. He immediately retired with

precipitation, happy to escape without personal injury. The next

morning, before its opening, he attended at the Banker's, with some

Police-officers; and on Mrs. Phepoe's making her appearance with the

check, she was arrested, and subsequently tried at the Old Bailey, on a

capital charge, grounded on the above proceedings. However, through

the able defence made by her counsel (the late Mr. Fielding) who took a

legal objection to the case as proved, and contended that she never

had or obtained any property of Mr. Courtois, on the principle that

possession constituted the first badge of ownership, she was only

sentenced to twelve months' imprisonment.”

“Some years since, the late Lord Gage met Courtois, at the court-room of

the East India House, on an election business. “Ah, Courtois!” said his

Lordship, “what brings you here?”--'To give my votes, my Lord,' was the

answer.--“What! are you a proprietor?--'Most certainly.'--“And of more

votes than one?”--'Yes, my ~321~~ Lord, I have four!'--“Aye, indeed! why

then, before you take the book, pray be kind enough to pin up my curls!”

With which modest request the proprietor of four votes, equal to ten

thousand pounds, immediately complied!

“M. Courtois married a few years since, and has left several children.

On reflecting that his widow's thirds would amount to an immense sum,

with his usual prudence he made a handsome settlement on her during

his lifetime. As his sons were not of very economical habits, he has

bequeathed them small annuities only; and vested the bulk of his fortune

in trustees on behalf of his daughters, who are infants.

“Until his death, he invariably adhered to the costume of the age in

which he was born. A three-cocked hat, and a plum-coloured coat,

both rather the worse for wear, in which we have seen him frequently,

invariably designated his person and habits; while a penurious economy,

that bid defiance to all vulgar imitation, accompanied him to his grave.

His death occurred in 1819, in the 80th or 81st year of his age.”

“Such characters,” observed Tallyho, “notwithstanding their

eccentricity, afford useful lessons to those who, in this giddy and

dissipated age, devote a part of their time to thinking.”

“No doubt of it,” replied Dashall; “they furnish examples of what may

be done by perseverance and determination, and almost seem to verify the

assertion, that every one may become rich if he pleases. But come, we

must move towards Tom's Coffee House, in our way to which we will

pass through the Royal Exchange, which lies directly before us. It was

originally a brick building, erected by Sir Thomas Gresham in the year

1567, but being destroyed by the fire of London in 1666, the present

building of Portland stone was raised in its place, the first stone

of which was laid by Charles II. in 1667; in consequence of which his

statue has been placed in the centre of its quadrangle, around which the

Merchants assemble daily to transact their commercial business.{1}

1 The merry Monarch was fond of the Citizens, and frequently

honoured the Lord Mayor's table with his presence. It is

said of him, that, on retiring to his carriage one day after

dining with the civic Sovereign, he was followed by the

latter, who, with a freedom inspired by the roseate Deity,

laid hold of His Majesty by the arm, and insisted that he

should not go until he had drunk t'other bottle. The Monarch

turned round, and good-humouredly repeating a line from an

old song--“The man that is drunk is as great as a king,”

went back to the company, and doubtless complied with the

Lord Mayor's request.

~322~~ “It has two principal fronts, one in Cornhill, and the other,

which you now see, is at the end of Threadneedle Street; each of which

has a piazza, affording a convenient shelter from the sun and rain.

It is open as a thoroughfare from eight in the morning till six in the

evening; but the hours in which business is chiefly transacted, are from

two to five. Its extent is 203 feet by 171.”

By this time they had passed the gate, and Bob found himself in a

handsome area with a fine piazza carried entirely round, and furnished

with seats along the four walks, for Merchants of different nations, who

meet, each at their different stations, and was immediately attracted

by the appearance of the numerous specimens of art with which it was

adorned.

“Do you observe,” said his Cousin, “within these piazzas are

twenty-eight niches; all vacant but that in which is placed a statue of

Sir Thomas Gresham, in the north-west angle; and that in the south-west,

which presents a statue of Sir John Barnard, Magistrate of the City, and

one of its Representatives in Parliament. Those smaller statues in the

niches of the wall of the Quadrangle, in the upper story, are the Kings

and Queens of England, beginning with Edward I. on the North side, and

ending with his late Majesty on the East. As far as Charles I. they were

executed by Gabriel Cibber. The various frames which are placed around

under the piazza, contain the names, residences and occupations of

Tradesmen, Mechanics and others. The grand front in Cornhill has

been under repair lately, and in its appearance, no doubt, is greatly

improved. The steeple which is just raised, is a handsome dome,

surmounted by the original grasshopper, rendered somewhat celebrated by

a prophecy, that certain alterations would take place in men, manners,

and times, when the grasshopper on the top of the Exchange should meet

the dragon at the top of Bow Church; and strange and extraordinary as it

may appear, this very circumstance is said to have taken place, as

they have both been seen in the warehouse of some manufacturer, to

whom ~323~~ they were consigned for repair; in addition to which, if

Crockery's{1} relation of the transmogrifications of England is to

be believed, the prophecy is in a considerable degree a whimsical and

laughable Burletta, in one act, has recently been produced at the Royal

Coburg Theatre, in which Mr. Sloman sings, with admirable comicality,

the following Song, alluded to by the Hon. Tom Dashall, to the tune of

O, The Roast Beef of Old England.

“From Hingy I came with my Master, O dear,

But Lunnun is not like the same place, that's clear;

It has nigh broke my heart since I have been here!

O, the old times of Old England,

O dear, the good English old times.

The town is so changed, that I don't know a spot;

The times are so hard, there's no vork to be got;

And for porter they charges you tip-pence a pot!

O, the old times, &c.

Then the sides of the houses are stuck full of bills

About Blacking, Mock-Auctions, and vonderful Fills;

But for von vot they cures, a hundred they kills!

O, the old times, &c.

There's the names are all halter'd verewer I goes,

And the people all laughs at the cut of my close;

The men are turn'd vomen, the belles are turn'd beaux!

O, the old times, &c.

Ven I vent out to Hingy, if any von died,

A good vooden coffin they used to prowide,

But hiron vons now keeps the poor vorms houtside!

O, the old times, &c.

There's the Lancaster schools now all over the land,

Vot teaches the children to scribble on sand--

And a hugly Bonassus vot lives in the Strand!

O, the new times, &c.

There's a new Life-preserver, vith vich you cant drown;

And a new kind of Sov'reigns just com'd into town,

Von is vorth a pound note, and the other a crown!

O, the new times, &c.

The Play-bills have hard vords, vot I cannot speak;

And the horgans plays nothing but Latin and Greek;

And it's rain'd every day now for more than a veek!

O, the new times, &c.

There's a man valks on vater and don't vet his feet;

And a patent steam-kitchen, vot cooks all your meat;

And Epp's ham and beef shop in every street!

O, the new times, &c.

I valks up and down vith the tears in my hye;

Vot they vonce call'd a vaggon is now call'd a fly;

And the boys points their fingers, and calls I--a “Guy!

O, the old times of Old England,

O dear, the good English old times.”

~324~~There is a stair-case in each front, and one on each side, which

lead to a gallery above, running round the whole building, containing

the offices of various establishments; but I believe, in the original

plan, shops were intended to fill the building to the top. At present,

the upper rooms are occupied by Lloyd's celebrated Subscription

Coffee-house, for the use of Under-writers and Merchants--by the Royal

Exchange Insurance Company, and various offices of individuals. There

are also the Gresham Lecture--Rooms, where lectures are read pursuant to

the will of the late Sir Thomas Gresham, who bequeathed to the City of

London and the Mercers' Company, all the profits arising from these and

other premises in Cornhill, in trust to pay salaries to four lecturers

in divinity, astronomy, music, and geometry; and three readers in civil

law, physic, and rhetoric, who read lectures daily in term time.

“This we may consider the grand mart of the universe! where congregate

those sons of Commerce the British Merchants, who, in dauntless extent

of enterprise, hold such distinguished pre-eminence!”

Tallyho viewed the scene before him with an inquisitive eye, and was

evidently wrapped in surprise at the “busy hum of men,” all actuated

by one universal object, the acquisition of wealth. The spacious area

exhibited a mass of mercantile speculators, numerously grouped, in

conversation; under the piazzas appeared a moving multitude in like

manner engaged, while the surrounding seats were in similar occupation;

Dashall and Bob, of the many hundreds of individuals present, were

perhaps the only two led to the place by curiosity alone.

Tallyho, who, on every occasion of “doubtful dilemma,” looked to his

cousin Dashall for extrication, expressed his surprise at the appearance

of a squalid figure, whose lank form, patched habiliments, and unshorn

beard, indicated ~325~~extreme penury; in familiar converse with a

gentleman fashionably attired, and of demeanour to infer unquestionable

respectability.

“Interest,” said Tallyho, “supersedes every other consideration, else

these two opposites would not meet.”

“Your observation is just,” replied his cousin; “the tatterdemallion to

whom you allude, is probably less impoverished than penurious; perhaps

of miserly habits, and in other respects disqualified for polite

society. What then, he is doubtless in ample possession of the essential

requisite; and here a monied man only is a good man, and without money

no man can be respectable.”{1}

Here the continued and deafening noise of a hand-bell, rung by one

of the Exchange-keepers underlings, perched on the balcony over the

southern gate, interrupted Mr. Dashall's remarks; it was the signal for

locking up the gates, and inferring at the same time obedience to the

summons with due promptitude and submission, on pain of being detained

two hours “in duresse vile.”

Sufficient alacrity of egression not having been shown, the Keepers

closed the two gates, and at the same time locked the east and western

avenues; thus interdicting from egress above three hundred contumacious

individuals, including the Hon. Tom Dashall and his Cousin.

A considerable time having now elapsed without any prospect of

enlargement, dissatisfaction gained ground apace, and shortly ripened

into actual mutiny. The disaffected now proceeded to hold a council of

war, and after a few moments deliberation, it was resolved unanimously

to storm the avenues! Dashall and

1 Some years ago, a gentleman of extensive property, residing in the

country, was desirous of raising, by way of loan on the security of

landed estates, the sum of 30,000L. His Solicitor in London, with whom

he had corresponded on the subject, summoned him at last to town; a

lender was found, who was to meet the Solicitor at a certain time and

place appointed, in the neighbourhood of the Exchange. The borrower,

on the day and near the hour fixed upon, was in the area of the Royal

Exchange, when there crossed over a wretched looking being, the very

personification of misery. The gentleman, unsolicited, gave the poor

object a shilling. On going to the appointed rendezvous, how great was

his astonishment to find in the person of the wealthy monied man the

identical receiver of his bounty!--“Ha, ha,” cried he, “you shall not

fare the worse for your generosity!” and actually advanced the money

on terms much easier than expected. This personage was the celebrated

Daniel Dancer.

~326~~ Tallyho declined taking any part in the enterprise; they took a

right view of the affair; they were mere casual visitants, not likely

ever again to suffer a similar restraint, while the others were in the

daily practice of transacting business on the spot: to them therefore

the frequent recurrence of the present disaster might happen--theirs

then was the cause, as being most particularly interested.

An attack was made by the prisoners upon the portals opening into Bank

Buildings and Sweeting's Kents; but the former having been shattered

sometime since on a similar occasion, and subsequently very strongly

repaired, it was found impregnable, at least to any immediate exertion

of force, and being neither furnished with a park of artillery, nor with

the battering ram of the ancients, the little army faced to the right

about, enfiladed the area, and took up a new position, in due order of

assault, against the door of the avenue leading into Sweeting's Rents.

The affair was decided, and without bloodshed; the bars soon bent before

the vigour of the assailants; one of these was taken into custody by a

Beadle, but rescued, and the attack recommenced with success; when the

opposite door was also opened by the Shop-keeper living in that avenue,

and the Exchange was finally cleared at four minutes past five o'clock,

after above an hour's detention, including the time occupied in storming

the avenues.

The triumph of liberty was now complete; the intrepid phalanx disbanded

itself; and our Heroes having made the farewell conge to their

victorious compeers, proceeded into Cornhill, where, Dashall espying

his curricle at the door of Tom's Coffee House, they, after refreshing

themselves, took a cheerful country drive over London Bridge, Clapham

Common, Wandsworth, &c. from which they returned at six o'clock to

dinner, determined to have a night's rest before they proceeded in

search of further adventures.~327~~

CHAPTER XXI

“Happy the man, who void of cares and strife,

In silken or in leathern purse retains

A SPLENDID shilling! he nor hears with pain

New oysters cried, nor sighs for cheerful ale;

But I, whom griping penury surrounds,

And hunger, sure attendant upon want,

With scanty offal and small acid tiff,

Wretched repast, my meagre corse sustain!

Or solitary walk, or dose at home

In garret vile!”

TALKING over, at the breakfast-table, the occurrences of the preceding

day--“On my conscience!” exclaimed Tallyho, “were the antediluvian

age restored, and we daily perambulated the streets of this immense

Metropolis during a hundred years to come, I firmly believe that every

hour would bring a fresh accession of incident.”

“Ad infinitum,” answered Dashall; “where happiness is the goal in

view, and fifteen hundred thousand competitors start for the prize, the

manouvres of all in pursuit of the grand ultimatum must ever exhibit an

interesting and boundless variety. London,

“. . . the needy villain's general home,

The common sewer of Paris and of Rome!”

where ingenious vice too frequently triumphs over talented worth--where

folly riots in the glare of luxury, and merit pines in indigent

obscurity.--Allons donc!--another ramble, and chance may probably

illustrate my observation.”

“Take notice,” said the discriminating Dashall to his friend, as they

reached the Mall in St. James's Park, “of that solitary knight of the

woeful countenance; his thread-bare raiment and dejected aspect, denote

disappointment and privation;--ten imperial sovereigns to a plebeian

~328~~ shilling, he is either a retired veteran or a distressed poet.”

The object of curiosity, who had now seated himself, appeared to have

attained the age of fifty, or more--a bat that had once been

black--a scant-skirted blue coat, much the worse for wear--a striped

waistcoat--his lank legs and thighs wrapt in a pair of something

resembling trowsers, but “a world too wide for his shrunk shanks”--short

gaiters--shoes in the last stage of consumption--whiskers of full

dimensions--his head encumbered with an unadjusted redundancy-of grey

hair: such were the habiliments and figure of this son of adversity!

The two friends now seated themselves on the same bench with the

stranger, who, absorbed in reflection, observed not their approach.

The silence of the triumvirate was broken in upon by Tom, who, with his

usual suavity of manners, politely addressed himself to the unknown,

on the common topic of weather, _et cetera_, without eliciting in reply

more than an assenting or dissenting monosyllable, “You have seen some

service, Sir?”

“Yes.”

“In the army, I presume?”

“No.”

“Under Government?”

“Yes.”

“In the navy, probably?”

“No.”

“I beg your pardon,” continued Dashall--“my motives originate not in

idle inquisitiveness; if I can be of any service------”

The stranger turned towards him an eye of inquiry. “I ask not from

impertinent curiosity,” resumed Dashall, “neither would I wish

indelicately to obtrude an offer of assistance, perhaps equally

unnecessary as unacceptable; yet there are certain mutabilities of life

wherein sympathy may be allowed to participate.”

“Sir,” said the other, with an immediate grateful expansion of mind, and

freedom of communication--“I am inexpressibly indebted for the honour

of your solicitude, and feel no hesitation in acknowledging that I am

a literary writer; but so seldom employed, and, when employed, so

inadequately requited, that to me the necessaries of life are frequently

inaccessible.”

~329~~ Here Tallyho interrupted the narrator by asking--whence it

was that he had adopted a profession so irksome, precarious, and

unproductive?

“Necessity,” was the reply. “During a period of eight years, I performed

the duties as senior Clerk of an office under Government; four years

ago the establishment was broken up, without any provision made for its

subordinate dependents; and thus I became one of the twenty thousand

distressed beings in London, who rise from bed in the morning, unknowing

where to repose at night, and are indebted to chance for a lodging or a

dinner!”{1} 1 The following calculation, which is curious in all its

parts, cannot fail to interest the reader:--

The aggregate Population on the surface of the known

habitable Globe is estimated at 1000,000,000 souls. If

therefore we reckon with the Ancients, that a generation

lasts 30 years, then in that space 1000,000,000 human beings

will be born and die; consequently, 91,314 must be dropping

into eternity every day, 3800 every hour, or about 63 every

minute, and more than one every second. Of these

1000,000,000 souls, 656,000,000 are supposed to be Pagans,

160,000,000 Mahomedans, 9,000,000 Jews, only 175,000,000 are

called Christians, and of these only 50,000,000 are

Protestants.

There are in London 502 places of Worship--one Cathedral,

one Abbey, 114 Churches, 132 Chapels and Chapels of Ease,

220 Meet-ings and Chapels for Dissenters, 43 Chapels for

Foreigners, and 6 Synagogues for Jews. About 4050 public and

private Schools, including Inns of Courts, Colleges, &c.

About 8 Societies for Morals; 10 Societies for Learning and

Arts; 112 Asylums for Sick and Lame; 13 Dispensaries, and

704 Friendly Societies. Charity distributed £800,000 per

annum.

There are about 2500 persons committed for trial in one

year: The annual depredations amount to about £2,100,000.

There are 19 Prisons, and 5204 Alehouses within the bills of

Mortality. The amount of Coin counterfeited is £200,000 per

annum. Forgeries on the Bank of England in the year

£150,000. About 3000 Receivers of Stolen Goods. About 10,000

Servants at all times out of place. Above 20,000 miserable

individuals rise every morning without knowing how or by

what means they are to be supported during the passing day,

or where, in many instances, they are to lodge on the

succeeding night.

London consumes annually 112,000 bullocks; 800,000 sheep and

lambs; 212,000 calves; 210,000 hogs; 60,000 sucking pigs;

7,000,000 gallons of milk, the produce of 9000 cows; 10,000

acres of ground cultivated for vegetables; 4000 acres for

fruit; 75,000 quarters of wheat; 700,000 chaldrons of coals;

1,200,500 barrels of ale and porter; 12,146,782 gallons of

spirituous liquors and compounds; 35,500 tons of wine;

17,000,000 pounds of butter, 22,100,000 pounds of cheese;

14,500 boat loads of cod.

~330~~ “May I ask,” said Mr. Dashall, “from what species of literary

composition you chiefly derive your subsistence?”

“From puffing--writing rhyming advertisements for certain speculative

and successful candidates for public favour, in various avocations;

for instance, eulogizing the resplendent brilliancy of Jet or Japan

Blacking--the wonderful effects of Tyrian-Dye and Macassar Oil in

producing a luxuriant growth and changing the colour of the hair,

transforming the thinly scattered and hoary fragments of age to the

redundant and auburn tresses of youth--shewing forth that the “Riding

Master to his late Majesty upwards of thirty years, and Professor of the

Royal Menage of Hanover, sets competition at defiance, and that all who

dare presume to rival the late Professor of the Royal Menage of Hanover,

are vile unskilful pretenders, ci-devant stable-boys, and totally

undeserving the notice of an enlightened and discerning public! In fact,

Sir, I am reduced to this occasional humiliating employment, derogatory

certainly to the dignity of literature, as averting the approach of

famine. I write, for various adventurers, poetical panegyric, and

illustrate each subject by incontrovertible facts, with appropriate

incident and interesting anecdote.”

“And these facts,” observed Bob Tallyho, “respectably authenticated?”

“By no means,” answered the Poet; “nor is it necessary, nobody takes the

trouble of inquiry, and all is left to the discretion of the writer and

the fertility of his invention.”

“On the same theme, does not there exist,” asked Dashall, “a difficulty

in giving it the appearance of variety?”

“Certainly; and that difficulty would seem quite insurmountable when

I assure you, that I have written for a certain Blacking Manufacturer

above two hundred different productions on the subject of his

unparalleled Jet, each containing fresh incident, and very probably

fresh incident must yet be found for two hundred productions more! But

the misfortune is, that every thing is left to my invention, and the

remuneration is of a very trifling nature for such mental labour:

besides, it has frequently happened that the toil has proved

unavailing--the production is rejected--the anticipated half-crown

remains in the accumulating coffers of the Blacking-manufacturer, and

the Author returns, pennyless and despondingly, to his attic, where, if

fortune at last befriends him, he probably may breakfast dine and

sup, tria juncta in uno, at a late hour in the evening!” ~331~~ “And,”

exclaimed the feeling Dashall, “this is real Life in London!”

“With me actually so,” answered the Poet.

The Blacking-maker's Laureat now offered to the perusal of his

sympathising friends the following specimen of his ability in this mode

of composition:--

PUG IN ARMOUR;

OR,

THE GARRISON ALARMED.

“Whoe'er on the rock of Gibraltar has been,

A frequent assemblage of monkeys has seen

Assailing each stranger with volleys of stones,

As if pre-determin'd to fracture his bones!

A Monkey one day took his turn as a scout,

And gazing his secret position about,

A boot caught his eye, near the spot that was plac'd,

By w * * * *n's jet; Blacking transcendently grac'd;

And, viewing his shade in its brilliant reflection,

He cautiously ventured on closer inspection.

The gloss on its surface return'd grin for grin,

Thence seeking his new-found acquaintance within,

He pok'd in the boot his inquisitive snout,

Head and shoulders so far, that he could not get out;

And thus he seem'd cas'd--from his head to his tail,

In suit of high-burnish'd impregnable mail!

Erect on two legs then, with retrograde motion,

It stalk'd; on the Sentry impressing a notion

That this hostile figure, of non-descript form,

The fortress might take by manoeuvre or storm!

Now fixing his piece, in wild terror he bawls--

“A legion of devils are scaling the walls!”

The guards sallied forth 'mid portentous alarms,

Signal-guns were discharged, and the drums beat to arms;

And Governor then, and whole garrison, ran

To meet the dread foe in this minikin man!

“A man--'tis a monkey!” Mirth loudly exclaim'd,

And peace o'er the garrison then was proclaim'd;

And Pug was released, the strange incident backing

The merits, so various, of W* * * *n's Jet Blacking.”

~332~~ This trifle, well enough for the purpose, was honoured with

approbation.

The two friends, unwilling to offend the delicacy of the Poet by a

premature pecuniary compliment at this early stage of acquaintance, took

his address and departed, professing an intention of calling upon him at

his lodgings in the evening.

“I would not, were I a bricklayer's labourer,” exclaimed Bob, “exchange

situations with this unfortunate literary hack--this poor devil of

mental toil and precarious result, who depends for scanty subsistence on

the caprice of his more fortunate inferiors, whose minds, unexpanded

by liberal feeling, and absorbed in the love of self, and the

sordid consideration of interest, are callous to the impression of

benevolence!--But let us hope that few such cases of genius in

adversity occur, even in this widely extended and varied scene of human

vicissitude.”

“That hope,” replied his Cousin, “is founded on

“The baseless fabric of a vision!”

There are, at this moment, thousands in London of literary merit, of

whom we may truly say,

“Chill penury repress their noble rage,

And freeze the genial current of the soul!”

Men unsustained by the hand of friendship, who pine in unheeded

obscurity, suffering the daily privations of life's indispensable

requisites, or obtaining a scanty pittance at the will of opulent

ignorance, and under the humiliating contumely, as we have just been

informed, even of Blacking Manufacturers!

“But here is a man, who, during a period of eight years, held a public

situation, the duties of which he performed satisfactorily to the last;

and yet, on the abolition of the establishment, while the Principal

retires in the full enjoyment of his ample salary, this senior Clerk

and his fellows in calamity are cast adrift upon the world, to live or

starve, and in the dearth of employment suitable to their habits and

education, the unfortunate outcasts are left to perish, perhaps by the

hand of famine in the streets, or that of despondency in a garret;

or, what is worse than either, consigned to linger out their remaining

wretched ~333~~ days under the “cold reluctant charity” of a parish

workhouse.{1}

“When the principal of a Public-office has battened for many years on

his liberal salary, and the sole duties required of him have been those

of occasionally signing a few official papers, why not discontinue his

salary on the abolition of the establishment, and partition it out in

pensions to those disbanded Clerks by whose indefatigable exertions

the business of the public has been satisfactorily conducted? These

allowances, however inadequate to the purpose of substantiating all

the comforts, might yet realise the necessaries of life, and, at least,

would avert the dread of absolute destitution.”

A pause ensued--Dashall continued in silent rumination--a few moments

brought our Heroes to the Horse Guards; and as the acquirement “devoutly

to be wished” was a general knowledge of metropolitan manners, they

proceeded to the observance of Real Life in a Suttling House.

Child's Suttling House at the Horse Guards is the almost exclusive

resort of military men, who, availing themselves of the intervals

between duty, drop in to enjoy a pipe and pint.

“To fight their battles o'er again,

Thrice to conquer all their foes,

And thrice to slay the slain.”

In the entrance on the left is a small apartment, bearing the dignified

inscription, in legible characters on the door, of “The Non-Commissioned

Officers' Room.” In front of the bar is a larger space, boxed off,

and appropriated to the use of the more humble heroical aspirants, the

private men; and passing through the bar, looking into Whitehall, is

the _Sanctum Sanctorum_, for the reception of the more exalted rank, the

golden-laced, three-striped, subordinate commandants, Serjeant-Majors

and Serjeants, with the colour-clothed regimental appendants of

Paymasters and Adjutants' Clerks, _et cetera_. Into this latter

apartment our accomplished friends were ushered with becoming

1 “Swells then thy feeling heart, and streams thine eye

O'er the deserted being, poor and old,

Whom cold reluctant parish-charity

Consigns to mingle with his kindred mold.”

--Charlotte Smith.

~334~~ respect to their superior appearance, at the moment when a warm

debate was carrying on as to the respective merits of the deceased

Napoleon and the hero of Waterloo.

The advocate of the former seemed unconnected with the army: the

adherent to the latter appeared in the gaudy array of a Colour-Serjeant

of the Foot Guards, and was decorated with a Waterloo medal,

conspicuously suspended by a blue ribbon to the upper button of his

jacket; and of this honourable badge the possessor seemed not less vain

than if he had been adorned with the insignia of the most noble order of

the Garter.

“I contend, and I defy the universe to prove the contrary,” exclaimed

the pertinacious Serjeant in a tone of authoritative assertion,

“that the Duke of Wellington is a greater man than ever did, does, or

hereafter may exist!”

“By no means,” answered the Civilian. “I admit, so far as a thorough

knowledge of military tactics, and a brilliant career of victory

constitutes greatness, his grace of Wellington to be a great hero, but

certainly not the greatest 'inan that ever did, does, or hereafter may

exist!” “Is there a greater man? Did there ever exist a greater?--when

and where?” the Serjeant impatiently demanded.

“Buonaparte was a greater,” answered the opposing disputant; “because to

military renown unparalleled in the annals of ancient or modern history,

he added the most consummate knowledge of government; and although his

actions might frequently partake of arbitrary sway, (and who is the

human being exempted from human frailty) yet he certainly created and

sustained, in her most elevated zenith, the splendour of France, till

crushed by the union of nations in arms; and if power is the criterion

of greatness, who was, is, or ever can be greater than the man, who,

emerging from obscurity, raised himself solely by his mental energies

to the highest elevation of human glory; and who, this Island excepted,

commanded the destinies of all Europe! The most determined of his

enemies will not deny, calmly and duly appreciating his merits, that he

possessed unrivalled talent; and this fact the hero, whose cause you

so vehemently espouse, would, I have no doubt, be the foremost in

acknowledging.”

In deficiency of argument, the Serjeant resorted to invective; the

vociferous disputation reached the next ~335~~ room, and was taken up by

the rank and file in a manner not less tumultuous; when an honest native

of the “Emerald Isle” good-humouredly terminated the war of words,

calling for half a quartern of gin, with which to qualify a pint of

Whitbread's entire.

“To the immortal memory of St. Patrick, and long life to him!” exclaimed

Patrick O'Shaughnessy. “If there did not exist but them two selves, bad

luck to the spalpeen who will say that the Duke and my Lord Londondery

would not be the greatest men in the universe!”

This sally led to a cessation of hostilities, which might have been

followed by a definitive treaty of peace, but the dæmon of discord again

made its appearance in the tangible shape of a diminutive personage,

who, hitherto silently occupying a snug out-of-the-way corner by the

fireplace, had escaped observation.

Dashall and his Cousin emerging from the Sanctum Sanctorum, where

their presence seemed to have operated as a check on the freedom of

discussion, had just seated themselves in the room allotted to the

private soldiers, when, in a broad northern accent, the aforesaid

taciturn gentleman, selecting the two strangers, who, of all the

company, seemed alone worthy the honour of his notice, thus addressed

them:

“I crave your pardon, Sirs--but I guess frae your manner that ye are

no unacquainted wi' the movements o' high life--do you ken how lang the

King means to prolong his abode amang our neebors owre the water, his

hair-brain'd Irish subjects, whase notions o' loyalty hae excited sae

mony preposterously antic exhibitions by that volatile race O' people?”

“I am not in possession,” answered Dashall, “of any information on the

subject.”

“By the manes of the Priest,” exclaimed Mr. O'Shaughnessy, “but the King

(God bless him) has visited the land of green Erin, accompanied by the

spirit of harmony, and praties without the sauce of butter-milk be his

portion, who does not give them both a hearty welcome!--Arrah, what mane

you by a preposterous exhibition? By hecky, the warm hearts of the sons

and daughters of St. Patrick have exhibited an unsophisticated feeling

of loyalty, very opposite indeed to the chilling indifference, not to

say worse of it, of those his subjects at home; and as Sir William, the

big Baronet of the City, said in the House ~336~~ that gives laws to the

land, Why should not his Majesty be cheered up a little?”

This effusion of loyalty was well received, and Dashall and his Cousin

cordially united in the general expression of approbation.

“This is a' vera weel,” said the Northern; “but an overstrained civility

wears ay the semblance o' suspicion, and fulsome adulation canna be vera

acceptable to the mind o' delicate feeling: for instance, there is

my ain country, and a mair ancient or a mair loyal to its legitimate

Sovereign there disna exist on the face o' the whole earth; wad the King

condescend to honor wi' his presence the palace o' Holyrod House, he

wad experience as ardent a manifestation o' fidelity to his person and

government in Auld Reekie as that shown him in Dublin, though aiblins

no quite sae tumultuous; forbye, it wadna hae been amiss to hae gaen

the preference to a nation whare his ancestors held sway during sae mony

centuries, and whare, in the castle of Edinburgh, is still preserved the

sacred regalia, with which it migh no hae been unapropos to hae graced

his royal head and hand amidst the gratifying pageantry o' a Scotch

coronation. Sure I am that North Britain has never been honored publicly

wi' a royal visit.--Whether ony branch o' the present reigning family

hae been there incognita they best ken themselves.”

“You seem to have forgot,” observed Tallyho, “the visit of the Duke of

Cumberland to Scotland in the year 1745.”

“Begging your pardon for setting you right in that particular,” answered

the cynic, with a most significant expression of countenance, “that,

Sir, was not a visit, but a visitation!”

“Appropriate enough,” whispered Dashall to Tallyho.

“Augh, boderation to nice distinctions!” exclaimed O'Shaughnessy; “here,

Mister Suttler be after tipping over anoder half quartern of the cratur,

wid which to drink success to the royal visitant.”

“And that the company may participate in the gratifying expression of

attachment to their Sovereign, Landlord,” said Dashall, “let the glass

go round.”

“Testifying our regard for the Sovereign,” resumed the Northern, “it

canna be understood that we include a' the underlings o' Government. We

ought, as in duty bound, to venerate and obey the maister o' the house;

bat it is ~337~~ by no means necessary that we should pay a similar

respect to his ox and his ass, his man-servant and his maid-servant.

May be, had he been at hame on a late occasion o' melancholy solemnity,

blood wadna hae been spilt, and mickle dool and sorrow wad hae been

avoided.”

“We perfectly understand your allusion,” said one from the group of

Life-guardsmen: “Of us now present there were none implicated in the

unfortunate occurrences either of that day or a subsequent one: yet we

must not silently hear our comrades traduced--perhaps then it may be as

well to drop the subject.”

“I canna think o' relinquishing a topic 0' discourse,” answered the

Northern, “replete wi' mickle interest, merely at your suggestion; it

may be ye did your duty in obeying the commands, on that lamentable

occasion, O' your superior officers, and it is to be hoped that the duty

O' the country, towards those with whom originated the mischief, will

not be forgotten; there is already on record against the honour 0' your

corps a vera serious verdick.”

Here the Life-guardsmen spontaneously started up; but the immediate

interposition of Dashall averted me impending storm; while Tallyho,

imitating the generosity of his Cousin, ordered the circulation once

more of the bottle, to Unanimity betwixt the military and the people.

Harmony thus restored, the two friends took their leave, amidst the

grateful acknowledgments of the company, O'Shaughnessy swearing on

their departure, that doubtless the two strangers were begot in Ireland,

although they might have come over to England to be born! While the

pertinacious Northern observed, that appearances were aften deceitful,

although, to be sure, the twa friends had vera mickle the manners 0'

perfectly well-bred gentlemen, and seem'd, forbye, to hae a proper sense

o' national honor.

Proceeding into Whitehall, Tallyho much admired the statue-like figures

of the mounted sentries in the recesses by the gate of the Horse-guards;

the relief had just approached; the precision of retirement of the one

party, and advance to its post of the other: the interesting appearance

of the appropriately caparisoned and steady demeanour of the horses,

and their instinctive knowledge of military duty, excited deservedly

prolonged attention,

~338~~ “One would think,” said Tallyho, “that these noble animals are

really actuated by reasoning faculties.”

“Hereafter,” replied Dashall, “you will still more incline to this

opinion, when we have an opportunity of being present on a cavalry

field-day in Hyde Park, where manoeuvre will appear to have attained its

acme of perfection, as much from the wonderful docility of the horse as

the discipline of the rider.”{l}

“But hold, who have we here?--Our friend Sparkle, gazing about him with

an eye of inquisitive incertitude, as if in search of lost property.”

As his two friends approached, he seemed bewildered in the labyrinth

of conjecture.--“I have lost my horse!” he exclaimed, in answer to the

inquiry of Dashall. “Having occasion to stop half an hour at Drummond's,

I gave the animal in charge of an Israelite urchin, and now neither are

to be seen.”

Casting a look down the street, they at last discerned the Jew lad,

quickly, yet carefully leading the horse along, with two boys mounted on

its back. Thoroughly instructed in the maxim--Get money, honestly if

you can, but get it by any means! young Moses had made the most of the

present opportunity, by letting out the horse, at a penny a ride, from

Charing Cross to the Horse Guards; this, by his own confession, was

the fifteenth trip! Sparkle, highly exasperated, was about to apply the

discipline of the whip to the shoulders of the thrifty speculator, when

Tallyho, interceding in his behalf, he was released, with a suitable

admonition.

1 Not long since some cavalry horses, deemed “unfit for

further service,” were sold at Tattersal's. Of one of these

a Miller happened to be the purchaser. Subservient now to

the ignoble purposes of burthen, the horse one day was

led, 'with a sack of flour on his back, to the next market-

town; there while the Miller entered a house for a few

moments, and the animal quietly waited at the door, a

squadron of dragoons drew up in an adjacent street, forming

by sound of trumpet; the instant that the Miller's horse

heard the well-known signal, it started off with as much

celerity as its burthen admitted, and, to the great

amusement of the troop, and astonishment of the spectators,

took its station in the ranks, dressing in line, with the

accustomed precision of an experienced veteran in the

service; and it was with considerable difficulty that the

Miller, who had now hastened to the spot, could induce the

animal to relinquish its military ardour, to which it still

appeared to cling with renewed and fond pertinacity!

Sparkle, mounting his recovered charger, left his ~339~~ pedestrian

friends for the present, to continue their excursion; who, proceeding up

St. Martin's Lane, and admiring that noble edifice, the Church, reached,

without other remarkable occurrence, the quietude of Leicester Square.

Close by is Barker's Panorama, an object of attraction too prominent to

be passed without inspection. They now entered, and Tallyho stood mute

with delight at the astonishing effect of the perspective; while, as if

by the powers of enchantment, he seemed to have been transported into

other regions. Amidst scenes of rich sublimity, in the centre of a vast

amphitheatre, bounded only by the distant horizon, far remote from the

noisy bustle of the Metropolis, he gave full scope to his imagination;

and after an hour of pleasing reverie, left the fascinating delusion

with evident reluctance.

Emerging once more into the gay world, the two associates, in search

of Real Life in London, proceeded through Covent Garden Market, where

fruit, flowers, and exotics in profusion, invite alike the eye and the

appetite.

Onwards they reached the classic ground of Drury, “Where Catherine

Street descends into the Strand.”

“I never,” said the Hon. Tom Dashall, “pass this spot without a feeling

of veneration--the scenes of “olden times” rise on my view, and the

shades of Garrick, and our late loss, and not less illustrious

Sheridan, flit before me! This was then, as now, the seat of Cyprian

indulgence--the magnet of sensual attraction, where feminine youth and

beauty in their most fascinating and voluptuous forms were let out by

the unprincipled procuress, and the shrines of Venus and Apollo invited

the votaries of each to nocturnal sacrifice.{1}

1 The avenue to the boxes of Drury Lane Theatre was, in the

time of Garrick, through Vinegar Yard. In this passage an

old spider, better known, perhaps, by the name of a

Procuress, had spread her web, alias, opened a Bagnio, and

obtained a plentiful living by preying on those who

unfortunately or imprudently fell into her clutches. Those

who are not unacquainted with haddocks, will understand the

loose fish alluded to, who beset her doors, and accosted

with smiles or insults every one that passed. It happened

that a noble Lord, in his way to the theatre, with his two

daughters under his arm, was most grossly attacked by this

band of “flaming ministers.” He immediately went behind the

scenes, and insisted on seeing Mr. Garrick, to whom he

represented his case, and so roused the vengeance of the

little Manager, that he instantly, full of wrath, betook

himself to this unholy Sybil:--

“Twin-child of Cacus; Vulcan was their sire, Full offspring

both of healthless fume and fire!”

Finding her at the mouth of her cavern, he quickly gave veut

to his rage in the most buskin'd strain, and concluded by

swearing that he would have her ousted. To this assault she

was not backward in reply, but soon convinced him that she

was much more powerful in abusive language than our Roscius,

though he had recourse in his speech to Milton's “hell-born

bitch,” and other phrases of similar celebrity, whilst she

entirely depended on her own natural resources. Those to

whom this oratory is not new, have no need of our reporting

any of it; and those to whom it is a perfect mystery, boast

a “state the more gracious,” and are the more happy in their

ignorance. None of this rhapsody, however, although teeming

with blasphemy and abuse, had any effect on Garrick, and he

would have remained unmoved had she not terminated in the

following manner, which so excited the laughter of the

collected mob, and disconcerted “the soul of Richard,”

that, without another word to say, he hastily took shelter

in the theatre. Putting her arms akimbo, and letting down

each side of her mouth with wonderful expression of

contempt, she exclaimed--“You whipper snapper! you oust me!

You be d-----d! My house is as good as your's--aye, and

better too. I can come into your's whenever I like, and

see the best that you can do for a shilling; but d-----me if

you, or any body else, shall come into mine for less than a

fifteen-penny negus.”

~340~~ “This street and neighbourhood was wont to exhibit, nightly,

a melancholy proof of early infamy. Here might be seen a prolonged

succession of juvenile voluptuaries, females, many of them under

fourteen years of age, offering themselves to indiscriminate

prostitution, in a state verging on absolute nudity, alluring the

passengers, by every seductive wile, to the haunts of depravity, from

which retreat was seldom effected without pecuniary exaction, and

frequently accompanied by personal violence. The nuisance has been

partly abated, but entirely to remove it would be a task of more

difficult accomplishment than that of cleansing the Augean stable, and

would baffle all the labours of Hercules!”

“This fact,” observed Tallyho, “throws an indelible stain on

metropolitan police.”

“Not so,” answered his companion, “scarce a day passes without groups of

these unfortunates being held before a magistrate, and humanely disposed

of in various ways, with the view of preventing a recurrence to vicious

habits,--but in vain;--the stain is more attributed to the depraved

nature of man, who first seduces, and then casts off ~341~~ to infamy

and indigence the unhappy victim of credulity. Many of these wretched

girls would, in all probability, gladly have abstained from the career

of vice, if, on their first fall, they had experienced the consoling

protection of parents or friends;--but, shut out from home,--exiled from

humanity,--divested of character, and without resources,--no choice is

left, other than mendicity or prostitution!”{1}

The sombre reflections occasioned by these remarks gradually gave way to

those of a more enlivening hue, as the two friends proceeded along the

Strand. The various display, at the tradesmen's shop windows, of useful

and ornamental articles,--the continued bustle of the street,--the

throng of passengers of every description, hurrying on in the activity

of business, or more leisurely lounging their way under the impulse of

curiosity,--the endless succession of new faces, and frequent occurrence

of interesting incident;--these united in forming an inexhaustible fund

of amusement and admiration.

1 “Hatton Garden.--On Saturday, no less than fifteen

unfortunate girls, all elegantly attired, were placed at the

bar, charged by Cadby, the street-keeper on the Foundling

Estate, with loitering about the neighbourhood for their

nocturnal purposes. The constable stated, that repeated

complaints had been made to him by many of the inhabitants,

of the disgraceful practice of vast numbers of frail ones,

who resort every night to Brunswick Square. He had been

therefore instructed to endeavour to suppress the nuisance.

About twelve o'clock on Friday night, while perambulating

the district, he found the fifteen prisoners at the bar in

Brunswick Square, at their usual pursuits, and all of them

were in the act of picking up gentlemen. He procured

assistance, and they were taken into custody, and conveyed

to the watch-house.

None of the prisoners could deny the charge, but expressed

great contrition at being under the painful necessity of

procuring their subsistence in so disgraceful a manner. They

were examined individually, by the magistrates, as to the

origin that brought them to disgrace. Some, from their

admission, were farmers' daughters, and had been decoyed

from their relatives, and brought to London, and

subsequently deserted by their seducers. Some were nursery-

maids--others, girls seduced from boarding schools. Their

tales were truly distressing--some had only been six months

in such infamy, others twelve months, and some two years and

upwards.

The worthy magistrate, with much feeling, admonished them on

the evil course they were following, and pointed out the

means still left for them to return to the paths of virtue;

and on their severally promising never to appear again in

that quarter, they were discharged.”

Passing through Temple Bar, “Once more,” said ~342~~ Dashall, “we enter

the dominions of another Sovereign,--the Monarch of the City,--than

whom there is none more tenacious of the rights and immunities of

his subjects. Professing a strictly civil government, and consequent

hostility to military interference, it does not always happen that the

regal sway of the East harmonizes with that of the West, and the limited

reign of the former is generally most popular when most in opposition

to that of the latter. Several important events have occurred wherein a

late patriotic Right Honourable Chief Magistrate has had the opportunity

of manifesting a zealous, firm, and determined attachment to the

privileges of the community: the good wishes of his fellow-citizens have

accompanied his retirement, and his private and public worth will be

long held in deserved estimation.”

Turning up the Old Bailey, and passing, with no pleasing sensations,

that structure in front of which so many human beings expiate their

offences with their lives, without, in any degree, the frequency of

the dreadful example lessening the perpetration of crime,--“The crowd

thickens,” exclaimed the 'Squire; and advancing into Smithfield, a

new scene opened on the view of the astonished Tallyho. An immense and

motley crowd was wedged together in the open space of the market, which

was surrounded by booths and shows of every description, while the

pavement was rendered nearly impassable by a congregated multitude,

attracted by the long line of stalls, exhibiting, in ample redundancy,

the gorgeously gilt array of ginger-bread monarchs, savory spice-nuts,

toys for children and those of elder growth, and the numerous other

_et cetera_ of Bartholomew Fair, which at that moment the Lord Mayor

of London, with accustomed state and formality, was in the act of

proclaiming.

A more dissonant uproar now astounded the ears of Bob than ever issued

from the hounds at falt in the field or at variance in the kennel! The

prolonged stunning and vociferous acclamation of the mob, accompanied

by the deeply sonorous clangor of the gong--the shrill blast of the

trumpet--the hoarse-resounding voices of the mountebanks, straining

their lungs to the pitch of extremity, through speaking tubes--the

screams of women and children, and the universal combination of discord,

announced the termination of the Civic Sovereign's performance in the

drama; “the revelry now had began,” ~343~~ and all was obstreperous

uproar, and “confusion worse confounded.”

In the vortex of the vast assemblage, the Hon. Tom Dashall and his

Cousin were more closely hemmed in than they probably would have been at

the rout of female distinction, where inconvenience is the order of the

night, and pressure, to the dread of suffocation, the criterion of rank

and fashion. Borne on the confluent tide, retreat was impracticable;

alternately then, stationary and advancing with the multitude, as it

urged its slow and undulating progress; or paused at the attractions of

Wombwell and Gillman's rival menageries--the equestrian shows of Clark

and Astley--the theatres of Richardson and Gyngell, graced by the

promenade of the _dramatis personæ_ and lure of female nudity--the young

giantess--the dwarfs--and the accomplished lady, who, born without arms,

cuts out watch-papers with her toes, and takes your likeness with her

teeth!--Amidst these and numerous other seductive impediments to their

progress, our pedestrians, resisting alike temptation and invitation,

penetrated the mass of spectators, and gained an egress at Long Lane,

uninjured in person, and undamaged in property, “save and except” the

loss, by Bob, of a shoe, and the rent frock of his honourable Cousin.

To repair the one and replace the other was now the predominant

consideration. By fortunate proximity to a descendant of St. Crispin,

the latter object was speedily effected; but the difficulty of

finding, in that neighbourhood, a knight of the thimble, appearing

insurmountable, the two friends pursued their course, Dashall drawing

under his arm the shattered skirts of his garment, until they reached

Playhouse Yard, in Upper Whitecross Street, St. Luke's, to which they

had been previously directed, the epitome of Monmouth Street, chiefly

inhabited by tailors and old clothes retailers, where purchase and

repair are equally available.

Entering a shop occupied by an intelligent Scotch tailor, who, with

his son, was busily employed in making up black cloth and kerseymere

waistcoats, his spouse, a native of Edinburgh, with a smile of

complacency and avidity of utterance that strongly indicated a view to

the main chance, put her usual inquiry:

“What is your wull, Gentlemen--what wad you please to want?”

“My good lady,” answered Dashall, “we would be ~344~~ glad to accept the

services of your husband,” exhibiting at same time the rent skirts of

his frock. “This accident was sustained in passing, or rather in being

squeezed through the Fair; my friend too, experienced a trifling loss;

but, as it has been replaced, I believe that he does not require present

amendment.”

The materials destined to form the black waistcoats were then put aside,

while the northern adept in the exercise of the needle proceeded

to operate on the fractured garment; and a coat being supplied, _ad

interim_, Tom and his friend accepted the “hospitable invitation of the

guid wife, and seated themselves with unhesitating sociability.

“And sae ye hae been to the Fair, gentlemen?” “We have, madam,” said

Dashall, “and unintentionally so; we were not, until on the spot, aware

of any such exhibition, and got within its vortex just as the Lord Mayor

had licensed, by proclamation, the commencement of this annual scene of

idleness, riot and dissipation!”

“Hoot awa, Sir, ye wadna wish to deprive us o' our amusements; poor

folks dinna often enjoy pleasure, and why should na they hae a wee bit

o' it now and then, as weel as the rich?”

“I know not, my good lady,” exclaimed Bon, “that I can altogether

assimilate with your's my ideas of pleasure; if it consists in being

pressed nearly to death by a promiscuous rabble, in attempts on your

pocket, shoes trod off your feet by the formidable iron-cased soles of a

drayman's ponderous sandals, to say nothing of the pleasing effect thus

produced upon your toes, and in having the coat torn off from your back,

I would freely resign to the admirers of such pleasure the full benefit

of its enjoyment.”

“Accidents wull happen ony where and in ony situation,” replied the

garrulous wife; “ye may be thankfu', gentlemen, that its nae waur,--and,

for the matter o' the rent frock, my guid man wull repair it in sic a

way that the disaster wull no be seen, and the coat wull look as weel as

ever.”

The promise was verified; the reparation was made with equal neatness

and celerity; something beyond the required remuneration was given; and

Dashall inquiring if the worthy dame of _Auld Reekie_ would take a drop

of cordial, the friendly offer was accepted, and the glass of ~345~~

good fellowship having been drank, and civilities interchanged, the

strangers departed.

They were now in Whitecross Street, where sojourned their acquaintance

of the morning, the distressed Poet; and, from the accuracy of

description, had no difficulty in ascertaining his place of residence.

It was in a public-house; a convenient lodging for the forlorn

being, who, exiled from friendship, and unconnected by any ties of

consanguinity, can dress his scanty meal by a gratuitous fire, and where

casual generosity may sometimes supply him with a draught of Hanbury's

exhilarating beverage.

At the bar, directly facing the street door, the strangers, on inquiring

for the Poet by name, were directed by the landlord, with a sarcastical

expression of countenance, to “the first floor _down the chimney_!”

while the Hostess, whose demeanour perfectly accorded with that of

the well-manner'd gentlewoman, politely interfered, and, shewing the

parlour, sent a domestic to acquaint her lodger that he was wanted below

stairs.

The summons was instantaneously obeyed; but as the parlour precluded the

opportunity of private conversation, being partly occupied by clamorous

butchers, with whom this street abounds to redundancy, the Poet had no

other alternative than that of inviting the respectable visitants to

his attic, or, as the Landlord facetiously named the lofty domicile, his

first floor down the chimney!

Real Life in London must be seen, to be believed. The Hon. Tom Dashall

and his friend Tallyho were reared in the lap of luxury, and never

until now formed an adequate conception of the distressing privations

attendant on suffering humanity.

With a dejection of spirits evidently occasioned by the humiliating

necessity of ushering his polished friends into the wretched asylum of

penury, the Poet led the way with tardy reluctancy, while his visitors

regretted every step of ascent, under the appalling circumstance of

giving pain to adversity; yet they felt that to recede would be more

indelicate than to advance.

The apartment which they now entered seemed a lumber room, for the

reception of superfluous or unserviceable furniture, containing not

fewer than eleven decayed and mutilated chairs of varied description;

and the limited space, to make the most of it in a pecuniary point of

view, ~346~~ was encroached upon by three uncurtained beds, of most

impoverished appearance,--while, exhibiting the ravages of time in

divers fractures, the dingy walls and ceiling, retouched by the trowel

in many places with a lighter shade of repairing material, bore no unapt

resemblance to the Pye-bald Horse in Chiswell-street! Calculating on its

utility and probable future use, the builder of the mansion had given

to this room the appendage of a chimney, but evidently it had for many

years been unconscious of its usual accompaniment, fire. Two windows had

originally admitted the light of heaven, but to reduce the duty, one

was internally blocked up, while externally uniformity was preserved. A

demolished pane of glass in the remaining window, close to which stood

a small dilapidated table, gave ingress to a current of air; the

convenient household article denominated a clothes-horse, stood against

the wall; and several parallel lines of cord were stretched across the

room, on which to hang wet linen, a garret being considered of free

access to all the house, and the comfort or health of its occupant held

in utter derision and contempt!

Here then,--

“In the worst Inn's worst room, with cobwebs hung,

The walls of plaster and the floors of dung,”

entered Dashall and his Cousin Tallyho. The latter familiarly seating

himself on the ricketty remains of what had once been an arm-chair, but

now a cripple, having lost one of its legs, the precarious equilibrium

gave way under the unaccustomed shock of the contact, and the 'Squire

came to the ground, to his no small surprise, the confusion of the poet,

and amusement of Dashall!

With many apologies for the awkwardness of their very humble

accommodation, and grateful expression of thanks for the honour

conferred upon him, the Poet replaced Tallyho in a firmer seat, and a

silence of some few moments ensued, the two friends being at a loss in

what manner to explain, and the Poet unwilling to inquire the object of

their visit.

Dashall began at last, by observing that in pursuit of the knowledge of

Real Life in London, he and his accompanying friend had met with many

incidents both ludicrous and interesting; but that in the present

instance their visit was rather influenced by sympathy than ~347~~

curiosity, and that where they could be serviceable to the interest of

merit in obscurity, they always should be happy in the exercise of a

duty so perfectly congenial with their feelings.

Many years had elapsed since the person, to whom these remarks were

addressed, had heard the voice of consolation, and its effect was

instantaneous; his usual sombre cast of countenance became brightened by

the glow of cheerful animation, and he even dwelt on the subject of his

unfortunate circumstances with jocularity:

“The elevated proximity of a garret,” he observed, “to the sublimer

regions, has often been resorted to as the _roost of genius_; and why

should I, of the most slender, if any, literary pretensions, complain?

And yet my writings, scattered amongst the various fugitive periodical

publications of this and our sister island, if collected together, would

form a very voluminous compilation.”

“I have always understood,” said Bob, “that the quality, not the

quantum, constituted the fame of an author's productions.”

“True, Sir,” answered the Poet; “and I meant not the vanity of

arrogating to myself any merit from my writings, with reference either

to quantum or quality. I alluded to the former, as merely proving the

inefficacy of mental labour in realizing the necessaries of life to an

author whom celebrity declines acknowledging. Similarly situated, it

would appear was the Dutchman mentioned by the late Doctor Walcot,

“My Broder is te poet, look,

As all te world must please,

For he heb wrote, py Got, a book

So big as all this cheese!”

“On the other hand, Collins, Hammond, and Gray, wrote each of them but

little, yet their names will descend to posterity!--And had Gray, of his

poems the _Bard_, and the _Elegy in a Country Church Yard_, written

only one, and written nothing else, he had required no other or better

passport to immortality!”{1}

1 Of that great and multitudinous writer, Doctor Samuel

Johnson, the following anecdote is told: “Being one morning

in the library at Buckingham House honoured with the

presence of Royalty, the King, his late Majesty, inquired

why he, (Mr. Johnson) did not continue to write. “May it

please your Majesty,” answered the Doctor, “I think I have

written enough.”--“I should have thought so too,” his

Majesty replied, “if, Doctor Johnson, you had not written so

well.”

~348~~ In this opinion the visitants, who were both well conversant with

our native literature, readily acquiesced.

“Have you never,” asked Dashall, “thought of publishing a volume by

subscription?”

“I meditated such intention,” answered the Poet, “not long ago; drew

up the necessary Prospectus, with a specimen of the Poetry, and

perambulated the Metropolis in search of patronage. In some few

instances I was successful, and, though limited the number, yet the high

respectability of my few Subscribers gave me inexpressible satisfaction;

several of our nobility honoured me with their names, and others, my

patrons, were of the very first class of literature. Nevertheless,

I encountered much contumelious reception; and after an irksome

and unavailing perseverance of a month's continuance, I was at last

compelled to relinquish all hope of success.

“Having then on my list the name of a very worthy Alderman who lately

filled the Civic Chair with honour to himself and advantage to his

fellow-citizens, I submitted my prospectus in an evil hour to another

Alderman, a baronet, of this here and that there notoriety!

“Waiting in his Banking-house the result of my application, he

condescended to stalk forth from the holy of holies, his inner room,

with the lofty demeanour of conscious importance, when, in the presence

of his Clerks and others, doubtless to their great edification and

amusement, the following colloquy ensued, bearing in his hand my unlucky

Prospectus, with a respectful epistle which had accompanied it:--

“Are you the writer,” he asked in a majesterial tone, “of this here

letter?”

“I am, Sir W*****m, unfortunately!”

“Then,” he continued, “you may take them there papers back again, I have

no time to read Prospectuses, and so Mister Poet my compliments, and

good morning to you!!!”

“These literally were his words; and such was the astounding effect they

produced on my mind, that, although I had meant to have passed through

the Royal Exchange, I yet, in the depth of my reverie, wandered I knew

not where, and, before recovering my recollection, found myself in the

centre of London Bridge!”

~349~~ The detail of this fact, so characteristic of rude, ungentlemanly

manners, and the barbarian ignorance of this great man of little soul,

excited against him, with Dashall and his friend, a mingled feeling of

ridicule, contempt and reprobation!

“Real Life in London still!” exclaimed Talltho; “intellect and indigence

in a garret, and wealth and ignorance in a banking-house!--I would

at least have given him, in deficiency of other means, the wholesome

castigation of reproof.”

“I did,” said the Poet, “stung to the quick by such unmerited contumely,

I retired to my attic, and produced a philippic named the Recantation:

I cannot accommodate you at present with a copy of the Poem, but the

concluding stanzas I can repeat from memory:--

“C****s, thy house in Lombard Street

Affords thee still employment meet,

Thy consequence retaining;

For there thy Partners and thy Clerks

Must listen to thy sage remarks,

Subservient, uncomplaining.

And rob'd in Aldermanic gown,

With look and language all thy own,

Thou mak'st thy hearers stare,

When this here cause, so wisely tried,

Thou put'st with self-applause aside,

To wisely try that there.

Nor can thy brother Cits forget

When thou at civic banquet sate,

And ask'd of Heaven a boon,

A toast is call'd, on thee all eyes

Intent, when peals of laughter rise--

A speedy peace and soon!

Nor yet orthography nor grammar,

Vain effort on thy pate to hammer,

Impregnable that fort is!

Witness thy toast again,--Three Cs;

For who would think that thou by these

Meant Cox, and King, and Curtis

C****s, though scant thy sense, yet Heaven

To thee the better boon hast given

Or wealth--then sense despise,

And deem not Fate's decrees amiss,

For still “where ignorance is bliss

'Tis folly to be wise!”

~350~~ “Bravo!” exclaimed Dashall; “re-issue your Prospectus, my friend,

and we will accelerate, with our best interest and influence, the

publication of your volume. Let it be dedicated to the Hon. Tom Dashall

and his Cousin Bob Tallyho. In the meanwhile, accept this trifle, as a

complimentary _douceur_ uniformly given on such occasions; and, amidst

the varied scenes of Real Life in London, I shall frequently recur to

the present as the most gratifying to my feelings.”

“By this the sun was out of sight,

And darker gloamin brought the night.”

The benevolent associates now departed, pleased with the occurrences of

the day, and, more than all, with the last, wherein the opportunity

was afforded them of extending consolation and relief to genius in

adversity!~351~~

CHAPTER XXII

........“Mark!

He who would cut the knot that does entwine

And link two loving hearts in unison,

May have man's form; but at his birth, be sure on't,

Some devil thrust sweet nature's hand aside

Ere she had pour'd her balm within his breast,

To warm his gross and earthly mould with pity.

.......I know what 'tis

When worldly knaves step in with silver beards,

To poison bliss, and pluck young souls asunder.”

TOM and his Cousin were surprised the next morning by a visit from

Mr. Mortimer and his friend Merrywell, whose dismal features and long

visages plainly indicated some unpleasant disaster, and Tom began to

fear blame would be attached to them for leaving his party at Darkhouse

Lane.

“Pray,” said Merrywell, “can you tell me where to find your friend

Sparkle?”

“Indeed,” replied Dashall, a little relieved by this question, “I am not

Sparkle's keeper; but pray be seated--what is the matter, is it a duel,

do you want a second?--I know he is a good shot.”

“This levity, Sir,” said Mortimer, “is not to be borne. The honour of a

respectable family is at stake, and must be satisfied. No doubt you,

as his very oldest friend, know where he is; and I desire you will

immediately inform me, or------”

“Sir,” said Dashall, who was as averse as unused to be desired by any

person--“do you know whom you address, and that I am in my own house?

if you do, you have certainly discarded all propriety of conduct and

language before you cross'd the threshold.”

“Gentlemen,” said Merrywell, “perhaps some explanation is really

necessary here. My friend Mortimer speaks under agonized feelings,

for which, I am sure, your good sense will make every allowance. Miss

Mortimer------”

“Miss Mortimer,” exclaimed Dashall, rising from his ~352~~ seat, “you

interest me strongly, say, what of Miss Mortimer?”

“Alas,” said Mortimer, evidently endeavouring to suppress emotions which

appeared to agitate his whole frame, and absorb every mental faculty,

“we are unable to account for her absence, and strongly suspect she is

in company with your friend Sparkle--can you give us any information

relative to either of them?”

Dashall assured them he knew nothing of the fugitives, but that he

would certainly make every inquiry in his power, if possible to find

out Sparkle. Upon which they departed, though not without hinting they

expected Tom had the power of making a search more effectually than

either Mortimer or Merrywell.

“Egad!” said Tom to Tallyho, “this absence of Sparkle means something

more than I can at present conceive; and it appears that we must

now venture forth in search of our guide. I hope he has taken a good

direction himself.”

“Mortimer appears hurt,” continued Bob, “and I can scarcely wonder at

it.”

“It is a trifle in high life now-a-days,” replied Dashall, “and my life

for it we shall obtain some clue to his mode of operation before the

day is out. Love is a species of madness, and oftentimes induces

extraordinary movements. I have discovered its existence in his breast

for some time past, and if he is really with the lady, I wonder myself

that he has not given some sort of intimation; though I know he is very

cautious in laying his plans, and very tenacious of admitting too many

persons to know his intentions, for fear of some indiscreet friend

unintentionally frustrating his designs.”

“I apprehend we shall have a wild-goose chase of it,” rejoined Bob.

“It serves however,” continued Tom, “to diversify our peregrinations;

and if it is his pleasure to be in love, we will endeavour to chase

pleasure in pursuit of the Lover, and if guided by honourable motives,

which I cannot doubt, we will wish him all the success he can wish

himself, only regretting that we are deprived of his agreeable company.

“Still free as air the active mind will rove,

And search out proper objects for its love;

But that once fix'd, 'tis past the pow'r of art

To chase the dear idea from the heart.

'Tis liberty of choice that sweetens life,

Makes the glad husband and the happy wife.”

~353~~ “But come, let us forth and see how the land lies; many persons

obtain all their notoriety from an elopement; it makes a noise in the

world, and even though frequently announced in our newspapers under

fictitious titles, the parties soon become known and are recollected

ever after; and some even acquire fame by the insertion of a paragraph

announcing an elopement, in which they insinuate that themselves are

parties; so that an elopement in high life may be considered as one of

the sure roads to popularity.”

“But not always a safe one,” replied Bob.

“Life is full of casualties,” rejoined Dashall, “and you are by

this time fully aware that it requires something almost beyond human

foresight to continue in the line of safety, while you are in pursuit of

Real Life in London. Though it may fairly be said, 'That all the world's

a stage, and all the men and women merely passengers,' still they have

their inside and their outside places, and each man in his time meets

with strange adventures. It may also very properly be termed a Camera

Obscura, reflecting not merely trees, sign-posts, houses, &c. but

the human heart in all its folds, its feelings, its passions, and its

motives. In it you may perceive conceit flirting its fan--arrogance

adjusting its cravat--pedantry perverting its dictionary--vacuity

humming a tune--vanity humming his neighbour--cunning shutting his eyes

while listening to a pedagogue--and credulity opening his eyes and ears,

willing and anxious to be deceived and duped.”

“It is a strange world, indeed,” said Tallyho; “and of all that I have

ever heard or seen, this London of your's is the most extraordinary

part.”

“Yes,--

“This world is a well-cover'd table,

Where guests are promiscuously set;

We all eat as long as we're able,

And scramble for what we can get--”

answered his Cousin; “in fact, it is like every thing, and at the same

time like nothing--~354~~

“The world is all nonsense and noise,

Fantoccini, or Ombres Chinoises,

Mere pantomime mummery

Puppet-show flummery;

A magical lantern, confounding the sight;

Like players or puppets, we move

On the wires of ambition and love;

Poets write wittily,

Maidens look prettily,

'Till death drops the curtain

--all's over--good night!”

By this time they were at Long's, where, upon inquiry, all trace of

Sparkle had been lost for two days. All was mystery and surprise, not so

much that he should be absent, as that his servant could give no account

of him, which was rather extraordinary. Tom ascertained, however, that

no suspicion appeared to have been excited as to Miss Mortimer, and,

with commendable discretion, avoided expressing a word which could

create such an idea, merely observing, that most likely he had taken an

unexpected trip into the country, and would be heard of before the day

was out.

On leaving Long's however they were met again by Mortimer in breathless

anxiety, evidently labouring under some new calamity.

“I am glad I have found you,” said he, addressing himself to Dashall;

“for I am left in this d------d wilderness of a place without a friend

to speak to.”

“How,” inquired Ton, “what the d------l is the matter with you?”

“Why, you must know that Merry well is gone--”

“Gone--where to?”

“To--to--zounds, I've forgot the name of the people; but two genteel

looking fellows just now very genteely told him he was wanted, and must

come.”

“Indeed!”

“Yes, and he told me to find you out, and let you know that he must

become a bencher; and, without more todo, walked away with his new

friends, leaving me forlorn enough. My Sister run away, my Uncle run

after her--Sparkle absent, and Merrywell--”

“In the hands of the Nab-men--I see it all clear enough; and you have

given a very concise, but comprehensive picture of your own situation;

but don't despair, man, you will yet find all right, be assured; put

yourself under my guidance, let the world wag as it will; it is useless

to torment yourself with things you cannot prevent or cure.

“The right end of life is to live and be jolly.”

~355~~ Mortimer scarcely knew how to relish this advice, and seemed to

doubt within himself whether it was meant satirically or feelingly, till

Dashall whispered in his ear a caution not to betray the circumstances

that had transpired, for his Sister's sake. “But,” continued he, “I

never suffer these things, which are by no means uncommon in London,

to interfere with my pursuits, though we are all somewhat at a loss.

However, as the post is in by this time, some news may be expected, and

we will call at home before we proceed any further.--Where do you think

the Colonel is gone to?”

“Heaven only knows,” replied Mortimer; “the whole family is in an uproar

of surmise and alarm,--what may be the end of it I know not.”

“A pretty breeze Master Sparkle has kick'd up, indeed,” continued Tom;

“but I have for some time noticed an alteration in him. He always was

a gay trump, and whenever I find him seriously inclined, I suspect

some mischief brewing; for rapid transitions always wear portentous

appearances, and your serious files are generally sly dogs. My life

for it they have stolen a march upon your Uncle, queered some country

Parson, and are by this time snugly stowed away in the harbour of

matrimony. As for Merrywell, I dare be sworn his friends will take care

of him.”

Expectation was on tiptoe as Dashall broke the seal of a letter that

was handed to him on arrival at home. Mortimer was on the fidget, and

Tallyho straining his neck upon the full stretch of anxiety to hear

the news, when Dashall burst into a laugh, but in which neither of the

others could join in consequence of not knowing the cause of it. In a

few minutes however the mystery was in some degree explained.

“Here,” said Tom, “is news--extraordinary news--an official dispatch

from head-quarters, but without any information as to where the tents

are pitched. It is but a short epistle.” He then read aloud,

“Dear Dashall,

“Please inform the Mortimer family and friends that all's well.

Your's truly,

C. Sparkle.”

Then handing the laconic epistle to Mortimer--“I trust,” said he, “you

will now be a little more at ease.”

~356~~ Mortimer eagerly examined the letter for the postmark, but was

not able to make out from whence it came.

“I confess,” said he, “I am better satisfied than I was, but am yet at

a loss to judge of the motives which have induced them to pursue so

strange a course.”

“The motive,” cried Tom, “that may be easily explained; and I doubt

not but you will find, although it may at present appear a little

mysterious, Sparkle will be fully able to shew cause and produce effect.

He is however a man of honour and of property, and most likely we may by

this time congratulate you upon the change of your Sister's name. What

a blaze it will make, and she will now most certainly become a sparkling

subject. Hang it, man, don't look so dull upon a bright occasion.

“To prove pleasure but pain, some have hit on a project,

We're duller the merrier we grow,

Exactly the same unaccountable logic

That talks of cold fire and warm snow.

For me, born by nature

For humour and satire,

I sing and I roar and I quaff;

Each muscle I twist it,

I cannot resist it,

A finger held up makes me laugh.

For since pleasure's joy's parent, and joy begets mirth,

Should the subtlest casuist or sophist on earth

Contradict me, I'd call him an ass and a calf,

And boldly insist once for all,

That the only criterion of pleasure's to laugh,

And sing tol de rol, loi de rol lol.”

This mirth of Dash all's did not seem to be in consonance with the

feelings of Mortimer, who hastily took his departure.

“Come,” said Tom to his Cousin, “having gained some information

respecting one friend, we will now take a stroll through Temple Bar, and

have a peep at Merrywell; he may perhaps want assistance in his present

situation, though I will answer for it he is in a place of perfect

security.”

“How,” said Bob--“what do you mean?”

“Mean, why the traps have nibbled him. He is arrested, and gone to a

lock-up shop, a place of mere accommodation for gentlemen to take up

their abode, for the purpose of ~357~~ arranging their affairs, and

where they can uninterruptedly make up their minds whether to give

bail, put in appearance and defend the suit, or take a trip to Abbott's

Priory; become a three months' student in the college of art, and

undergo the fashionable ceremony of white-washing.”

“I begin to understand you now,” said Bob, “and the only difference

between our two friends is, that one has willingly put on a chain for

life--”

“And the other may in all probability (continued Tom,) have to chaff his

time away with a chum--perhaps not quite so agreeable, though it really

is possible to be very comfortable, if a man can reconcile himself to

the loss of liberty, even in “durance vile.”

By this time they were walking leisurely along Piccadilly,

“And marching without any cumbersome load,

They mark'd every singular sight on the road.”

“Who is that meagre looking man and waddling woman, who just passed us?”

inquired Tallyho.

“An old Bencher,” was the reply; “there you see all that is left of a

man of _haut ton_, one who has moved in the highest circles; but alas!

bad company and bad play have reduced him to what he now is. He has cut

up and turn'd down very well among the usurers and attornies; but it is

impossible to say of him, as of his sirloin of a wife (for she cannot be

called a rib, or at all events a spare rib) that there is any thing like

cut and come again. The poor worn-out Exquisite tack'd himself to his

Lady, to enable him to wipe out a long score, and she determined on

taking him for better for worse, after a little rural felicity in a walk

to have her fortune told by a gipsy at Norwood. He is now crippled in

pocket and person, and wholly dependent upon bounty for the chance of

prolonging a miserable existence. His game is up. But what is life but a

game, at which every one is willing to play? one wins and another loses:

why there have been as many moves among titled persons, Kings, Queens,

Bishops, Lords and Knights, within the last century, as there are in a

game at chess. Pawns have been taken and restored in all classes,

from the Sovereign, who pawns or loses his crown, to the Lady whose

reputation is in pawn, and becomes at last not worth half a crown.

Shuffling, cutting, dealing out and ~358~~ dealing in, double dealing

and double faces, have long been the order of the day. Some men's cards

are all trumps, whilst others have _carte blanche_; some honours count,

whilst others stand for nothing. For instance, did not the little man

who cast up his final accounts a short time back at St. Helena, like a

Corsican conjurer, shuffle and cut about among kings and queens, knaves

and asses, (aces I mean) dealing out honours when he liked, and taking

trumps as he thought fit?--did he not deal and take up again almost as

he pleased, having generally an honour in his sleeve to be played at

command, or _un roi dans le marche_; by which cheating, it was scarcely

possible for any one to get fair play with him, till, flushed by

success, and not knowing how to bear his prosperity, he played too

desperately and too long? The tables were turned upon him, and his

enemies cheated him, first of his liberty, and ultimately of his life.”

At this moment Tallyho, who was listening in close attention to his

Cousin, struck his foot against a brown paper parcel which rolled before

him.--“Hallo!” exclaimed he, “what have we here?--somebody has dropped a

prize.”

“It is mine, Sir,” said an old woman, dropping them a curtsey with a

smile which shone through her features, though thickly begrimed with

snuff.

“A bite,” said Tom.

“I dropp'd it from my pocket, Sir, just now.”

“And pray,” inquired Tom, “what does it contain?” picking it up.

“Snuff, Sir,” was the reply; “a kind, good-hearted Gentleman gave it to

me--God bless him, and bless your Honour too!” with an additional smile,

and a still lower curtsey.

Upon examining the paper, which had been broken by the kick, Tom

perceived, that by some magic or other, the old woman's snuff had become

sugar.

“Zounds!” said he, “they have played some trick upon you, and given you

brimstone instead of snuff, or else you are throwing dust in our eyes.”

The parcel, which contained a sample of sugar, was carefully rolled up

again and tied, then dropped to be found by any body else who chose to

stoop for it.

“This,” said Dashall, “does not turn out to be what I first expected;

for the practices of ring and money ~359~~ dropping{1} have, at various

times, been carried on with great success, and to the serious injury

of the unsuspecting. The persons who generally apply themselves to this

species of cheating are no other than gamblers who ingeniously contrive,

by dropping a purse or a ring, to draw in some customer with a view to

induce him to play; and notwithstanding their arts have frequently been

exposed, we every now and then hear of some flat being done by these

sharps, and indeed there are constantly customers in London to be had

one way or another.”

“Then you had an idea that that parcel was a bait of this kind,”

rejoined Bob.

“I did,” replied his Cousin; “but it appears to be a legitimate letter

from some industrious mechanic to his friend, and is a curious specimen

of epistolary correspondence; and you perceive there was a person ready

to claim it, which conspired rather to confirm my suspicions, being a

little in the style of the gentry I have alluded to. They vary their

mode of proceeding according to situation and circumstance. Your

money-dropper contrives to find his own property, as if by chance.

He picks up the purse with an exclamation of 'Hallo! what have we

here?--Zounds! if here is not a prize--I'm in rare luck to-day--Ha,

ha, ha, let's have a peep at it--it feels heavy, and no doubt is worth

having.' While he is examining its contents, up comes his confederate,

who claims a share on account of having been present at the finding.

'Nay, nay,' replies the finder, 'you are not in it. This Gentleman is

the only person that was near me--was not you, Sir? 'By this means the

novice is induced to assent, or perhaps assert his prior claim. The

finder declares,

1 The practice of ring-dropping is not wholly confined to

London, as the following paragraph from the Glasgow Courier,

a very short time ago, will sufficiently prove:--'On Monday

afternoon, when three Highland women, who had been employed

at a distance from home in the harvest, were returning to

their habitations, they were accosted by a fellow who had

walked out a short way with them, 'till he picked up a pair

of ear-rings and a key for a watch. The fellow politely

informed the females that they should have half the value of

the articles, as they were in his company when they were

found. While they were examining them, another fellow came

up, who declared at once they were gold, and worth at least

thirty shillings. After some conversation, the women were

induced to give fifteen shillings for the articles, and came

and offered them to a watch-maker for sale, when they

learned to their mortification that they were not worth

eighteen pence!'

~360~~ that sooner than have any dispute about it, he will divide the

contents in three parts; recommends an adjournment to a public-house in

the neighbourhood, to wet the business and drink over their good luck.

This being consented to, the leading points are accomplished. The

purse of course is found to contain counterfeit money--Flash-screens or

Fleet-notes,{1} and the division cannot well be made without change can

be procured. Now comes the touch-stone. The Countryman, for such they

generally contrive to inveigle, is perhaps in cash, having sold his hay,

or his cattle, tells them he can give change; which being understood,

the draught-board, cards, or la bagatelle, are introduced, and as the

job is a good one, they can afford to sport some of their newly-acquired

wealth in this way. They drink and play, and fill their grog again. The

Countryman bets; if he loses, he is called upon to pay; if he wins, 'tis

added to what is coming to him out of the purse.

“If, after an experiment or two, they find he has but little money, or

fight shy, they bolt, that is, brush off in quick time, leaving him to

answer for the reckoning. But if he is what they term well-breeched,

and full of cash, they stick to him until he is cleaned out,{2} make him

drunk, and, if he turns restive, they mill him. If he should be an

easy cove,{3} he perhaps give them change for their flash notes, or

counterfeit coin, and they leave him as soon as possible, highly pleased

with his fancied success, while they laugh in their sleeves at the dupe

of their artifice.”

“And is it possible?” inquired Tallyho--

“Can such things be, and overcome us

Like a summer's cloud?”

“Not without our special wonder,” continued Dashall; “but such things

have been practised. Then again, your ring-droppers, or practisers of

the fawney rig, are more cunning in their manoeuvres to turn their wares

into the ready blunt.{4} The pretending to find a ring being one of the

meanest and least profitable exercises of their ingenuity, it forms a

part of their art to find articles of much more

1 Flash-screens or Fleet-notes--Forged notes.

2 Cleaned out--Having lost all your money.

3 Easy cove--One whom there is no difficulty in gulling.

4 Ready blunt--Cash in hand.

~361~~ value, such as rich jewelry, broaches, ear-rings, necklaces set

with diamonds, pearls, &c. sometimes made into a paper parcel, at others

in a small neat red morocco case, in which is stuck a bill of parcels,

giving a high-flown description of the articles, and with an extravagant

price. Proceeding nearly in the same way as the money-droppers with the

dupe, the finder proposes, as he is rather short of _steeven_,{1} to

_swap_{2}his share for a comparatively small part of the value stated in

the bill of parcels: and if he succeeds in obtaining one-tenth of that

amount in hard cash, his triumph is complete; for, upon examination, the

diamonds turn out to be nothing but paste--the pearls, fishes' eyes--and

the gold is merely polished brass gilt, and altogether of no value.

But this cannot be discovered beforehand, because the _bilk_{3} is in a

hurry, can't spare time to go to a shop to have the articles valued,

but assures his intended victim, that, as they found together, he should

like to _smack the bit_,{4 }without _blowing the gap_,{5} and so help

him G--d, the thing wants no _buttering up_,{6} because he is willing to

give his share for such a trifle.”

1 Steeven--A flash term for money.

2 Swap--To make an exchange, to barter one article for

another.

3 A swindler or cheat.

4 Smack the bit--To share the booty.

5 Blowing the gap--Making any thing known.

6 Buttering up--Praising or flattering.

This conversation was suddenly interrupted by a violent crash just

behind them, as they passed Drury Lane Theatre in their way through

Bussel Court; and Bob, upon turning to ascertain from whence such

portentous sounds proceeded, discovered that he had brought all the

Potentates of the Holy Alliance to his feet. The Alexanders, the

Caesars, the Buonapartes, Shakespeares, Addisons and Popes, lay strewed

upon the pavement, in one undistinguished heap, while a poor Italian lad

with tears in his eyes gazed with indescribable anxiety on the shapeless

ruin--' Vat shall me do?--dat man knock him down--all brokt--you

pay--Oh! mine Godt, vat shall do! ' This appeal was made to Dashall and

Tallyho, the latter of whom the poor Italian seemed to fix upon as the

author of his misfortune in upsetting his board of plaster images; and

although he was perfectly unconscious of the accident, the appeal of the

vender of great personages had its desired effect upon them both; and

~362~~ finding themselves quickly surrounded by spectators, they gave

him some silver, and then pursued their way.

“These men,” said Dashall, “are generally an industrious and hard-living

people; they walk many miles in the course of a day to find sale for

their images, which they will rather sell at any price than carry back

with them at night; and it is really wonderful how they can make a

living by their traffic.”

“Ha, ha, ha,” said a coarse spoken fellow following--“how the Jarman

Duck diddled the Dandies just now--did you twig how he queered the coves

out of seven bob for what was not worth _thrums._{1} The _Yelper_{2}

did his duty well, and finger'd the _white wool_{3} in good style. I'm

d------d if he was not up to slum, and he whiddied their wattles with

the velvet, and floored the town toddlers easy enough.”

“How do you mean?” said his companion.

“Why you know that foreign blade is an ould tyke about this quarter, and

makes a good deal of money--many a _twelver_{4} does he get by buying

up broken images of persons who sell them by wholesale, and he of course

gets them for little or nothing: then what does he do but dresses out

his board, to give them the best appearance he can, and toddles into

the streets, _touting_{5} for a good customer. The first genteel bit of

flash he meets that he thinks will dub up the possibles,{6} he dashes

down the board, breaks all the broken heads, and appeals in a pitiful

way for remuneration for his loss; so that nine times out of ten he gets

some Johnny-raw or other to stump up the rubbish.”

“Zounds!” said Dashall, “these fellows are smoking us; and, in the midst

of my instructions to guard you against the abuses of the Metropolis, we

have ourselves become the dupes of an impostor.”

1 Thrums--A flash term for threepence.

2 The Yelper--A common term given to a poor fellow subject,

who makes very pitiful lamentations on the most trifling

accidents.

3 White wool--Silver.

4 Twelver--A shilling.

5 Touting--Is to be upon the sharp look out.

6 To dub up the possibles--To stand the nonsense--are nearly

synonimous, and mean--will pay up any demand rather than be

detained.

~363~~ “Well,” said Tallyho, “it is no more than a practical

illustration of your own observation, that it is scarcely possible for

any person to be at all times secure from the arts and contrivances of

your ingenious friends the Londoners; though I confess I was little in

expectation of finding you, as an old practitioner, so easily let in.”

“It is not much to be wondered at,” continued Tom, “for here we are in

the midst of the very persons whose occupations, if such they may be

termed, ought most to be avoided; for Covent Garden, and Drury Lane,

with their neighbourhoods, are at all times infested with swindlers,

sharpers, whores, thieves, and depredators of all descriptions, for ever

on the look out. It is not long since a man was thrown from a two-pair

of stairs window in Charles Street,{1} which is just by, having been

decoyed into a house of ill fame by a Cyprian, and this in a situation

within sight of the very Police Office itself in Bow Street!”

“Huzza! ha, ha, ha, there he goes,” vociferated by a variety of voices,

now called their attention, and put an end to their conversation; and

the appearance of a large concourse of people running up Drury Lane,

engrossed their notice as they approached the other end of Russel Court.

On coming up with the crowd, they found the cause of the vast assemblage

of persons to be no other than a Quaker{2} decorated with a tri-coloured

cockade, who was

1 A circumstance of a truly alarming and distressing nature,

to which Dashall alluded in this place, was recently made

known to the public in the daily journals, and which should

serve as a lesson to similar adventurers.

It appeared that a young man had been induced to enter a

house of ill fame in Charles Street, Covent Garden, by one

of its cyprian inmates, to whom he gave some money in order

for her to provide them with supper; that, upon her return,

he desired to have the difference between what he had given

and what she had expended returned to him, which being

peremptorily refused, he determined to leave the house. On

descending the stair-case for which purpose, he was met by

some men, with whom he had a violent struggle to escape;

they beat and bruised him most unmercifully, and afterwards

threw him from a two-pair of stairs window into the street,

where he was found by the Watchman with his skull fractured,

and in a state of insensibility. We believe all attempts

have hitherto proved fruitless to bring the actual

perpetrator or perpetrators of this diabolical deed to

punishment.

2 Bow-street.--Thursday morning an eccentric personage, who

has for some time been seen about the streets of the

Metropolis in the habit of a Quaker, and wearing the tri-

coloured cockade in his broad white hat, made his appearance

at the door of this office, and presenting a large packet to

one of the officers, desired him, in a tone of authority, to

lay it instantly before the Magistrate. The Magistrate (G.

R. Minshull, Esq.) having perused this singular paper,

inquired for the person who brought it; and in the next

moment a young man, in the garb of a Quaker, with a broad-

brimmed, peaceful-looking, drab-coloured beaver on his

head, surmounted by a furious tri-coloured cockade, was

brought before him. This strange anomalous ' personage

having placed himself very carefully directly in front of

the bench, smiled complacently upon his Worship, and the

following laconic colloquy ensued forthwith:--

Magistrate--Did you bring this letter?

Quaker--Thou hast said it.

Magistrate---What is your object in bringing it?

Quaker--Merely to let thee know what is going on in the

world--and, moreover, being informed that if I came to thy

office, I should be taken into custody, I was desiroiis to

ascertain whether that information was true.

Magistrate--Then I certainly shall not gratify you by

ordering you into custody.

Quaker--Thou wilt do as seemeth right in thy eyes. I assure

thee I have no inclination to occupy thy time longer than is

profitable to us, and therefore I will retire whenever thou

shalt signify that my stay is unpleasant to thee.

Magistrate--Why do you wear your hat?--are you a Quaker?

Quaker--Thou sayest it--but that is not my sole motive for

wearing it. To be plain with thee, I wear it because I chose

to do so. Canst thee tell me of any law which compels me

to take it off?

Magistrate--I'll tell you what, friend, I would seriously

recommend you to retire from this place as speedily as

possible.

Quaker--I take thy advice--farewell.

Thus ended this comical conversation, and the eccentric

friend immediately departed in peace.

The brother of the above person attended at the office on

Saturday, and stated that the Quaker is insane, that he was

proprietor of an extensive farm near Ryegate, in Surrey, for

some years; but that in May last his bodily health being

impaired, he was confined for some time, and on his recovery

it was found that his intellects were affected, and he was

put under restraint, but recovered. Some time since he

absconded from Ryegate, and his friends were unable to

discover him, until they saw the account of his eccen-

tricities in the newspapers. Mr. Squire was desirous, if he

made his appearance again at the office, he should be

detained. The Magistrate, as a cause for the detention of

the Quaker, swore the brother to these facts. About three

o'clock the Quaker walked up Bow-street, when an officer

conducted him to the presence of the Magistrate, who

detained him, and at seven o'clock delivered him into the

care of his brother.

~365~~ very quietly walking with a Police Officer, and exhibiting a

caricature of himself mounted on a velocipede, and riding over

corruption, &c. It was soon ascertained that he had accepted an

invitation from one of the Magistrates of Bow Street to pay him a visit,

as he had done the day before, and was at that moment going before him.

“I apprehend he is a little cracked,” said Tom; “but however that may

be, he is a very harmless sort of person. But come, we have other game

in view, and our way lies in a different direction to his.”

“Clothes, Sir, any clothes to-day?” said an importunate young fellow at

the corner of one of the courts, who at the same time almost obstructed

their passage.

Making their way as quickly as they could from this very pressing

personage, who invited them to walk in.

“This,” said Tom, “is what we generally call a _Barker_. I believe the

title originated with the Brokers in Moor-fields, where men of this

description parade in the fronts of their employers' houses, incessantly

pressing the passengers to walk in and buy household furniture, as they

do clothes in Rosemary Lane, Seven Dials, Field Lane, Houndsditch, and

several other parts of the town. Ladies' dresses also used to be barked

in Cranbourn Alley and the neighbourhood of Leicester Fields; however,

the nuisance has latterly in some measure abated. The Shop-women in that

part content themselves now-a-days by merely inviting strangers to look

at their goods; but Barkers are still to be found, stationed at the

doors of Mock Auctions, who induce company to assemble, by bawling “Walk

in, the auction is now on,” or “Just going to begin.” Of these mock

auctions, there have been many opened of an evening, under the imposing

glare of brilliant gas lights, which throws an unusual degree of lustre

upon the articles put up for sale. It is not however very difficult to

distinguish them from the real ones, notwithstanding they assume all the

exterior appearances of genuineness, even up to advertisements in the

newspapers, purporting to be held in the house of a person lately gone

away under embarrassed circumstances, or deceased. They are denominated

Mock Auctions, because no real intention exists on the part of the

sellers to dispose of their articles under a certain price previously

fixed upon, which, although it may not be high, is invariably more than

they are actually worth: besides which, they may be easily discovered by

the anxiety they evince to show the goods to strangers at

~366~~the moment they enter, never failing to bestow over-strained

panegyrics upon every lot they put up, and asking repeatedly--“What

shall we say for this article? a better cannot be produced;” and

promising, if not approved of when purchased, to change it. The

Auctioneer has a language suited to all companies, and, according to his

view of a customer, can occasionally jest, bully, or perplex him into

a purchase.--“The goods must be sold at what they will fetch;” and

he declares (notwithstanding among his confederates, who stand by as

bidders, they are run up beyond the real value, in order to catch a

flat,) that “the present bidding can never have paid the manufacturer

for his labour.”

In such places, various articles of silver, plate, glass and household

furniture are exposed to sale, but generally made up of damaged

materials, and slight workmanship of little intrinsic value, for the

self-same purpose as the Razor-seller states--

“Friend, (cried the Razor-man) I'm no knave;

As for the razors you have bought,

Upon my soul! I never thought

That they would shave.”

“Not shave!” quoth Hodge, with wond'ring eyes,

And voice not much unlike an Indian yell;

“What were they made for then, you dog?” he cries.

“Made! (quoth the fellow with a smile) to sell.”

Passing the end of White Horse Yard--“Here,” continued Tom, “in this

yard and the various courts and alleys which lead into it, reside

numerous Girls in the very lowest state of prostitution; and it is

dangerous even in the day time to pass their habitations, at all

events very dangerous to enter any one of them. Do you see the crowd

of squalid, half-clad and half-starved creatures that surround the old

woman at the corner?--Observe, that young thing without a stocking is

stealing along with a bottle in one hand and a gown in the other; she is

going to put the latter _up the spout_{1} with her

1 Up the spout, or up the five--Are synonimous in their

import, and mean the act of pledging property with a

Pawnbroker for the loan of money--most probably derived from

the practice of having a long spout, which reaches from the

top of the house of the Pawn-broker (where the goods are

deposited for safety till redeemed or sold) to the shop,

where they are first received; through which a small bag is

dropped upon the ringing of a bell, which conveys the

tickets or duplicates to a person above stairs, who, upon

finding them, (unless too bulky) saves himself the trouble

and loss of time of coming down stairs, by more readily

conveying them down the spout.

~367~~ accommodating _Uncle,_{1} in order to obtain a little of the

enlivening juice of the juniper to fill the former.”

1 Uncle, sometimes called the Ferrit, or the Flint--Cant

terms for Pawnbroker, though many of these gentlemen now

assume the more reputable appellation of Silversmiths. They

are willing to lend money upon all sorts of articles of

household furniture, linen, plate, wearing apparel,

jewellery, &c. with a certainty of making a very handsome

profit upon the money so circulated.

There are in this Metropolis upwards of two hundred and

thirty Pawnbrokers, and in some cases they are a useful and

serviceable class of people; and although doubtless many of

them are honest and reputable persons, there are still among

them a class of sharpers and swindlers, who obtain licences

to carry on the business, and bring disgrace upon the

respectable part of the profession. Every species of fraud

which can add to the distresses of those who are compelled

to raise temporary supplies of money is resorted to, and for

which purpose there are abundance of opportunities. In many

instances however the utility of these persons, in

preventing a serious sacrifice of property, cannot be

denied; for, by advancing to tradesmen and mechanics

temporary loans upon articles of value at a period of

necessity, an opportunity of redeeming them is afforded,

when by their industrious exertions their circumstances are

improved. Many of them however are receivers of stolen

good.s, and, under cover of their licence, do much harm to

the public. Indeed, the very easy mode of raising money by

means of the Pawnbrokers, operates as an inducement, or at

least an encouragement, to every species of vice. The

fraudulent tradesman by their means is enabled to raise

money on the goods of his creditors, the servant to pledge

the property of his employer, and the idle or profligate

mechanic to deposit his working tools, or his work in an

unfinished state. Many persons in London are in the habit of

pawning their apparel from Monday morning till Saturday

night, when they are redeemed, in order to make a decent

appearance on the next day. In low neighbourhoods, and among

loose girls, much business is done by Pawnbrokers to good

advantage; and considerable emolument is derived from women

of the town. The articles they offer to pledge are generally

of the most costly nature, and the pilferings of the night

are usually placed in the hands of an Uncle the next

morning; and the wary money-lenders, fully acquainted with

their necessities, just lend what they please; by which

means they derive a wonderful profit, from the almost

certainty of these articles never being redeemed.

The secresy with which a Pawnbroker's business is conducted,

though very proper for the protection of the honest and

well-meaning part of the population, to shield them from an

exposure which might perhaps prove fatal to their business or

credit, admits of great room for fraud on the part of the

Money-lender; more particularly as it respects the interest

allowed upon the pawns. Many persons are willing to pay any

charge made, rather than expose their necessities by

appearing before a Magistrate, and acknowledging they have

been concerned in such transactions.

Persons who are in the constant habit of pawning are

generally known by the Pawnbrokers, in most instances

governed by their will, and compelled to take and pay just

what they please. Again, much injury arises from the want of

care in the Pawnbroker to require a proper account, from the

Pledgers, of the manner in which the goods offered have been

obtained, as duplicates are commonly given upon fictitious

names and residences.

Notwithstanding the care and attention usually paid to the

examination of the articles received as pledges, these

gentlemen are sometimes to be duped by their customers. We

remember an instance of an elderly man, who was in the habit

of bringing a Dutch clock frequently to a Pawnbroker to

raise the wind, and for safety, generally left it in a large

canvass bag, till he became so regular a customer, that his

clock and bag were often left without inspection; and as it

was seldom deposited for long together, it was placed in

some handy nook of the shop in order to lie ready for

redemption. This system having been carried on for some

time, no suspicion was entertained of the old man. Upon one

occasion however the Pawnbroker's olfactory nerves were

saluted with a smell of a most unsavoury nature, for which

he could by no means account--day after day passed, and no

discovery was made, till at length he determined to overhaul

every article in his shop, and if possible discover the

source of a nuisance which appeared rather to increase than

abate: in doing which, to his utter astonishment, he found

the old man's Dutch clock trans-formed into a sheep's head,

enclosed in a small box similar in shape and size to that of

the clock. It will scarcely be necessary to add, that, being

in the heat of summer, the sheep's head when turned out was

in a putrid state, and as green as grass. The Pawn-broker

declared the old gentleman's works were out of repair, that

he himself was out of tune, and eventually pledged himself

never to be so taken in again. After all, however, it must

be acknowledged that my Uncle is a very accommodating man.

“My Uncle's the man, I've oft said it before,

Who is ready and willing to open his door;

Tho' some on the question may harbour a doubt,

He's a mill to grind money, which I call a spout.

Derry down.

He has three golden balls which hang over his door,

Which clearly denote that my Uncle's not poor;

He has money to lend, and he's always so kind,

He will lend it to such as leave something behind.

Derry down.

If to music inclin'd, there's no man can so soon

Set the hooks of your gamut to excellent tune;

All his tickets are prizes most carefully book'd,

And your notes must be good, or you're presently hook'd.

Derry down.

Shirts, shoes, and flat-irons, hats, towels, and ruffs,

To him are the same as rich satins or stuffs;

From the pillows you lay on, chairs, tables, or sacks,

He'll take all you have, to the togs on your backs.

Derry down.

Then ye who are needy, repair to your friend,

Who is ready and willing your fortunes to mend;

He's a purse full of rhino, and that's quite enough,

Tho' short in his speech, he can shell out short stuff.

Derry down.

What a blessing it is, in this place of renown

To know that we have such an Uncle in town;

In all cases, degrees, in all places and stations,

'Tis a good thing to know we've such friendly relations.

Derry down.

“Surely,” said Tallyho, “no person could possibly be inveigled by her

charms?”

~369~~ “They are not very blooming just now,” answered his Cousin--“you

do not see her in a right light. It is impossible to contemplate

the cases of these poor creatures without dropping a tear of pity.

Originally seduced from a state of innocence, and eventually abandoned

by their seducers, as well as their well-disposed parents or friends,

they are left at an early age at large upon the world; loathed and

avoided by those who formerly held them in estimation, what are they to

do?--It is said by Shakespeare, that

“Sin will pluck on sin.”

They seem to have no alternative, but that of continuing in the practice

which they once too fatally begun, in which the major part of them end a

short life of debauchery and wretchedness.

“Exposed to the rude insults of the inebriated and the vulgar--the

impositions of brutal officers and watchmen--to the chilling blasts of

the night during the most inclement weather, in thin apparel, partly in

compliance with the fashion of the day, but more frequently from the

~370~~ Pawnbroker's shop rendering their necessary garments

inaccessible, diseases (where their unhappy vocation does not produce

them) are thus generated.

“Many are the gradations from the highest degree of prostitution down

to the trulls that parade the streets by day, and one or two more

steps still include those who keep out all night. Some of the miserable

inhabitants of this quarter are night-birds, who seldom leave their beds

during the day, except to refresh themselves with a drop of Old Tom; but

as the evening approaches, their business commences, when you will see

them decked out like fine ladies, for there are _coves of cases_,{1} and

others in the vicinity of the Theatres, who live by letting out dresses

for the evening, where they may be accommodated from a camesa{2} to a

richly embroidered full-dress court suit, under the care of spies, who

are upon the look-out that they don't brush off with the stock. Others,

again, are boarded and lodged by the owners of houses of ill-fame, kept

as dirty and as ragged as beggars all day, but who,

“Dress'd out at night, cut a figure.”

It however not unfrequently happens to those unhappy Girls who have not

been successful in their pursuits, and do not bring home with them the

wages of their prostitution, that they are sent to bed without supper,

and sometimes get a good beating into the bargain; besides which, the

Mistress of the house takes care to search them immediately after they

are left by their gallants, by which means they are deprived of every

shilling.”

Approaching the City, they espied a crowd of persons assembled together

round the door of Money the perfumer. Upon inquiring, a species of

depreciation was exposed, which had not yet come under their view.

It appeared that a note, purporting to come from a gentleman at the

Tavistock Hotel, desiring Mr. Money to wait on him to take measure of

his cranium for a fashionable peruke, had drawn him from home, and that

during his absence, a lad, in breathless haste, as if dispatched by the

principal, entered the shop, stating that Sir. Money wanted a wig which

was in the window, with some combs and hair-brushes, for the Gentleman's

inspection, and also a pot of his Circassian cream. The bait took, the

articles

1 Coves of cases--Keepers of houses of ill fame.

2 Camesa--A shirt or shift.

~371~~ were packed up, and the wily cheat had made good his retreat

before the return of the coiffeur, who was not pleased with being

seduced from his home by a hoaxing letter, and less satisfied to find

that his property was diminished in his absence by the successful

artifices of a designing villain. This tale having got wind in the

neighbourhood, persons were flocking round him to advise as to the mode

of pursuit, and many were entertaining each other by relations of a

similar nature; but our heroes having their friend Merrywell in view (or

rather his interest) made the best of their way to the Lock-up-house.

CHAPTER XXIII

“The world its trite opinion holds of those

That in a world apart these bars enclose;

And thus methinks some sage, whose wisdom frames

Old saws anew, complacently exclaims,

Debt is like death--it levels all degrees;

Their prey with death's fell grasp the bailiffs seize.”

ON entering the Lock-up House, Bob felt a few uneasy sensations at

hearing the key turned. The leary Bum-trap ushered the Gemmen up stairs,

while Tallyho was endeavouring to compose his agitated spirits, and

reconcile himself to the prospect before him, which, at the moment, was

not of the most cheering nature.

“What, my gay fellow,” said Merry well, “glad to see you--was just going

to scribble a line to inform you of my disaster. Zounds! you look as

melancholy as the first line of an humble petition, or the author of a

new piece the day after its damnation.”

“In truth,” replied Bob, “this is no place to inspire a man with high

spirits.”

“That's as it may be,” rejoined Merry well; “a man with money in his

pocket may see as much Real Life in London within these walls as those

who ramble at large through the mazes of what is termed liberty.”

“But,” continued Tom, “it must be admitted that the views are more

limited.”

“By no means,” was the reply. “Here a man is at perfect liberty to

contemplate and cogitate without fear of being agitated. Here he may

trace over past recollections, and enjoy future anticipations free from

the noise and bustle of crowded streets, or the fatigue of attending

fashionable routs, balls, and assemblies. Besides which, it forms so

important a part of Life in London, that few without a residence in

a place of this kind can imagine its utility. It invigorates genius,

concentrates ingenuity, and stimulates invention.”

~373~~ “Hey dey!” said Tallyho, looking out of the window, and

perceiving a dashing tandem draw up to the door--“who have we here? some

high company, no doubt.”

“Yes, you are right; that man in the great coat, who manages his cattle

with such dexterity, is no other than the king of the castle. He is

the major domo, or, in other words, the Bailiff himself. That short,

stout-looking man in boots and buckskins, is his assistant, vulgarly

called his Bum.{1} The other is a Gentleman desirous of lodging in

a genteel neighbourhood, and is recommended by them to take up his

residence here.”

“What,” inquired Bob, “do Bailiffs drive gigs and tandems?”

“To be sure they do,” was the reply; “formerly they were low-bred

fellows, who would undertake any dirty business for a maintenance, as

you will see them represented in the old prints and caricatures, muffled

up in Îreat coats, and carrying bludgeons; but, in present Real life,

you will find them quite the reverse, unless they find it necessary

to assume a disguise in order to nibble a queer cove who proves shy of

their company'; but among Gentlemen, none are so stylish, and at the

same time so accommodating--you are served with the process in a

private and elegant way, and if not convenient to come to an immediate

arrangement, a gig is ready in the highest taste, to convey you from

your habitation to your place of retirement, and you may pass through

the most crowded streets of the city, and recognise your friends,

without fear of suspicion. Upon some occasions, they will also carry

their politeness so far as to inform an individual he will be wanted

on such a day, and must come--a circumstance which has the effect of

preventing any person from knowing the period of departure, or the place

of destination; consequently, the arrested party is gone out of town for

a few days, and the matter all blows over without any injury sustained.

This is the third time since I have been in the house that the tandem

has started from the door, and returned with a new importation.”

By this time, the gig having been discharged of its cargo, was

reascended by the Master and his man, and bowl'd off again in gay style

for the further accommodation of fashionable friends, whose society was

in such high

1 See Bum-trap), page 166.

~374~~ estimation, that no excuse or denial could avail, and who being

so urgently wanted, must come.

“'Tis a happy age we live in,” said Merry well; “the improvements are

evident enough; every thing is done with so much facility and gentility,

that even the race of bailiffs are transformed from frightful and

ferocious-looking persons to the most dashing, polite and accommodating

characters in the world. He however, like others, must have his

assistant, and occasional substitute.

“A man in this happy era is really of no use whatever to himself. It

is a principle on which every body, that is any body, acts, that no one

should do any thing for himself, if he can procure another to do it for

him. Accordingly, there is hardly the most simple performance in nature

for the more easy execution of which an operator or machine of some

kind' or other is not employed or invented; and a man who has had the

misfortune to lose, or chuses not to use any of his limbs or senses,

may meet with people ready to perform all their functions for him, from

paring his nails and cutting his corns, to forming an opinion. No man

cleans his own teeth who can afford to pay a dentist; and hundreds get

their livelihood by shaving the chins and combing the hair of their

neighbours, though many, it must be admitted, comb their neighbour's

locks for nothing. The powers of man and the elements of nature even are

set aside, the use of limbs and air being both superseded by steam; in

short, every thing is done by proxy--death not excepted, for we are told

that our soldiers and sailors die for us. Marriage in certain ranks is

on this footing. A prince marries by proxy, and sometimes lives for

ever after as if he thought all the obligations of wedlock were to be

performed in a similar manner. A nobleman, it is true, will here take

the trouble to officiate in the first instance in person; but there are

plenty of cases to shew that nothing is further from his noble mind than

the idea of continuing his slavery, while others can be found to take

the labour off his hands. So numerous are the royal roads to every

desideratum, and so averse is every true gentleman from doing any thing

for himself, that it is to be dreaded lest it should grow impolite to

chew one's own victuals; and we are aware that there are great numbers

who, not getting their share of Heaven's provision, may be said to

submit to have their food eat for them.”

~375~~ Tallyho laugh'd, and Dashall signified his assent to the

whimsical observations of Merrywell, by a shrug of the shoulders and an

approving smile.

“Apropos,” said Merrywell--“what is the news of our friend Sparkle?”

“O, (replied Tom) he is for trying a chance in the Lottery of Life, and

has perhaps by this time gained the prize of Matrimony:{1} but what part

of the globe he inhabits it is impossible for me to say--however, he is

with Miss Mortimer probably on the road to Gretna.”

“Success to his enterprise,” continued Merrywell; “and if they are

destined to travel through life together, may they have thumping luck

and pretty children. Marriage to some is a bitter cup of continued

misery--may the reverse be his lot.”

“Amen,” responded Dashall.

“By the way,” said Merrywell, “I hope you will favour me with your

company for the afternoon, and I doubt not we shall start some game

within these walls well worthy of pursuit; and as I intend to remove to

more commodious apartments within a day or two, I shall certainly expect

to have a visit from you during my abode in the county of Surrey.”

“Going to College?” inquired Tom.

“Yes; I am off upon a sporting excursion for a month or two, and I

have an idea of making it yield both pleasure and profit. An occasional

residence in Abbot's Park is one of the necessary measures for the

completion of a Real Life in London education. It is a fashionable

retreat absolutely necessary, and therefore I have voluntarily

determined upon it. What rare advice a young man may pick up in the

precincts of the Fleet and

1 It has often been said figuratively, that marriage is a lottery; but

we do not recollect to have met with a practical illustration of the

truth of the simile before the following, which is a free translation of

an Advertisement in the Louisiana Gazette:--

“A young man of good figure and disposition, unable though

“desirous to procure a Wife without the preliminary trouble of

“amassing a fortune, proposes the following expedient to obtain the

“object of his wishes:--He offers himself as the prize of a Lottery

“to all Widows and Virgins under 32: the number of tickets to be

“600 at 50 dollars each; but one number to be drawn from the

“wheel, the fortunate proprietor of which is to be entitled to

“himself and the 30,000 dollars.”--New York, America.

~376~~ the King's Bench! He may soon learn the art of sharp-shooting and

skirmishing.”

“And pray,” says Tallyho, “what do you term skirmishing?”

“I will tell you,” was the reply. “When you have got as deeply in debt

every where as you can, you may still remain on the town as a Sunday-man

for a brace of years, and with good management perhaps longer. Next

you may toddle off to Scotland for another twelvemonth, and live in the

sanctuary of Holyrood House, after seeing the North, where writs will

not arrive in time to touch you. When tired of this, and in debt even in

the sanctuary, and when you have worn out all your friends by borrowing

of them to support you in style there, you can brush off on a Sunday to

the Isle of Man, where you are sure to meet a parcel of blades who will

be glad of your company if you are but a pleasant fellow. Here you may

live awhile upon them, and get in debt (if you can, for the Manx-men

have very little faith,) in the Island. From this, you must lastly

effect your escape in an open boat, and make your appearance in London

as a new face. Here you will find some flats of your acquaintance very

glad to see you, even if you are indebted to them, from the pleasures

of recollection accruing from past scenes of jollity and merriment.

You must be sure to amuse them with a good tale of a law-suit, or the

declining health of a rich old Uncle, from either of which you are

certain of deriving a second fortune. Now manage to get arrested, and

you will find some, who believe your story, ready to bail you. You can

then put off these actions for two years more, and afterwards make a

virtue of surrendering yourself in order to relieve your friends, who of

course will begin to be alarmed, and feel so grateful for this supposed

mark of propriety, that they will support you for a while in prison,

until you get white-washed. In all this experience, and with such a long

list of acquaintances, it will be hard if some will not give you a lift

at getting over your difficulties. Then you start again as a nominal

Land-surveyor, Money-scrivener, Horse-dealer, or as a Sleeping-partner

in some mercantile concern--such, for instance, as coals, wine, &c. Your

popularity and extensive acquaintance will get your Partner a number

of customers, and then if you don't succeed, you have only to become a

Bankrupt, secure your certificate, and start free again in some other

line. Then ~377~~ there are other good chances, for a man may marry once

or twice. Old or sickly women are best suited for the purpose, and their

fortunes will help you for a year or two at least, if only a thousand or

two pounds. Lastly, make up a purse» laugh at the flats, and finish on

the Continent.”

“Very animated description indeed,” cried Dashall, “and salutary advice,

truly.”

“Too good to be lost,” continued Merrywell.

“And yet rather too frequently acted on, it is to be feared.”

“Probably so--”

“But mark me, this is fancy's sketch,” and may perhaps appear a little

too highly coloured; but if you remain with me, we will clip deeper into

the reality of the subject by a little information from the official

personage himself, who holds dominion over these premises; and we may

perhaps also find some agreeable and intelligent company in his house.”

This proposition being agreed to, and directions given accordingly by

Merrywell to prepare dinner, our party gave loose to opinions of life,

observations on men and mariners, exactly as they presented themselves

to the imagination of each speaker, and Merrywell evidently proved

himself a close observer of character.

“Places like this,” said he, “are generally inhabited by the profligate

of fashion, the ingenious artist, or the plodding mechanic. The first

is one who cares not who suffers, so he obtains a discharge from his

incumberances: having figured away for some time in the labyrinths of

folly and extravagance, till finding the needful run taper, he yields

to John Doe and Richard Roe as a matter of course, passes through his

degrees in the study of the laws by retiring to the Fleet or King's

Bench, and returns to the world with a clean face, and an increased

stock of information to continue his career. The second are men who

have heads to contrive and hands to execute improvements in scientific

pursuits, probably exhausting their time, their health, and their

property, in the completion of their projects, but who are impeded in

their progress, and compelled to finish their intentions in durance

vile, by the rapacity of their creditors. And the last are persons

subjected to all the casualties of trade and the arts of the former, and

unable to meet the peremptory demands of ~378~~ those they are indebted

to; but they seldom inhabit these places long, unless they can pay

well for their accommodations. Money is therefore as useful in a

lock-up-house or a prison as in any other situation of life.

“Money, with the generality of people, is every thing; it is the

universal Talisman; there is magic in its very name. It ameliorates all

the miserable circumstances of life, and the sound of it may almost be

termed life itself. It is the balm, the comfort, and the restorative.

It must indeed be truly mortifying to the opulent, to observe that the

attachment of their dependents, and even the apparent esteem of their

friends, arises from the respect paid to riches. The vulgar herd bow

with reverence and respect before the wealthy; but it is in fact

the money, and not the individual, which they worship. Doubtless, a

philosophic Tallow-chandler would hasten from the contemplation of the

starry heavens to vend a farthing rushlight; and it therefore cannot

be wondered at that the Sheriffs-officer, who serves you with a writ

because you have not money enough to discharge the just demands against

you, should determine at least to get as much as he can out of you, and,

when he finds your resources exhausted, that he should remove you to the

common receptacle of debtors; which however cannot be done to your own

satisfaction without some money; for if you wish a particular place of

residence, or the most trifling accommodation, there are fees to pay,

even on entering a prison.”

“In that case then,” said Tallyho, “a man is actually obliged to pay for

going to a prison.”

“Precisely so, unless he is willing to mingle with the very lowest order

of society. But come, we will walk into the Coffee-room, and take a view

of the inmates.”

Upon entering this, which was a small dark room, they heard a great

number of voices, and in one corner found several of the prisoners

surrounding a Bagatelle-board, and playing for porter, ale, &c; in

another corner was a young man in close conversation with an

Attorney; and a little further distant, was a hard-featured man taking

instructions from the Turnkey how to act. Here was a poor Player, who

declared he would take the benefit of the Act, and afterwards take a

benefit at the Theatre to reestablish himself. There a Poet racking

his imagination, and roving amidst the flowers of fancy, giving a few

touches by way of finish to an Ode to Liberty, with the ~379~~ produce

of which he indulged himself in a hope of obtaining the subject of his

Muse. The conversation was of a mingled nature. The vociferations of the

Bagatelle-players--the whispers of the Attorney and his Client--and the

declarations of the prisoner to the Turnkey, “That he would be d------d

if he did not sarve 'em out, and floor the whole boiling of them,”

were now and then interrupted by the notes of a violin playing the most

lively airs in an animated and tasteful style. The Performer however was

not visible, but appeared to be so near, that Merrywell, who was a great

lover of music, beckoned his friends to follow him. They now entered a

small yard at the back of the house, the usual promenade of those who

resided in it, and found the Musician seated on one of the benches,

which were continued nearly round the yard, and which of itself formed

a panorama of rural scenery. Here was the bubbling cascade and the lofty

fountain--there the shady grove of majestic poplars, and the meandering

stream glittering in the resplendent lustre of a rising sun. The waving

foliage however and the bubbling fountain were not to be seen or heard,

(as these beauties were only to be contemplated in the labours of the

painter;) but to make up for the absence of these with the harmony

of the birds and the ripplings of the stream, the Musician was

endeavouring, like an Arcadian shepherd with his pipe, to make the

woods resound with the notes of his fiddle, surrounded by some of his

fellow-prisoners, who did not fail to applaud his skill and reward his

kindness, by supplying him with rosin, as they termed it, which was by

handing him the heavy-wet as often as they found his elbow at rest. In

one place was to be seen a Butcher, who upon his capture was visited by

his wife with a child in her arms, upon whom the melody seemed to have

no effect. She was an interesting and delicate-looking woman, whose

agitation of spirits upon so melancholy an occasion were evidenced by

streaming tears from a pair of lovely dark eyes; and the Butcher, as

evidently forgetful of his usual calling, was sympathising with, and

endeavouring to soothe her into composure, and fondling the child. In

another, a person who had the appearance of an Half-pay Officer, with

Hessian boots, blue pantaloons, and a black silk handkerchief, sat with

his arms folded almost without taking notice of what was passing around

him, though a rough Sailor with a pipe in his mouth occasionally ~380~~

enlivened the scene by accompanying the notes of the Musician with a

characteristic dance, which he termed a Horn-spike.

It was a fine scene of Real Life, and after taking a few turns in the

gardens of the Lock-up or Sponging-house, they returned to Merrywell's

apartments, which they had scarcely entered, when the tandem drew up to

the door.

“More company,” said Merry well.

“And perhaps the more the merrier,” replied Tom.

“That is as it may prove,” was the reply; “for the company of this

house ace as various at times as can be met with in any other situation.

However, this appears to wear the form of one of our fashionable,

high-life Gentlemen; but appearances are often deceitful, we shall

perhaps hear more of him presently--he may turn out to be one of the

prodigals who calculate the duration of life at about ten years, that

is, to have a short life and a merry one.”

“That seems to me to be rather a short career, too,” exclaimed Bob.

“Nay, nay, that is a long calculation, for it frequently cannot be made

to last half the number. In the first place, the Pupil learns every kind

of extravagance, which he practises en maitre the two next years. These

make an end of his fortune. He lives two more on credit, established

while his property lasted. The next two years he has a letter of

licence, and contrives to live by ways and means (for he has grown

comparatively knowing.) Then he marries, and the wife has the honour

of discharging his debts, her fortune proving just sufficient for the

purpose. Then he manages to live a couple of years more on credit, and

retires to one of his Majesty's prisons.”

By this time Mr. Safebind made his appearance, and with great politeness

inquired if the Gentlemen were accommodated in the way they wished?

Upon being assured of this, and requested to take a seat, after some

introductory conversation, he gave them the following account of himself

and his business:--

“We have brought nine Gemmen into the house this morning; and, though I

say it, no Gemman goes out that would have any objection to come into it

again.”

Tallyho shrugg'd up his shoulders in a way that seemed to imply a doubt.

~381~~ “For,” continued he, “a Gemman that is a Gemman shall always find

genteel treatment here. I always acts upon honour and secrecy; and if as

how a Gemman can't bring his affairs into a comfortable shape here, why

then he is convey'd away without exposure, that is, if he understands

things.”

With assurances of this kind, the veracity of which no one present could

doubt, they were entertained for some time by their loquacious Host,

who, having the gift of the gab,{1} would probably have continued long

in the same strain of important information; when dinner was placed on

the table, and they fell to with good appetites, seeming almost to have

made use of the customary grace among theatricals.{2}

“The table cleared, the frequent glass goes round, And joke and song and

merriment abound.”

“Your house,” said Dashall, “might well be termed the Temple of the

Arts, since their real votaries are so frequently its inhabitants.”

“Very true, Sir,” said Safebind, “and as the Poet observes, it is as

often graced by the presence of the devotees to the Sciences: in point

of company he says we may almost call it multum in parvo, or the Camera

Obscura of Life. There are at this time within these walls, a learned

Alchymist, two Students in Anatomy, and a Physician--a Poet, a Player,

and a Musician. The Player is an adept at mimicry, the Musician a good

player, and the Poet no bad stick at a rhyme; all anxious to turn their

talents to good account, and, when mingled together, productive

of harmony, though the situation they are in at present is rather

discordant to their feelings; but then you know 'tis said, that discord

is the soul of harmony, and they knocked up a duet among themselves

yesterday, which I thought highly amusing.”

“I am fond of music,” said Merry well--“do you think they would take a

glass of wine with us?”

1 Gift of the gab--Fluency of speech.

2 It is a very common thing among the minor theatricals,

when detained at rehearsals, &c. to adjourn to some

convenient room in the neighbourhood for refreshment, and

equally common for them to commence operations in a truly

dramatic way, by ex-claiming to each other in the language

of Shakespeare,

“Come on, Macbeth--come on, Macduff,

And d-----d be he who first cries--hold, enough.”

~382~~ “Most readily, no doubt,” was the reply. “I will introduce them

in a minute.” Thus saying, he left the room, and in a very few minutes

returned with the three votaries of Apollo, who soon joined in the

conversation upon general subjects. The Player now discovered his

loquacity; the Poet his sagacity; and the Musician his pertinacity,

for he thought no tones so good as those produced by himself, nor no

notes--we beg pardon, none but bank notes--equal to his own.

It will be sufficient for our present purpose to add, that the

bottle circulated 'quickly, and what with the songs of the Poet, the

recitations of the Player, and the notes of the Fiddler, time, which

perfects all intellectual ability, and also destroys the most stupendous

monuments of art, brought the sons of Apollo under the table, and

admonished Dashall and his Cousin to depart; which they accordingly

did, after a promise to see their friend Merry well in his intended new

quarters.~383~~

CHAPTER XXIV

“All nations boast some men of nobler mind,

Their scholars, heroes, benefactors kind:

And Britain has her share among the rest,

Of men the wisest, boldest and the best:

Yet we of knaves and fools have ample share,

And eccentricities beyond compare.

Full many a life is spent, and many a purse,

In mighty nothings, or in something worse.”

THE next scene which Tom was anxious to introduce to his Cousin's

notice was that of a Political Dinner; but while they were preparing for

departure, a letter arrived which completely satisfied the mind of the

Hon. Tom Dashall as to the motives and views of their friend Sparkle,

and ran as follows:

“Dear Dashall,

“Having rivetted the chains of matrimony on the religious anvil of

Gretna Green, I am now one of the happiest fellows in existence.

My election is crowned with success, and I venture to presume all

after-petitions will be rejected as frivolous and vexatious. The once

lovely Miss Mortimer is now the ever to be loved Mrs. Sparkle. I shall

not now detain your attention by an account of our proceedings or

adventures on the road: we shall have many more convenient opportunities

of indulging in such details when we meet, replete as I can assure you

they are with interest.

“I have written instructions to my agent in town for the immediate

disposal of my paternal estate in Wiltshire, and mean hereafter to take

up my abode on one I have recently purchased in the neighbourhood of

Belville Hall, where I anticipate many pleasurable opportunities

of seeing you and our friend Tallyho surrounding my hospitable and

(hereafter) family board. We shall be there within a month, as we mean

to reach our place of destination by easy stages, and look about us.

“Please remember me to all old friends in Town, and believe as ever,

Your's truly,

“Charles Sparkle.”

“Carlisle.”

~384 ~~ The receipt of this letter and its contents were immediately

communicated to young Mortimer, who had already received some

intelligence of a similar nature, which had the effect of allaying

apprehension and dismissing fear for his Sister's safety. The mysterious

circumstances were at once explained, and harmony was restored to the

previously agitated family.

“I am truly glad of this information,” said Tom, “and as we are at

present likely to be politically engaged, we cannot do less than take a

bumper or two after dinner, to the health and happiness of the Candidate

who so emphatically observes, he has gained his election, and, in the

true language of every Patriot, declares he is the happiest man alive,

notwithstanding the rivets by which he is bound.”

“You are inclined to be severe,” said Tallyho.

“By no means,” replied Dashall; “the language of the letter certainly

seems a little in consonance with my observation, but I am sincere in my

good wishes towards the writer and his amiable wife. Come, we must now

take a view of other scenes, hear long speeches, drink repeated bumpers,

and shout with lungs of leather till the air resounds with peals of

approbation.

“We shall there see and hear the great men of the nation, Or at least

who are such in their own estimation.”

“Great in the name a patriot father bore,

Behold a youth of promise boldly soar,

Outstrip his fellows, clamb'ring height extreme,

And reach to eminence almost supreme.

With well-worn mask, and virtue's fair pretence,

And all the art of smooth-tongued eloquence,

He talks of wise reform, of rights most dear,

Till half the nation thinks the man sincere.”

“Hey day,” said Tallyho, “who do you apply this to?”

“Those who find the cap fit may wear it,” was the reply--”

I leave it wholly to the discriminating few who can discover what

belongs to themselves, without further comment.”

~385~~ By this time they had arrived at the Crown and Anchor Tavern, in

the Strand, where they found a great number of persons assembled, Sir

F. B------ having been announced as President. In a few minutes he was

ushered into the room with all due pomp and ceremony, preceded by

the Stewards for the occasion, and accompanied by a numerous body of

friends, consisting of Mr. H------, Major C------, and others, though

not equally prominent, equally zealous. During dinner time all went on

smoothly, except in some instances, where the voracity of some of

the visitors almost occasioned a chopping off the fingers of their

neighbours; but the cloth once removed, and 'Non nobis Domine' sung by

professional Gentlemen, had the effect of calling the attention of the

company to harmony. The Band in the orchestra played, 'O give me Death

or Liberty'--'Erin go brach'--'Britons strike home'--and 'Whilst happy

in my native Land.' The Singers introduced 'Scots wha hae wi' Wallace

bled'--'Peruvians wake to Glory'--and the 'Tyrolese Hymn.' But the

spirit of oratory, enlivened by the fire of the bottle, exhibited its

illuminating sparks in a blaze of lustre which eclipsed even the gas

lights by which they were surrounded; so much so, that the Waiters

themselves became confused, and remained stationary, or, when they

moved, were so dazzled by the patriotic effusions of the various

Speakers, that they fell over each other, spilt the wine in the pockets

of the company, and, by making afterwards a hasty retreat, left them to

fight or argue between each other for supposed liberties taken even by

their immediate friends.

[Illustration: page385 Political Dinner]

Unbridled feelings of patriotic ardour appeared to pervade every one

present; and what with the splendid oratory of the speakers, and the

deafening vociferations of the hearers, at the conclusion of what

was generally considered a good point, a sufficient indication of the

feelings by which they were all animated was evinced.

At the lower end of the table sat a facetious clerical Gentleman, who,

unmindful of his ministerial duties, was loud in his condemnation of

ministers, and as loud in his approbation of those who gave them what

he repeatedly called a good hit. But here a subject of great laughter

occurred; for Mr. Marrowfat, the Pea-merchant of Covent-Garden, and Mr.

Barrowbed, the Feathermonger of Drury Lane, in their zeal for the good

cause, arising at the same moment, big with ardour and sentiment, to

address the ~386~~ Chair on a subject of the most momentous importance

in their consideration, and desirous to signalize themselves

individually, so completely defeated their objects by over anxiety to

gain precedence, that they rolled over each other on the floor, to the

inexpressible amusement of the company, and the total obliteration of

their intended observations; so much so, that the harangue meant to

enlighten their friends, ended in a fine colloquy of abuse upon each

other.

The bottles, the glasses, and the other paraphernalia of the table

suffered considerable diminution in the descent of these modern Ciceros,

and a variety of speakers arising upon their downfall, created so much

confusion, that our Heroes, fearing it would be some time before harmony

could be restored, took up their hats and walked.

“Now,” said Dashall, as they left the house, “you have had a full

view of the pleasantries of a Political Dinner; and having seen the

characters by which such an entertainment is generally attended, any

further account of them is almost rendered useless.”

“At least,” replied Tallyho, “I have been gratified by the view of some

of the leading men who contribute to fill up the columns of your London

Newspapers.”

“Egad!” said his Cousin, “now I think of it, there is a tine opportunity

of amusing ourselves for the remainder of the evening by a peep at

another certain house in Westminster: whether it may be assimilated, in

point of character or contents, to what we have just witnessed, I shall

leave you, after taking a review, to determine.”

“What do you mean?” inquired Tallyho.

“Charley's, my boy, that's the place for sport, something in the old

style. The Professors there are all of the ancient school, and we shall

just be in time for the first Lecture. It is a school of science, and

though established upon the ancient construction, is highly suitable to

the taste of the moderns.”

“Zounds!” replied Bob, “our heads are hardly in cue for philosophy after

so much wine and noise; we had better defer it to another opportunity.”

“Nay, nay, now's the very time for it--it will revive the recollection

of some of your former sports;

For, midst our luxuries be it understood,

Some traits remain of rugged hardihood.”

~387~~ Charley is a good caterer for the public appetite, and, to

diversify the amusements of a Life in London, we will have a little

chaff among the Bear-baiters.”

Tally-ho stared for a moment; then burst into laughter at the curious

introduction his Cousin had given to this subject. “I have long

perceived your talent for embellishment, but certainly was not prepared

for the conclusion; but you ought rather to have denominated them

Students in Natural History.”

“And what is that but a branch of Philosophy?” inquired Dashall.

“However, we are discussing points of opinion rather than hastening to

the scene of action to become judges of facts--Allons.”

Upon saying this, they moved forward with increased celerity towards

Tothill-fields, and soon reached their proposed place of destination.

On entering, Tallyho was reminded by his Cousin to button up his

toggery, keep his ogles in action, and be awake. “For,” said he, “you

will here have to mingle with some of the queer Gills and rum Covies of

all ranks.”

This advice being taken, they soon found themselves in this temple of

torment, where Bob surveyed a motly group assembled, and at that moment

engaged in the sports of the evening. The generality of the company bore

the appearance of Butchers, Dog-fanciers and Ruffians, intermingled

here and there with a few Sprigs of Fashion, a few Corinthian Sicells,

Coster-mongers, Coal-heavers, Watermen, Soldiers, and Livery-servants.

[Illustration: page387 The Country Squire]

The bear was just then pinn'd by a dog belonging to a real lover of the

game, who, with his shirt-sleeves tuck'd up, declared he was a d------d

good one, and nothing but a good one, so help him G------d. This dog, at

the hazard of his life, had seized poor Bruin by the under lip, who

sent forth a tremendous howl indicative of his sufferings, and was

endeavouring to give him a fraternal hug; many other dogs were barking

aloud with anxiety to take an active share in the amusement, while the

bear, who was chained by the neck to a staple in the wall, and compelled

to keep an almost erect posture, shook his antagonist with all the fury

of madness produced by excessive torture. In the mean time bets were

made and watches pull'd forth, to decide how long the bow-wow would

bother the ragged Russian. The Dog-breeders were chaffing each other

upon the value of their canine property, each holding his ~388~~

brother-puppy between his legs, till a fair opportunity for a let-loose

offered, and many wagers were won and lost in a short space of time. Bob

remained a silent spectator; while his Cousin, who was better up to the

gossip, mixt with the hard-featured sportsmen, inquired the names of

their dogs, what prices were fix'd upon, when they had fought last, and

other questions equally important to amateurs.

Bruin got rid of his customers in succession as they came up to him,

and when they had once made a seizure, it was generally by a hug which

almost deprived them of life, at least it took from them the power of

continuing their hold; but his release from one was only the signal for

attack from another.

While this exhibition continued, Tom could not help calling his Cousin's

attention to an almost bald-headed man, who occupied a front seat, and

sat with his dog, which was something of the bull breed, between his

legs, while the paws of the animal rested on the top rail, and which

forcibly brought to his recollection the well-known anecdote of Garrick

and the Butcher's dog with his master's wig on, while the greasy

carcass-dealer was wiping the perspiration from his uncovered

pericranium.

Bob, who had seen a badger-bait, and occasionally at fairs in the

country a dancing bear, had never before seen a bear-bait, stood up most

of the time, observing those around him, and paying attention to their

proceedings while entertaining sentiments somewhat similar to the

following lines:--

“What boisterous shouts, what blasphemies obscene,

What eager movements urge each threatening mien!

Present the spectacle of human kind,

Devoid of feeling--destitute of mind;

With ev'ry dreadful passion rous'd to flame,

All sense of justice lost and sense of shame.”

When Charley the proprietor thought his bear was sufficiently exercised

for the night, he was led to his den, lacerated and almost lamed, to

recover of his wounds, with an intention that he should “fight his

battles o'er again.” Meanwhile Tom and Bob walk'd homeward.

The next day having been appointed for the coronation of our most

gracious Sovereign, our friends were off at an early hour in the

morning, to secure their seats in ~389~~ Westminster Hall; and on their

way they met the carriage of our disappointed and now much lamented

Queen, her endeavours to obtain admission to the Abbey having proved

fruitless.

“Oh that the Monarch had as firmly stood

In all his acts to serve the public good,

As in that moment of heartfelt joy

That firmness acted only to destroy

A nation's hope--to every heart allied,

Who lived in sorrow, and lamented died!”

It was a painful circumstance to Dashall, who was seldom severe in his

judgments, or harsh in his censures. He regretted its occurrence, and it

operated in some degree to rob a splendid ceremony of its magnificence,

and to sever from royalty half its dignity.

The preparations however were arranged upon a scale of grandeur suited

to the occasion. The exterior of Westminster Hall and Abbey presented

a most interesting appearance. Commodious seats were erected for the

accommodation of spectators to view the procession in its moving order,

and were thronged with thousands of anxious subjects to greet their

Sovereign with demonstrations of loyalty and love.

It was certainly a proud day of national festivity. The firing of guns

and the ringing of bells announced the progress of the Coronation in

its various stages to completion; and in the evening Hyde Park was

brilliantly and tastefully illuminated, and an extensive range of

excellent fireworks were discharged under the direction of Sir William

Congreve. We must however confine ourselves to that which came under the

view of the Hon. Tom Dashall and his Cousin, who, being seated in

the Hall, had a fine opportunity of witnessing the banquet, and the

challenge of the Champion.

A flooring of wood had been laid down in the Hall at an elevation of

fourteen inches above the flags. Three tiers of galleries were erected

on each side, covered with a rich and profuse scarlet drapery falling

from a cornice formed of a double row of gold-twisted rope, and

ornamented with a succession of magnificent gold pelmets and rosettes.

The front of the door which entered from the passage without, was

covered with a curtain of scarlet, trimmed with deep gold fringe, and

looped up on each side with ~390~~ silken ropes. The floor, and to the

extremity of the first three steps of the Throne, was covered with a

splendid Persian-pattern Wilton carpet, and the remainder of the steps

with scarlet baize.

The canopy of the throne, which was square, was surrounded by a

beautiful carved and gilt cornice, prepared by Mr. Evans. Beneath the

cornice hung a succession of crimson-velvet pelmet drapery, each pelmet

having embroidered upon it a rose, a thistle, a crown, or a harp.

Surmounting the cornice in front was a gilt crown upon a velvet cushion,

over the letters “Geo. IV.” supported on each side by an antique gilt

ornament. The entire back of the throne, as well as the interior of the

canopy, were covered with crimson Genoa velvet, which was relieved by a

treble row of broad and narrow gold lace which surrounded the whole.

In the centre of the back were the royal arms, the lion and the unicorn

rampant, embroidered in the most costly style. Under this stood the

chair of state, and near the throne were six splendid chairs placed for

the other members of the royal family. These decorations, and the Hall

being splendidly illuminated, presented to the eye a spectacle of

the most imposing nature, heightened by the brilliant assemblage of

elegantly dressed personages. The Ladies universally wore ostrich

feathers, and the Gentlemen were attired in the most sumptuous dresses.

[Illustration: page390 Grand Coronation Dinner]

About four o'clock, his Majesty having gone through the other fatiguing

ceremonies of the day, entered the Hall with the crown upon his head,

and was greeted with shouts of “Long live the King!” from all quarters;

shortly after which, the banquet was served by the necessary officers.

But that part of the ceremony which most attracted the attention of

Tallyho, was the challenge of the Champion, whose entrance was announced

by the sound of the trumpets thrice; and who having proceeded on a

beautiful horse in a full suit of armour, under the porch of a triumphal

arch, attended by the Duke of Wellington on his right, and the Deputy

Earl Marshal on his left, to the place assigned him, the challenge was

read aloud by the Herald: he then threw down his gauntlet, which having

lain a short time, was returned to him. This ceremony was repeated three

times; when he drank to his Majesty, and received the gold cup and cover

as his fee.

~391~~ The whole of this magnificent national pageant was conducted

throughout with the most scrupulous attention to the customary etiquette

of such occasions; and Tallyho, who had never witnessed any thing of the

kind before, and consequently could have no conception of its splendour,

was at various parts of the ceremony enraptured; he fancied himself

in Fairy-land, and that every thing he saw and heard was the effect of

enchantment. Our friends returned home highly gratified with their day's

amusement.

CHAPTER XXV

“Behold the Ring! how strange the group appears

Of dirty blackguards, commoners and peers;

Jews, who regard not Moses nor his laws,

All ranks of Christians eager in the cause.

What eager bets--what oaths at every breath,

Who first shall shrink, or first be beat to death.

Thick fall the blows, and oft the boxers fall,

While deaf'ning shouts for fresh exertions call;

Till, bruised and blinded, batter'd sore and maim'd,

One gives up vanquish'd, and the other lam'd.

Say, men of wealth! say what applause is due

For scenes like these, when patronised by you?

These are your scholars, who in humbler way,

But with less malice, at destruction play.

You, like game cocks, strike death with polish'd steel;

They, dung-hill-bred, use only nature's heel;

They fight for something--you for nothing fight;

They box for love, but you destroy in spite.”

~392 ~~ THE following Tuesday having been appointed by the knowing ones

for a pugilistic encounter between Jack Randall, commonly called the

Nonpareil, and Martin, as well known by the appellation of The Master of

the Rolls, from his profession being that of a baker; an excellent day's

sport was anticipated, and the lads of the fancy were all upon the “_qui

vive_.”

Our friends had consequently arranged, on the previous night, to

breakfast at an early hour, and take a gentle ride along the road, with

a determination to see as much as possible of the attractive amusements

of a milling-match, and to take a view as they went along of the company

they were afterwards to mingle with.

“We shall now,” said Dashall (as they sat down to breakfast) “have a

peep at the lads of the ring, and see a little of the real science of

Boxing.”

“We have been boxing the compass through the difficult straits of a

London life for some time,” replied Bob, “and I begin to think that,

with all its variety, its gaiety, and

~393~~ its pride, the most legitimate joys of life may fairly be said to

exist in the country.”

“I confess,” said Dashall, “that most of the pleasures of life are

comparative, and arise from contrast. Thus the bustle of London

heightens the serenity of the country, while again the monotony of the

country gives additional zest to the ever-varying scenes of London. But

why this observation at a moment when we are in pursuit of fresh game?”

“Nay,” said Tallyho, “I know not why; but I spoke as I thought, feeling

as I do a desire to have a pop at the partridges as the season is now

fast approaching, and having serious thoughts of shifting my quarters.”

“We will talk of that hereafter,” was the reply. “You have an excellent

day's sport in view, let us not throw a cloud upon the prospect before

us--you seem rather in the doldrums. The amusements of this day will

perhaps inspire more lively ideas; and then we shall be present at the

masquerade, which will doubtless be well attended; all the fashion of

the Metropolis will be present, and there you will find a new world,

such as surpasses the powers of imagination--a sort of Elysium

unexplored before, full of mirth, frolic, whim, wit and variety, to

charm every sense in nature. But come, we must not delay participating

in immediate gratifications by the anticipations of those intended for

the future. Besides, I have engaged to give the Champion a cast to the

scene of action in my barouche.”

By this time Piccadilly was all in motion--coaches, carts, gigs,

tilburies, whiskies, buggies, dog-carts, sociables, dennets, curricles,

and sulkies, were passing in rapid succession, intermingled with

tax-carts and waggons decorated with laurel, conveying company of the

most varied description. In a few minutes, the barouche being at

the door, crack went the whip, and off they bowled. Bob's eyes were

attracted on all sides. Here, was to be seen the dashing Corinthian

tickling up his tits, and his bang-up set-out of blood and bone, giving

the go-by to a heavy drag laden with eight brawney bull-faced blades,

smoking their way down behind a skeleton of a horse, to whom in all

probability a good feed of corn would have been a luxury; pattering

among themselves, occasionally chaffing the more elevated drivers by

whom they were surrounded, and pushing forward their nags with all the

ardour of a British ~394~~ merchant intent upon disposing of a valuable

cargo of foreign goods on 'Change. There, was a waggon, full of all

sorts upon the lark, succeeded by a donkey-cart with four insides; but

Neddy, not liking his burthen, stopt short on the way of a Dandy, whose

horse's head coming plump up to the back of the crazy vehicle at the

moment of its stoppage, threw the rider into the arms of a Dustman, who,

hugging his customer with the determined grasp of a bear, swore d------n

his eyes he had saved his life, and he expected he would stand something

handsome for the Gemmen all round, for if he had not pitched into their

cart, he would certainly have broke his neck; which being complied with,

though reluctantly, he regained his saddle, and proceeded a little more

cautiously along the remainder of the road, while groups of pedestrians

of all ranks and appearances lined each side.

At Hyde-Park Corner, Tom having appointed to take up the prime

hammer-man, drew up, and was instantly greeted by a welcome from the

expected party, who being as quickly seated, they proceeded on their

journey.

“This match appears to occupy general attention,” said Tom.

“I should think so,” was the reply--“why it will be a prime thing

as ever was seen. Betting is all alive--the Daffy Club in tip-top

spirits--lots of money sported on both sides--somebody must make a

mull{1}--but Randall's the man--he is the favourite of the day, all the

world to a penny-roll.”

The simile of the penny roll being quite in point with the known title

of one of the combatants, caused a smile on Dashall's countenance, which

was caught by the eye of Tallyho, and created some mirth, as it was

a proof of what has frequently been witnessed, that the lovers of the

fancy are as apt in their imaginations at times, as they are ready for

the accommodating one, two, or the friendly flush hit which floors their

opponents.

The morning was fine, and the numerous persons who appeared travelling

on the road called forth many inquiries from Bob.

“Now,” said he, “I think I recollect that the admirable author of the

_Sentimental Journey_ used to read as he went along--is it possible to

read as we journey forward?” “Doubtless,” replied Tom, “it is, and will

produce

1 Mull--Defeat, loss, or disappointment.

~395~~ a fund of amusing speculation as we jog on. Lavater founded his

judgment of men upon the formation of their features; Gall and Spurzheim

by the lumps, bumps and cavities of their pericraniums; but I doubt not

we shall be right in our views of the society we are likely to meet,

without the help of either--do you see that group?”

Bob nodded assent.

“These,” continued Tom, “are profitable characters, or rather men of

profit, who, kindly considering the constitution of their friends,

provide themselves with refreshments of various kinds, to supply the

hungry visitors round the ring--oranges, nuts, apples, gingerbread,

biscuits and peppermint drops.”

“Not forgetting _blue ruin and French lace_,”{1} said the man of fist;

“but you have only half done it--don't you see the _Cash-cove_{2}

behind, with his stick across his shoulder, _padding the hoof_{3} in

breathless speed? he has _shell'd out the lour_{4} for the occasion, and

is travelling down to keep a _wakeful winker_{5} on his retailers, and

to take care that however they may chuse to lush away the profit, they

shall at least take care of the principal. The little Dandy just before

him also acts as Whipper-in; between them they mark out the ground,{6}

watch the progress, and pocket the proceeds. They lend the money for the

others to traffic.”

“I confess,” said Tom, “I was not exactly up to this.”

“Aye, aye, but I know the _Blunt-monger_,{7} and am up to his ways and

means,” was the reply.--“Hallo, my eyes, here he comes!” continued he,

rising from his seat, and bowing obsequiously to a Gentleman who passed

them in a tandem--“all right, I am glad of it--always good sport when

he is present--no want of sauce or seasoning--he always _comes it

strong_.”{8}

“I perceive,” replied Tom, “you allude to the noble Marquis of W------.”

1 French lace--A flash or cant term for brandy.

2 Cash-cove--A monied man.

3 Padding the hoof--Travelling on Shanks's mare, or taking

a turn by the marrow-bone stage, i.e. walking.

4 Shell'd out the lour--Supplied the cash.

5 Wakeful winker--A sharp eye.

6 Mark out the ground--Is to place his retailers in various

parts of the Ring for the accommodation of the company, any

where he may expect to find them himself.

7 Blunt-monger--Money-dealer, or money-lender.

8 Comes it strong--No flincher, a real good one.

~396~~ Travelling gently along the road, they were presently impeded by

a crowd of persons who surrounded a long cart or waggon, which had just

been overturned, and had shot out a motley group of personages, who

were being lifted on their legs, growling and howling at this unforeseen

disaster. A hard-featured sailor, whose leg had been broken by the fall,

brandished a splinter of the fractured limb, and swore--“That although

his timbers were shivered, and he had lost a leg in the service, he

would not be the last in the Ring, but he'd be d------d if he mount the

rubbish-cart any more.” It is needless to observe his leg was a wooden

one.

Upon examining the inscription on the cart, it was found to contain the

following words:--“Household Furniture, Building Materials, and Lumber

carefully removed.” As it was ascertained that no real injury had

been sustained, our party speedily passed the overturned vehicle and

proceeded.

The next object of attraction was a small cart drawn by one poor animal,

sweating and snorting under the weight of six Swells, led by an old man,

who seemed almost as incapable as his horse seemed unwilling to perform

the journey. A label on the outside of the cart intimated that its

contents was soap, which created some laughter between Tom and Bob. The

man in the front, whose Jew-looking appearance attracted attention, was

endeavouring to increase the speed of the conveyance by belabouring the

boney rump of the _prad_{1} with his hat, while some of their pedestrian

_palls_{2} were following close in the rear, and taking occasionally

a _drap of the cratur_, which was handed out behind and returned after

refreshment.

“These,” said Tom to his Cousin, “are also men of profit, but

not exactly in the way of those we passed--second-rate Swells and

broken-down Gamesters, determined, as the saying is, to have a shy,

even if they lose their sticks, and more properly may be termed men of

plunder; desperate in their pursuits, they turn out with intent to

make the best of the day, and will not fail to nibble all they can come

easily at.”

“They are not worth the blood from a broken nose,” said the Pugilist,

with a feeling for the honour of his profession which did him

credit.--“They are all prigs, their company

1 Prad--A cant term for a horse.

2 Palls--Partners, accomplices, colleagues.

~397~~ spoils all genteel society, and frequently brings disgrace

upon others with whom they are unworthy to associate, or even to be

seen--there's no getting rid of such gentry. Is it not d------d hard a

man can't have a pleasant bit of a turn-up, without having his friends

filched?--But here comes the gay fellows, here they come upon the trot,

all eager and anxious to mark the first blow, start the odds, and curry

the coal.{1} These are the lads of life--true lovers of the sport--up to

the manouvre--clear and quick-sighted, nothing but good ones--aye aye,

and here comes Bill Gibbons, furnished with the fashionables.”

“What do you call the fashionables?” inquired Bob.

“Why, the Binders.”

Here he was as much at a loss as ever, which the other perceiving, he

continued--“The Binders are the stakes and ropes, to fence in the Ring.”

Bill Gibbons, who was well known on the road, and was speeding down

pretty sharp, was followed by crowds of vehicles of all descriptions; as

many to whom the place of meeting was but conjectured, upon seeing

him felt assured of being in the right track. Here were to be seen the

Swells in their tandems--the Nib Sprigs in their gigs, buggies, and

dog-carts--and the Tidy Ones on their trotters, all alive and leaping.

Mirth and merriment appeared spread over every countenance, though

expectation and anxiety were intermingled here and there in the features

of the real lads of the fancy; many of whom, upon this very interesting

occasion, had bets to a considerable amount depending upon the result of

the day. The bang-up blades were pushing their prads along in gay style,

accompanied by two friends, that is to say, a biped and a quadruped. The

queer fancy lads, who had hired hacks from the livery-stable keepers,

were kicking up a dust, and here and there rolling from their prancers

in their native soil; while the neck or nothing boys, with no prospect

but a whereas before their eyes, were as heedless of their personal

safety as they were of their Creditor's property. Jaded hacks and crazy

vehicles were to be seen on all sides--here lay a bankrupt-cart with

the panels knock'din, and its driver with an eye knock'd out, the horse

lamed, and the concern completely knock'd up, just before the period

when the hammer of the Auctioneer was to be called in, and his effects

knock'd down. There was another

1 Curry the coal--Make sure of the money.

~398~~ of the same description, with a harum-scarum devil of

a half-bred, making his way at all risks, at a full gallop, as

unmanageable in his career as his driver had been in his speculations;

dust flying, women sprawling, men bawling, dogs barking, and the

multitude continually increasing. Scouts, Scamps, Lords, Loungers and

Lacqueys--Coster-mongers from--To the Hill Fields--and The Bloods from

Bermondsey, completely lined the road as far as the eye could reach,

both before and behind; it was a day of the utmost importance to the

pugilistic school, as the contest had excited a most unparalleled degree

of interest!

It would be scarcely possible to give a full and accurate description

of the appearances as they went along; imagination would labour in vain,

and words are altogether incapable of conveying a picture of the road to

this memorable fight; the various instances in which they could discover

that things were not all right were admirably contrasted by others,

where care and good coachmanship, with a perfect management of the

bloods, proved the reverse--while the single horsemen, whose hearts were

really engaged in the sport, were picking their way with celerity, and

posting to the point of attraction.--The public-houses were thronged

to excess, and the Turnpike-keepers made a market of the mirth-moving

throng.

[Illustration: page398 Road to a Fight]

Our party arrived in the neighbourhood of Copthorne about half-past

twelve, where all was bustle and confusion. The commissary in chief, Mr.

Jackson, being out of town, some of the subalterns, who had taken the

command _pro tempore_, had, for divers weighty reasons,principally

founded on a view to the profits of certain of the Surrey Trusts, and to

accommodate the sporting circles at Brighton, fixed the combat to take

place in a meadow belonging to a farmer named Jarvis, near this place.

On this spot accordingly the ring was formed, and an immense mass of

all descriptions of vehicles was admitted, not much, it may naturally

be supposed, to the prejudice of the owner of the premises, whose

agents were praise-worthily active in levying proper contributions. Some

Gentlemen however in the neighbourhood, observing that the strictest

delicacy was not maintained towards the sacredness of their fences,

insisted that the place was too confined, and intimated that a move must

be made, or they should make application to the Magistrates; and at

the same time suggested Crawley Downs, the site of so ~399~ many former

skirmishes, as the most convenient spot for their accommodation.

In this state of things, a move immediately took place, and a fresh

ring was established on the spot alluded to; but, in effecting this new

lodgment, much mortification was experienced, not alone by those, who,

after a dreadful drag up one of the worst by-roads in England, had

obtained a comfortable situation, but by those, who, speculating on the

formation of the ring, had expended considerable sums in the hire of

waggons for their purpose from the surrounding farmers. The waggons

it was found impossible to move in due time, and thus the new area was

composed of such vehicles as were first to reach the appointed ground.

The general confusion now was inconceivable, for, notwithstanding the

departure of connoisseurs from Jarvis's Farm, Martin still maintained

his post, alleging, that he was on the ground originally fixed, and

that he should expect Randall to meet him there; in which demand he was

supported by his backers. This tended to increase the embarrassment of

the amateurs; however, about one, Randall arrived at Crawley Downs, in

a post-chaise, and took up his quarters at a cottage near the ground,

waiting for his man; and at two, General Barton, who had just mounted

his charger, intending to consult the head-quarters of the Magistrates,

to ascertain their intention in case of proceeding to action at Jarvis's

Farm, was suddenly arrested in his progress by an express from the

Martinites, announcing that their champion had yielded his claim to the

choice of ground, and was so anxious for the mill, that he would meet

Randall even in a saw-pit. Bill Gibbons arriving soon after, the Ring,

with the assistance of many hands, was quickly formed; by which time,

Tom and Bob had secured themselves excellent situations to view the

combat.

About twenty minutes before three, Randall entered the outer Ring,

attended by General Barton and Mr. Griffiths. He was attired in a

Whitehall upper Benjamin, and _threw his hat into the Ring_ amidst loud

applause. In a few minutes after, Martin approached from an opposite

direction, accompanied by Mr. Sant and Mr. Elliott; he was also warmly

greeted.

The men now passed the ropes, and were assisted by their immediate

friends in peeling for action. Martin was ~400~~ attended by Spring and

Thurton; Randall, by Harry Holt and Paddington Jones.

The men stript well, and both appeared to be in excellent health, good

spirits, and high condition; but the symmetry of Randall's bust excited

general admiration; and the muscular strength of his arms, neck, and

shoulders, bore testimony to his Herculean qualities; the whole force of

his body, in fact, seem'd to be concentrated above his waistband. Martin

stood considerably above him, his arms were much longer, but they wanted

that bold and imposing weight which characterized those of Randall. They

walked up to the _scratch_, and shook hands in perfect good fellowship.

Every man now took his station, and the heroes threw themselves into

their guard.

It was rumoured that Martin intended to lose no time in manoeuvring, but

to go to work instanter. This however he found was not so easily to

be effected as suggested, for Randall had no favour to grant, and was

therefore perfectly on his guard. He was all wary caution, and had

clearly no intention of throwing away a chance, but was evidently

waiting for Martin to commence. Martin once or twice made play, but

Randall was not skittishly inclined, all was “war hawk.” Randall made a

left-handed hit to draw his adversary, but found it would not do.

Martin then hit right and left, but was stopped. Randall was feeling for

Martin's wind, but hit above his mark, though not without leaving one of

a red colour, which told “a flattering tale.” Randall returned with his

left, and the men got to a smart rally, when Randall got a konker, which

tapped the claret. An almost instantaneous close followed, in which

Randall, grasping Martin round the neck with his right arm, and bringing

his head to a convenient posture, sarved out punishment with his left.

This was indeed a terrific position. Randall was always famous for the

dreadful force of his short left-handed hits, and on this occasion they

lost none of their former character. Martin's nob was completely in a

vice; and while in that hopeless condition, Randall fibbed away with the

solid weight of the hammer of a tuck-mill. His aim was principally at

the neck, where every blow told with horrible violence. Eight or ten

times did he repeat the dose, and then, with a violent swing, threw

Martin to the ground, falling on him as he; went with all his weight.

The Ring resounded with applause, and Jack coolly took ~401~~ his seat

on the knee of his Second. Martin's friends began to look blue, but

still expected, the fight being young, there was yet much to be done.

All eyes were now turned to Martin, who being lifted on Spring's knee,

in a second discovered that he was done. His head fell back lifeless,

and all the efforts of Spring to keep it straight were in vain. Water

was thrown on him in abundance, but without effect: he was, in fact,

completely senseless; and the half-minute having transpired, the

Nonpareil was hailed the victor.

Randall appeared almost without a scratch, while poor Martin lay like a

lump of unleavened dough; he was removed and bled, but it was some time

before he was conscious of his defeat.

Nothing could exceed the astonishment which so sudden and complete a

finish to the business produced. The round lasted but seven minutes and

a half, of which four minutes and a half had elapsed before a blow was

attempted. Thus ended one of the most extraordinary battles between two

known game men on the pugilistic records. Very heavy bets had been made

upon it in all parts of the kingdom. One gentleman is said to have had

five thousand pounds, and another one thousand eight hundred guineas.

The gains of the conqueror were supposed to be about a thousand pounds.

The amusements of the day were concluded by a second fight between

Parish and Lashbroke, which proved a manly and determined contest for

upwards of an hour, and in which the combatants evinced considerable

skill and bravery, and was finally decided in favour of Parish. All

amusement which might have been derived from this spectacle, however,

was completely destroyed by the daring outrages of an immense gang of

pickpockets, who broke in the Ring, and closed completely up to the

ropes, carrying with them every person, of decent appearance, and openly

robbing them of their watches, pocket-books and purses. And the lateness

of the hour, it being five o'clock, and almost dark, favoured the

depredators.

In the midst of this struggle, Tom Dashall had nearly lost his fancy

topper,{1} and Tallyho was secretly eased of his clicker.{2} From the

scene of tumult and confusion they were glad to escape; and being again

safely seated in the

1 Topper--A flash term given to a hat.

2 Clicker--A flash term given to a watch,

~402~~ barouche, they made the best of their way home; in doing which,

they found the roads almost as much clogg'd as they were in the morning.

The Randallites were meritorious, and, flushed with good fortune, lined

the public-houses on the road to _wet their whistles_, singing and

shouting his name in strains to them equally inspiring as

“See the conquering hero comes!

Sound your trumpets, beat your drums;”

while the Martinites rolled along the road in sullen silence; and, by

the time they reached town, an account of the Battle was hawking about

the streets, and songs singing to the praise of the successful combatant

in all the melodious cadences of a last dying speech and confession:

such is the promptitude of London Printers, Poets, and News-venders.

“Well,” said Dashall, as they re-entered the house, “the events of this

day have completely disappointed some of the knowing ones.”

“That may be,” replied Bob, “but they have been too knowing for me,

notwithstanding your previous instructions. However, I don't regret

seeing the humours of a Prize Ring; and the next time you catch me

there, I must take a lesson from the man of profit, and keep a wakeful

winker on the possibles. Really, I could not help feeling astonished at

the immense number of persons assembled on such an occasion.”

[Illustration: page402 A Private Turn-up]

“Zounds!” said Tom, “'tis the real centre of attraction, the thing,

the tippy, and the twig, among the Lads of the Fancy. Why, it is pretty

generally known, through the medium of the newspapers, that a certain

Nobleman paid the debts of one of these Pugilists, amounting to 300L.

that he might be released from Newgate in order to fight a prize battle;

and it is not long since that the Marquis of T--ed--e, whilst

entertaining a large party, after dinner introduced the subject with so

much effect, that a purse of 100 guineas was subscribed among them for a

turn up between two of the _prime hammermen_; who, being introduced,

actually set-to in his drawing-room for the amusement of his friends.

Nor is it less true, that this sporting Nobleman gloriously took up the

conqueror, (as the saying is) and evinced his patronage and his power at

once, by actually subduing his antagonist, proving to certitude, that if

his Lordship would but practise this sublime art, he ~403~~ could hardly

fail of adding to his present title that of the Champion of England! It

is the theme of constant conversation, and in many cases there is more

anxiety about contests of this sort than there is about the arrival of a

Monarch on the Irish coast among the lads of _praties_, whiskey, and

buttermilk--thoughts are busy, energies are active--and money in galore

is circulated upon it.”

Bob laughed heartily at these observations of his Cousin upon what he

termed the sublime art.

“You don't appear to enter into the spirit of it,” continued Tom; “but

I can assure you, it is a very animating subject, and has occupied the

attention of all classes, from the peer to the prelate, the peasant

and the pot-boy; it is said that one of the lower order of ranting

Preachers, not many miles from Bolton-on-the-Moors, lately addressed

his auditory in the following metaphorical language, accompanied with

striking and appropriate attitudes:--'I dare say, now, you'd pay to see

a boxing-match between Randall and Turner, or Martin--yet you don't like

to pay for seeing a pitched-battle between me and the Black Champion

Beelzebub. Oh! my friends, many a hard knock, and many a cross-buttock

have I given the arch bruiser of mankind--aye, and all for your dear

sakes--pull--do pull off those gay garments of Mammon, strike the devil

a straight-forward blow in the mouth, darken his spiritual daylights.

At him manfully, give it him right and left, and I'll be your

bottle-holder--I ask nothing but the money, which you'll not forget

before you go.' ”

“The true spirit moved him,” said Bob, “and a very laudable one too; but

he very emphatically deprecated the votaries of Mammon.”

“Certainly, he being called, would have been unworthy of his calling if

he had not.”

This conversation was carried on over a glass of generous wine, and,

dwindling into indifferent subjects, is not necessary to be detailed;

suffice it to say, that, fatigued with the day's exertions, they sought

repose in the arms of Morpheus at an early hour, determined on the

pursuit of fresh game with the dawn of the morning.404~~

CHAPTER XXVI

“See yonder beaux, so delicately gay;

And yonder belles, so'deck'd in thin array--

Ah! rather see not what a decent pride

Would teach a maiden modestly to hide;

The dress so flimsy, the exposure such,

“twould almost make a very wanton blush.

E'en married dames, forgetting what is due

To sacred ties, give half clad charms to view.

What calls them forth to brave the daring glance,

The public ball, the midnight wanton dance?

There many a blooming nymph, by fashion led,

Has felt her health, her peace, her honour fled;

Truss'd her fine form to strange fantastic shapes,

To be admir'd, and twirl'd about by apes;

Or, mingling in the motley masquerade,

Found innocence by visor'd vice betrayed.”

AN agreeable lounge through the Parks in the morning afforded them an

opportunity of recalling in idea the pleasures of the past Real Life in

London, of which Tallyho had been enabled to partake, and during which

he again signified a desire to change the scene, by a departure at

an early period for his native vales, to breathe, as he observed, the

uncontaminated air of the country--to watch the wary pointer, and mark

the rising covey--to pursue the timid hare, or chase the cunning

fox; and Dashall finding him inflexible, notwithstanding his glowing

descriptions of scenes yet unexplored, at length consented to accompany

him to Belville Hall, upon condition that they should return again in

a month. This mode of arrangement seemed perfectly satisfactory to Bob;

and a view of the Panorama and a peep at the Tennis Court would have

finished their rambles for the day, but at the latter place of

amusement and healthful exercise, meeting with young Mortimer, a further

developement of facts relative to Sparkle and his Bride transpired; in

which it appeared that they had arrived at their place of destination,

and had forwarded an invitation to his brother-in-law to ~405~~ pay them

an early visit, and who proposed starting in a few days.

“Well,” said Dashall, “we will all go together, and no doubt with our

old friend Sparkle we shall be able to endure the unchanging prospects

of a country life.”

“In the Country how blest, when it rains in the fields,

To feast upon transports that shuttle-cock yields;

Or go crawling from window to window, to see

An ass on a common, a crow on a tree.

In the Country you're nail'd, like some pale in your park,

To some stick of a neighbour, crammed into the ark;

And if you are sick, or in fits tumble down,

You reach death ere the Doctor can reach you from town.”

“Never mind,” cried Tallyho, “a change of scene will no doubt be useful,

and, at all events, by enduring the one, we may learn more judiciously

to appreciate the other.”

“True,” said Tom, “and I shall like myself all the better for being

in good company. But pray, Mr. Mortimer, what do you mean to do at the

approaching masquerade?”

“Not quite decided yet,” was the reply.

“You go, of course?”

“Certainly--as Orpheus, or Apollo. But pray what character do you intend

to sustain?”

“That's a secret--”

“Worth knowing, I suppose--well, well, I shall find you out, never

fear.”

“Time's a tell-tale,” said Dashall, “and will most likely unfold all

mysteries; but I always think the life and spirit of a masquerade is

much injured by a knowledge of the characters assumed by friends, unless

it be where two or more have an intention of playing, as it were,

to, and with each other; for where there is mystery, there is always

interest. I shall therefore propose that we keep to ourselves the

characters in which we mean to appear; for I am determined, if possible,

to have a merry night of it.”

“On the lightly sportive wing,

At pleasure's call we fly;

Hark! they dance, they play, they sing,

In merry merry revelry;

Hark! the tabors lively beat,

And the flute in numbers sweet,

Fill the night with delight

At the Masquerade.

Let the grave ones warn us as they may,

Of every harmless joy afraid;

Whilst we're young and gay,

We'll frolic and play

At the Masquerade.”

~406~~ Tom's observations upon this subject were in perfect accordance

with those of. Mortimer and Tallyho; though he had intended to consult

his Cousin as to the character he should appear in, he now determined

to take his own direction, or to have advice from Fentum in the Strand,

whose advertisements to supply dresses, &c. he had observed in the

newspapers.

These preliminaries being decided upon, as far as appeared needful at

the moment, Mortimer departed towards home, where he expected to meet

his Uncle upon his return from the chase after the fugitives, Sparkle

and Miss Mortimer, now Mrs. Sparkle; and Tom and Bob to Piccadilly,

where a select party of Dashall's friends were invited to dinner, and

where they enjoyed a pleasant evening, drank rather freely, and had but

little to regret after it, except certain qualmish feelings of the head

and stomach the next morning.

The anticipated Masquerade had been the principal subject of

conversation, so long as reason held her sway; but the hard exercise of

the arm, and the generosity of the wine, had an early and visible effect

upon some of the party, who did not separate till a late hour, leaving

Bob just strength and intelligence enough to find the way to his

dormitory.

By the arrival of the appointed evening for the grand Masquerade at

Vauxhall Gardens, Tom Dashall, who had a particular view in keeping

his intended proceedings a secret, had arranged all to his wishes, and

anticipated considerable amusement from the interest he should take

in the safety of his Cousin, whom he entertained no doubt of quickly

discovering, and with whom he determined to promote as much mirth as

possible.

Tallyho, in the mean time, had also made occasional calls upon Merrywell

in his confinement, and, under his direction, been preparing for the

occasion, equally determined, if possible, to turn the laugh on his

Cousin; ~407~~ and it must be acknowledged, he could scarcely have

found a more able tutor, though he was doomed rather to suffer by

his confidence in his instructor, as will hereafter be seen; for, in

escaping the intended torment of one, he was unexpectedly subjected to

the continual harassing of another.

It was about half after eleven o'clock, when Tallyho, duly equipped in

his country costume, as a Huntsman, entered this splendid and spacious

scene of brilliancy. The blaze of light which burst upon him, and the

variety of characters in constant motion, appeared almost to render him

motionless; and several of the would-be characters passed him with a

vacant stare, declaring he was no character at all! nor was he roused

from his lethargic position till he heard a view halloo, which seemed

to come from a distant part of the Garden, and was so delivered, as

actually to give him an idea of the party being in pursuit of game, by

growing fainter towards the close, as if receding from him. The sound

immediately animated him, and answering it in a truly sportsman-like

style, he burst from his situation, and cracking his whip, at full speed

followed in the direction from which it came, under the impression that

he knew the voice of Dashall, and should discover him. In his speed,

however, he was rather rudely attacked by a small dandy personage,

whose outward appearance indicated some pretensions to manhood, with a

“Demmee, Sir, how dare you be rude to my voman! for egad I shall have

you clapped in the Round-house--here, Vatchman, take this here man in

charge--Vatch! Vatch!” The voice however soon told him he had a lady to

deal with, and he entered into a long harangue by way of apology. This

not being acceptable to the offended party, he was surrounded by a host

of Charleys springing their rattles all at once, and, notwithstanding

the dexterous use of his whip, he was obliged to yield. At this moment,

Tallyho was again sounded in his ears, issuing from another quarter; but

his struggles to pursue the party from whom it came were ineffectual. A

rough-hewn Sailor with a pipe in his mouth, and an immense cudgel in

his hand, however, arrived to his assistance, accompanied by an Irish

Chairman in a large blue coat, and a cock'd hat bound with gold lace,

armed with a chair-pole, who effected his liberty; and he again scoured

off in pursuit ~408~~ of his friend, but without success. He now began

to think his situation not altogether so pleasant as he could wish. He

listened to every voice, examined every form that passed him in rapid

succession; yet he felt himself alone, and determined not to be led away

by sounds such as had already occupied his attention, but rather to look

about him, and notice the eccentricities with which he was surrounded.

Sauntering along in this mood, he was presently assailed by a voice

behind him, exclaiming, “Bob--

“Bob, if you wish to go safely on,

Tarn round about, and look out for the Don.”

Upon hearing this, he turned hastily around, and encountered a group

of Chimney-sweepers, who immediately set up such a clatter with their

brushes and shovels, dancing at the same time in the true May-day style

round him and a strapping Irish fish-woman, that he was completely

prevented from pursuit, and almost from observation, while a universal

laugh from those near him bespoke the mirth his situation excited; and

the Hibernian damsel, with true Irish sympathy, attempted to allay his

chagrin by clasping him in her brawny arms, and imprinting on his ruddy

cheek a kiss. This only served to heighten their merriment and increase

his embarrassment, particularly as his _Cher ami_ swore she had not had

a buss like it since the death of her own dear dead and departed Phelim,

the last of her four husbands, who died of a whiskey fever, bawling for

pratees and buttermilk, and was waked in a coal-shed.

This mark of the Lady's favour was not so favourably received by

Tallyho, and, determined to make his escape, he gave Moll a violent

fling from him, overturned her and her basket, knock'd down two of the

Chimney-sweepers, and then with a leap as if he had been springing at

a five-barred gate, jumped over his late companion, who lay sprawling

among the flue-fakers, and effected his purpose, to the inexpressible

amusement of those, who, after enjoying a hearty laugh at him, now

transferred their risibility to those he left behind. Finding himself

once more unshackled, he smack'd his whip with enthusiasm, and repeated

his Tallyho with increased effect; for it was immediately answered, and,

without waiting for its final close, he found the person from whom it

was ~409~~ proceeding to be no other than a Turk, who was precipitately

entering one of the rooms, and was as quickly recognized by him to be

the Hon. Tom Dashall. The alteration which a Turkish turban and pelisse

had effected in his person, would however have operated as an effectual

bar to this discovery, had he not seized him in the very moment of

vociferation; and although his Cousin had been the chief cause of the

adventures he had already met with, he had at the same time kept an eye

upon Bob, and been equally instrumental in effecting his release from

embarrassment.

“Come,” said Tom, “I am for a little gig in the Room--how long have

you been here?--I thought I should find you out, very few can disguise

themselves from me; we will now be spectators for half an hour, and

enjoy the mirth excited by others.”

“With all my heart,” rejoined Bob, “for I am almost as tired already as

if I had spent a whole day in a fox-chase, and have run as many risks

of my neck; so that a cool half hour's observation will be very

acceptable.”

They had scarcely entered the Room, as a Priscilla Tomboy passed them at

full speed with a skipping-rope, for whose accommodation every one made

way; and who, having skipped round the room to shew her fine formed

ancle and flexibility of limbs, left it for a moment, and returned with

a large doll, which she appeared as pleased with as a child of eight

or ten years of age. A Jemmy Jumps assured Tom, that his garments

were altogether unsuitable to the nation in which he was residing, and

recommended that he should not exist another day without that now very

fashionable appendage of a Gentleman's dress called stays--An excellent

Caleb Quotem, by his smartness of repartee and unceasing volubility of

speech in recounting his labours of a day--“a summer's day,” as the poet

says, afforded much amusement by his powers of out-talking the fribble

of a Staymaker, who, finding himself confused by his eternal clack, fled

in search of another customer. A Don Quixote was conferring the honour

of knighthood on a clumsy representative of the God of Love, and

invoking his aid in return, to accomplish the object of finding his

lost Dulcinea. An outlandish fancy-dressed character was making an

assignation with a Lady, who, having taken the veil and renounced the

sex, kindly consented to forego ~410~~ her vows and meet him again;

while a Devil behind her was hooking the cock'd-hat of the gay deceiver

to the veil of the Nun, which created considerable laughter, for as

they attempted to separate, they were both completely unmasked, and

discovered, to the amazement of Tallyho, two well-known faces, little

expected there by him--no other than Merrywell as the Dandy Officer, and

his friend Mr. Safebind as the Nun. The exposure rather confused

them, while Tom and Bob joined the merry Devil in a loud burst of

laughter--they however bustled through the room and were quickly lost.

[Illustration: page410 Masquerade]

A French _Frisseur_, without any knowledge of the language of the nation

from which he appeared to come, could only answer a question _a la

Françoise_ from the accomplished Tom Dashall, by a volume of scented

powder from his puff, which being observed by a Chimney-sweeper,

was returned by dust of another colour from his soot-bag, till the

intermixture of white and black left it difficult to decide which was

the Barber and which the Sweep. They were now suddenly attracted by a

grotesque dance between a Clown of the Grimaldi school and a fancy Old

Woman in a garment of patch-work made in an ancient fashion. A red nose,

long rows of beads for ear-rings, and a pair of spectacles surmounted by

a high cauled-cap, decorated with ribbons of various hues, rendered

her the most conspicuous character in the room: and notwithstanding

her high-heeled shoes, she proved herself an excellent partner for the

Clown.

By this time, Bob, who was anxious to carry his plan into execution,

began to be fidgetty, and proposed a walk into the open air again. As

they left the room, his ears were attracted by the following song by a

Watchman, which he could not help stopping to catch, and which afforded

his Cousin an excellent opportunity of giving him the slip:

“Fly, ye prigs,{1} for now's the hour,

(Tho' boosey kids{2} have lost their power,)

When watchful Charleys,{3} like the Sun,

Their nightly course of duty run

Beneath the pale-faced moon;

1 Prigs--Pickpockets.

2 Boosey kids--Drunken men.

3 Charleys--A cant term for watchmen.

But take this warning while ye fly,

That if you nibble, click,{1} or clye,{2}

My sight's so dim, I cannot see,

Unless while you the blunt{3} tip me:

Then stay, then stay;

For I shall make this music speak,{4}

And bring you up before the Beak,{5}

Unless the chink's in tune.

Now, ye rambling sons of night,

Or peep-o'-day boys{6} on your flight,

Well prim'd with Jack or Child Tom's juice,

While you the silver key{7} produce,

Your safety then is clear.

But snuffy,{8} and not up to snuff,{9}

You'll And your case is queer enough;

Shell out the nonsense;{10} half a quid{11}

Will speak more truth than all your whid:{12}

Then go, then go;

For, if you linger on your way,

You'll for my music dearly pay,

I'll quod you, never fear.”

Turning round with laughter from this character, who had attracted many

hearers, he look'd in vain for Dashall, and was not displeased to find

he had fled. He therefore hastily withdrew from the scene of merriment,

and according to the instructions previously received, and for which

he had prepared, quickly changed his dress, and appeared again in the

character of a Judge, under the impression hinted by his counsellor,

that the gravity of his wig and gown, with a steady countenance,

1 Click--A contraction of the word clicker, for a watch.

2 Clye--A pocket-handkerchief.

3 Blunt--Money.

4 Music--Alluding to the rattle.

5 Beak--A magistrate.

6 Peep-o'-day boys--Staunch good ones--reeling home after

the frolics of the night.

7 Silver key--Money which is thus termed, as it is supposed

to open all places, and all hearts.

“If you are sick and like to die,

And for the Doctor send,

Or have the cholic in your eye,

Still money is your friend--is it not?”

8 Snuffy--Drunk.

9 Up to Snuff---Elevation of ideas.

10 Shell out the nonsense--To pay money.

11 Half a quid--Half a guinea.

12 Whid--Words or talk.

~412~~ would be a quiet and peaceable part to get through, and shield

him from the torment of those whom Bob suspected willing to play tricks

with him should he be discovered. Here however he again found himself

at fait, for he had scarcely entered the Gardens, before a host of

depredators were brought before him for trial. The Charleys brought in

succession, drunken Fiddlers, Tinkers and Barbers; and appeals were

made to his patience in so many voices, and under so many varying

circumstances, that Justice was nearly running mad, and poor Tallyho

could find no chance of making a reply. An uproar from the approaching

crowd, announced some more than ordinary culprit; and, in a moment, who

should appear before him but a Don Giovanni, and the hooking Devil, Here

was a fine case for decision; the Devil claimed the Don as his property,

and addressed the Representative of Justice as follows:--

“Most learned and puissant Judge!

“Protect my rights as you would the rights of man; I claim my property,

and will have my claim allowed.”

“Hold,” replied Bob, “if that is the case, you have no occasion to

appeal to me--begone, black wretch, and in thy native shades yell forth

thy discordant screams.”

“Most righteous Judge!--a second Daniel!” cried a bearded Shylock, with

his knife and scales, “he shan't escape me--I'll have my bond--so bare

his bosom 'next the heart'--let me come near him.”

“This is playing the Devil, indeed,” said the Don.

“By the Powers!” cried a 'Looney Mackwolteb,' “he's jump'd out of the

fire into the frying-pan; and, when the Smouchee has done wid him, he

may be grill'd in his own fat.”

At this moment, a Leporello, who caught the last words of the Irishman,

burst into the presence of the Judge, singing--

“Zounds, Sir, they'll grill you now, lean or fat, I know what games you

were always at, And told you before what harm you would hatch: Now the

old Gentleman's found you out, He'll clap us all in the round-about; Let

us be off, ere they call for the Watch.”

The word Watch was re-echoed in a thousand voices; the vociferations of

the callers, the noise of the rattles, ~413~~ and the laughter of

those immediately surrounding the judgment-seat, offered so good an

opportunity for escape, that Giovanni, determining to have another

chance, burst from the grasp of the arch enemy of mankind, to pursue

his wonted vagaries, to the no small gratification of Bob, who, without

actually acquitting the prisoner, rejoiced at his own escape.

He had however scarcely time to congratulate himself, before he was

annoyed by a Postman, in the usual costume, whom he had already seen

delivering letters to the company; the contents of which appeared to

afford considerable amusement; and who, presenting a letter addressed

to The Lord Chief Justice Bunglecause, in a moment disappeared. Breaking

open the envelope, he read with astonishment the following lines:--

“Tho' justice prevails

Under big wigs and tails,

You've not much of law in your nob;

So this warning pray take,

Your big wig forsake,

And try a more modern scratch, Bob.”

“Go along Bob--Lord Chief Justice Bob in a scratch,” cried a Waterman

at his elbow, (who had heard him reading) in a voice loud enough to be

heard at some distance.

“There he'll be at home to a hair,” squeaked a little finicking

personification of a modern Peruquier, sidling up to him, picking his

teeth with a tortoise-shell comb.

Bob, in bursting hastily away, under the reiterated cries of “Go along

Bob--Lord Chief Justice Bob,” with the idea of overtaking the Postman,

found himself in a moment lock'd in the close embraces of a Meg

Merrilies; while a little bandy-legg'd representative of the late Sir

Jeffery Dunstan, bawling out, Ould wigs, Ould wigs, made a snatch at the

grave appendage of Justice, and completely dismantled the head of its

august representative. This delayed him in his progress, but it was

merely to witness the wig flying in the air, with as much mirth to the

surrounding company as when the greasy night-cap of the Rev. George

Harvest was toss'd about the pit at the theatre, each one giving it a

swing who could get within reach of it. Thus mutilated in his ~414~~

apparel, and probably conceiving, according to the song,

“The wig's the thing, the wig, the wig,

The wisdom's in the wig,”

Bob Tallyho took flight into a dressing-room, declaring justice was

abroad and propriety not at home. He was however rather at a loss, as

in his last character he had not been able to meet with the Turk, but

determined to resume the search in a 'Domino. Having therefore equipped

himself as a spectator, he again sallied forth with intention to explore

the room, and for a time remained comparatively unmolested; but as he

could no where find his Cousin, he strolled indiscriminately among the

characters, viewing whatever appeared amusing or interesting in his

way. The fineness of the weather greatly animated the scene, and

gave increased brilliancy and effect to the illuminations, which

were disposed in a numerous variety of splendid devices, representing

national trophies, stars, wreaths, and crowns of laurel. It was the

first moment he had found an opportunity of viewing the place in which

he had been acting.

The amusements of the evening were judiciously varied, and protracted

by a constant succession of entertainments of various descriptions. Mr.

Chalons exhibited many of his most surprising deceptions in the rotunda;

where also young Gyngell displayed some capital performances on the

slack-wire. In the long room the celebrated fantoccini exhibition, with

groupes of quadrille dancers, enlivened the scene. In one walk of the

garden, Mr. Gyngell's theatre of arts was erected, where were exhibited

balancing, the _Ombres Chinoises_, gymnastic exercises, and other

feats, and Mr. Gyngell performed several airs on the musical glasses; in

another, Punchinello delighted the beholders with his antics; in a

third a very expert Juggler played a variety of clever tricks and

sleight-of-hand deceptions, and a couple of itinerant Italians exhibited

their musical and mechanical show-boxes; in another part of the gardens

the celebrated Diavolo Antonio went through his truly astonishing

evolutions on the _corde volante_. The Duke of Gloucester's fine

military band occupied the grand orchestra; an excellent quadrille band

played throughout the night in the long room, while a Scottish reel

band in the rotunda, and ~415~~ a Pandean band in the gardens, played

alternately reels, waltzes, and country dances.

This interval of peace was truly acceptable to Bob, and he did not fail

to make the most of it, roving like the bee from one delight to another,

sipping pleasure as he went, almost regretting he had not taken the last

dress first, though he was every now and then importuned by Mendicants

and Servant girls, very desirous to obtain places of all work. The

introduction of a Dancing Bear, who appeared to possess more Christian

qualities than his Leader, attracted his attention; but, in pressing to

the scene of action, he received a floorer from a Bruiser in gloves, who

mill'd indiscriminately all who came in his way, till the Bear took the

shine out of him by a fraternal embrace; and his Leader very politely

asked those around which they thought the greater bear of the two. Upon

rising, Bob found himself in the hands of two itinerant Quack Doctors,

each holding an arm, and each feeling for his pulse. One declared the

case was mortal, a dislocation of the neck had taken place, and there

was no chance of preserving life except by amputation of the head.

The other shook his head, look'd grave, pull'd out his lancet, and

prescribed phlebotomy and warm water.

Bob, who had received no injury, except a little contusion occasioned by

the blow, seized the ignorant practitioners by the throat, and knocking

their heads together, exclaimed with a stentorian voice,

“Throw physic to the clogs, I'll none on't.” “Go along Bob,” was

repeated again, as loud and as long as before; he however burst from

those around him in pursuit of fresh game; nor was he disappointed, for

he presently found a dapper young Clergyman in gown and surplice,

and who, with book in hand, was fervently engaged in exhortations and

endeavours to turn from the evil of their ways a drunken Sailor and

a hardened thief, (the Orson of the Iron Chest,) when the group were

surrounded by a detachment of the Imps and Devils of Giovanni in London,

a truly horrid and diabolical crew, who, by their hideous yells, frantic

capers, violent gestures, and the flaring of their torches, scared the

affrighted Parson from his task, made his intended penitents their own,

and became an almost intolerable ~416~~ nuisance to the rest of the

company for the remainder of the evening.

While he was thus engaged, the supper-boxes were thrown open, and the

company appeared to be all on the move towards the more substantial

entertainments of the evening. He was next suddenly detained by a Jew

Pedlar, who was anxious to shew him his wares.

“Get out, Smouchee,” said Bob.

“Ant is dat all vat you can say to a poor honesht Jew, what vants to

live by his 'trade, for vye you trow my religionsh in my teeth? I'm so

honesht vat I never cheats nobody--vill you puy a gould------l Vat you

take for your gown? I shall puy or sell, it's all the same to me.

“Now whatsoever country by chance I travel through, 'Tis all the same to

I, so the monies but comes in; Some people call me tief, just because I

am a Jew; So to make them tell the truth, vy I tinks there is no sin. So

I shows them all mine coots vid a sober, winning grace, And I sometimes

picks dere pockets whilst they're smiling in my face.”

Bob laugh'd, but declared he'd have nothing to do with him.

“Then,” said the Hon. Tom Dashall, “you may go along Bob.”

“What! is it possible? I have been looking for you these two hours.”

“I can't eat pork,” said Dashall, resuming his character.

“Come along,” said Bob, happy to find his relation; and catching him

by the arm, they proceeded to refreshment, and partook of an excellent

supper of cold viands plentifully supplied, and accompanied with a

profusion of ices and jellies, served up in a style highly creditable to

the managers.

Here they were joined by Mortimer, who had been as frolicsome as any imp

in the Gardens, in the character of the Devil, but who had lost sight

of the Dandy Officer and the Nun, whom he had so ingeniously hooked

together. The wine was good, and after enjoying their repast, Tom

and Mortimer enshrined themselves in dominos for the remainder of

the evening. The usual masquerade frolics and dancing were afterwards

continued, and about five in the morning they left this region of fun,

mirth and good humour.~417~~

CHAPTER XXVII

That Life is a picture of strange things and ways,

A grand exhibition, each hour displays;

And for London there's no place can with it compare,

'Tis a jumble of every thing curious and rare.

Cheap-side Bustlers--Fleet Street Hustlers,

Jockeys, Doctors--Agents, Proctors,

Bow Street Slangups--Bond Street Bangups,

Hide and Seekers--Opera Squeakers,

Lawyers, Tailors--Bailiffs, Jailors,

Shopmen, Butlers--Alderman Gutters,

Patriot Talkers--Sunday Walkers,

Dancers, Actors--Jews, Contractors,

Placemen, Croakers--Boxers, Brokers,

Swindlers, Coroners--Spies, and Foreigners,

And all, all to keep up the bubble of strife,

And prove ways and means--is the picture of Life.

THE bustle and merriment of the Masquerade were long remembered in the

mind of Bob Tallyho, and furnished frequent conversations between him

and his Cousin; and the laughable occurrences of the evening, in which

they had been engaged, were re-enjoyed in recollection, notwithstanding

the preparations they were making for an excursion of another kind

in the country, which though not exactly to the taste of Dashall, was

inflexibly persevered in by Tallyho.

Tom tried every effort in his power to prolong the appointed period

of departure in A'ain. The heart and mind of his Cousin appeared to

be occupied with anticipated delights, which he described in the most

glowing colours of imagination. The healthful fields, the enlivening fox

chase, and the sportive exercises of a country life, were detailed with

ecstacy; and though last, not least, the additional zest for the more

attractive scenes (in Tom's idea) that would present themselves for

inspection upon a return to the Metropolis. At length it was finally

arranged that their country excursion should not exceed 418~~ one month

in duration, and that they would leave London time enough to reach

Belville Hall on or before the first day of September.

Dashall, after consenting to this arrangement, finding there was not

much time to spare, was anxious to improve it in the pursuit of such

lively and interesting amusements as chance and accident might throw

in their way. “Come,” said he, a few mornings after the masquerade, “it

must not be said that you have been so long in London without viewing as

many of its important curiosities as the time would admit; though I am

sure we shall not have an opportunity of glancing at all those I could

point out, and I am pretty sure that persons from the country frequently

see more in a few days residence in the Metropolis, than those who have

inhabited it for their whole lives. We will therefore take a stroll out,

without any determined line of pursuit, and survey what chance may bring

in our way; for the places deserving of particular inspection are so

numerous, and lay in so many directions, that it is scarcely possible

for us to turn round without finding some objects and subjects yet in

store.

Thus saying, and taking the arm of his Cousin, they walked along

Piccadilly in a direction for the City; for as it was a clear morning,

Tom, although he had not mentioned the road he meant to take, still had

an object in view.

“It is certainly much to be deplored,” said he, as they were just

entering Leicester Square by Sydney's Alley, “that the abominable

nuisance of barrows being driven on the pavement cannot be removed; it

is a great shame that lusty and able fellows should be wheeling foul

linen, hogwash, and other filthy articles along the street, to the

annoyance and inconvenience of pedestrians.”

“I am of your opinion,” replied his Cousin; “but during the short time

I have been here, I have discovered many other equally objectionable

annoyances. There is, for instance, the carrying of milk pails, which,

unless great care is taken, are so likely to break people's shins; and

in dirty weather the trundling of boys' hoops, to the discomfiture of

many a well-dressed Lady.”

At this moment a butcher was passing with a tray heavily loaded, and Bob

narrowly escaped a blow from the projecting corner, which immediately

induced him to add that to the number of what he termed street ~419~~

grievances, and almost to overturn both the carrier and his load.

“A lucky escape,” said Dashall, “for you might have lost an eye by

coming in contact with that tray, and I wonder a stop is not put to the

probability of such fatal accidents. It is related that a certain

City Alderman, whose constitution, it may be presumed, is rather of a

combustible nature, by the alarms he spread during his mayoralty, of

the intention to burn the City of London, and destroy all its peaceable

inhabitants, thrashed a butcher who ran against him in the public

street. This it must be admitted was a summary mode of punishment,

although it was not likely to remove the nuisance; but there are still

many that are not enumerated in your list. Both by day and night in

the most frequented streets of the Metropolis and its environs, the

unoffending passengers of either sex are frequently obstructed on, or

absolutely pushed off the pavement by a trio of arm-in-arm puppies;

nay they will sometimes sweep the whole of the space from the wall

to the curb stone, by walking four abreast, a practice brutally

infringing the laws of civil society in pedestrian excursions through a

crowded Metropolis.

“I have however with pleasure, upon some occasions, seen these vile

trespassers meet with a just resentment in the unexpected pugilistic

exertions of the insulted party; and have almost rejoiced to see them

packed into a coach and sent home with bruises, black eyes, and bloody

noses, serving, it is to be hoped, as wholesome lessons for their future

conduct. In some cases duels have arisen from this violation of decorum

in the King's highway, and by this means, scoundrels have been admitted

to the undeserved honour of being met on a level by gentlemen.

“These,” continued he, “are the polite encroachers on the pavé.. There

are, however, many others, but of a less censurable, though certainly

of a finable description; such as journeymen bakers wheeling barrows

conveying the staff of life--publicans' boys collecting pewter

pots--lady drivers of similar vehicles, containing oysters, inferior or

damaged fruit, delicate prog for pug dogs, cats, &c.

“After all, the most prominent offenders, or at least obstructors of

the public way, in my opinion, are those sturdy John Bulls, brewers'

servants, by means of ropes ~420~~ and pulleys affixed to their drays,

lowering down beer into, or drawing up empty casks from the cellars of

public-houses. Now although this may be unavoidable, ask one of these

bluff bipeds to let you pass, the consequence frequently will be,

instead of rough civility, an insolent reply accompanied with vulgar

oaths; in short, a torrent of abuse, if not a shove into the kennel;

perhaps a grimy rope thrown against your white stockings. Private,

emolument and convenience certainly ought to give way to public

accommodation.”

“Confound that dustman's bell,” said Bob, as they passed down

Wych-street; “it is as bad as any thing we nave mentioned yet; it

absolutely deafens one.”

“Oh, if you call noises nuisances, we may go on with a list from this

time to this day month, and scarcely comprehend them. The cries of

London are many of them very laughable, and many very lamentable, and by

way of contrast to the deafening dustman, take care of the bespatterings

from the mud cart. The garlick-eating rogues, the drivers of these

inconvenient conveniences, grinning horribly their ghastly smiles, enjoy

a most malicious pleasure in the opportunities which chance affords

them, of lending a little additional decoration from the contents of

their carts, by way of embellishment to a cleanly dressed passenger.

Therefore keep, if possible, at such a respectful distance as to avoid

the effects of this low envy, and steer clear of the mudlarks.”

By this time they had passed through the line of leading thoroughfares,

and had St. Paul's in their view, when Tom took occasion to remark, “He

was sorry the scaffolding was not removed, or,” continued he, “we would

soon have mounted above these petty considerations, and looked down upon

the world. However, we can take a tolerable survey of the metropolis

from the Monument, and as it is not much farther, we may as well extend

our walk to that celebrated pillar, said to be one of the finest in the

world, and erected by Sir Christopher Wren in memory of the great

fire which in 1666 broke out at a house on the spot, and destroyed the

metropolis from Tower Hill to Temple Bar. From this pillar you will have

a fine panoramic view of London, Westminster, and Southwark; and as we

are about to leave its noise, its bustle, and its inconveniences in a

day or two, we may as well take a general survey.”

~421~~ Bob having signified his consent to this proposal, they made the

best of their way to the Monument, where having deposited the customary

entrance money with the door-keeper, they were allowed to ascend by the

winding staircase to the top, when a prospect was presented to the eye

of Tallyho, of which he could not have formed any previous conception.

The view of the river as far as the eye could reach, each way, the

moving of the boats, the bustle and activity of the streets, and the

continued hum which arose to their ears, formed altogether a subject

of delightful contemplation; while the appearance of being as it were

suspended in the air, rendered it awful and terrific. Bob had almost

grown giddy in his ascension, and for some time took care to keep a

fast hold of the iron railings at top, in order to secure himself from

falling; till Dashall drew from his pocket a telescope, and directed

his attention to Greenwich Hospital, Shooter's Hill, and the public

buildings at a distance, where they were scarcely discernible by the

naked eye. Bob was delighted with the view of Greenwich Hospital, and

the account which his Cousin gave him of the establishment; and upon

descending they took a complete walk round this celebrated pillar,

marking its decorations and reading the inscription.

“It is,” said Tom, “a fluted column of the Doric order; the total height

is 202 feet, the diameter at the base 15 feet, and the height of the

column 120 feet; the cone at the top, with its urn, are 42 feet; the

height of the massy pedestal is 40 feet; there are 345 steps inside;

but,” continued he, “it is really a great pity that this beautiful

Monument should be in such a confined situation, for in a proper

place it would form one of the most striking objects of the kind that

architecture is capable of producing.

“The inscription, it is true,” continued Dashall, “had better be erased,

it contains a libel, or more properly a lie, which almost contradicts

itself, for no rational being can entertain the notion that the

Catholics, or indeed any religious sect, could wilfully have perpetrated

so horrible a deed as this pillar was intended to impute to them; nor

can so much credit be given to human foresight as for it to be concluded

that a fire, which broke out in a single house, could upon this, rather

than upon other occasions, have extended its ravages in so extraordinary

a manner.--

~422~~ While we arc on the spot we will take a peep at a curious piece

of antiquity; not that I am so great a lover of such curiosities, but it

would appear almost unpardonable for you to have been in London without

seeing London Stone.”

“I have heard of it,” said Tallyho, “and if we are near, let us have a

view.”

“Come on then,” said Dashall; “This same London Stone is at present

fixed close under the south wall of St. Swithin's Church, Cannon

Street. It has by some been supposed of British origin, a kind of solemn

boundary, or some other object probably of a religious nature, which

through every change and convulsion of the State has been preserved with

reverential care. But this is the very place,” said he.

Bob stared about him with surprise, to discover this curious and

apparently valuable relic, without finding it, till at length his

Cousin directed his attention to the spot, which at present is under a

pitching-block, or resting-place for persons carrying heavy loads, and

almost burst into laughter, for he had raised his Cousin's expectation

by the previous description.

“How!” said Tallyho, “and is this your curiosity?”

“Even so,” replied Tom, “that is the celebrated London Stone; it

formerly stood nearer the middle of the street, was placed deep in the

ground, and strongly fixed with iron bars. According to account, the

first mention of it was in the reign of Ethelstan, king of the West

Saxons, and it has been usually viewed by our antiquaries as a military

stone, from which the Romans began the computation of their miles, a

conjecture which certainly appears very reasonable, not only from the

discovery of the Roman road after the year 1666, running directly to

this stone from Watling Street, but from the exact coincidence which its

distance bears with the neighbouring station, mentioned in Antonine's

Itinerary, the principal of whose Journeys either begin or end with

London.”

The sound of a horn interrupted this conversation.

“Apropos,” said Tom, “we can take the Post Office in our way, a place of

considerable importance; so allons.”

They now pursued their way to Lombard Street.

“This collection of buildings,” said Dashall, as they entered,

“important as its concerns are to the nation, claims no praise as a

building. It stands behind Lombard ~423~~ Street, from which, on the

south side of the street, there is a passage leading to it, under an

arched gateway.

“A plan has, however, been adopted for erecting a building worthy of

this great establishment, on the site now called St. Martin's-le-grand,

and to improve the access to it by pulling down the east ends of Newgate

Street and Paternoster-Row. It is now proceeding rapidly.

“The Post-office system is, however, one of the most perfect regulations

of finance and convenience existing under any government. It has

gradually been brought to its present perfection, being at first in the

hands of individuals, and replete with abuses. In its present form it

not only supplies the government with a great revenue, but accomplishes

that by means highly beneficial to the persons contributing.

“The Post-office is the most important spot on the surface of the globe.

It receives information from all countries; it distributes instructions

to the antipodes; it connects together more numerous and distant

interests of men than any similar establishment. It is in the highest

degree hitherto realized, the seat of terrestrial perception and

volition--the brain of the whole earth; and hitherto it has been in a

narrow valley, misshapen even to deformity, and scarcely accessible to

the few mail coaches which collect there for their nightly freights.

“The present Post-office was erected in 1660; but great additions have

been made to it from time to time, though the whole is disjointed and

inconvenient.

“The mode of carrying letters by the General Post was greatly improved

a few years since, by a most admirable plan, invented by Mr. Palmer.

Previously to its adoption, letters were conveyed by carts, without

protection from robbery, and subject to delays. At present they are

carried, according to Mr. Palmer's plan, by coaches, distinguished

by the name of mail-coaches, provided with a well-armed guard, and

forwarded at the rate of eight miles an hour, including stoppages.

Government contracts with coach-keepers merely for carrying the mail,

the coach-owner making a profitable business besides, of carrying

passengers and parcels. It is not easy to imagine a combination of

different interests to one purpose, more complete than this. The

wretched situation, however, of the horses, on account of the length

of the stages which they are frequently driven, is a disgrace to the

character ~424~~ of the British nation, and requires the interference of

the legislature. No stage should exceed twelve miles in length.

“The rapidity of this mode of conveyance is unequalled in any country,

and the present rate of charge for each passenger is little more than

sixpence per mile.

“Houses having boxes, for receiving letters before five o'clock, are

open in every part of the Metropolis; and after that hour bell-men

collect the, letters during another hour, receiving a fee of one 'penny

for each letter. But, at the General Post-office, in Lombard Street,

letters are received till seven o'clock: after which time, till half an

hour after seven, a fee of sixpence must be paid; and from half after

seven till a quarter before eight, the postage must also be paid, as

well as the fee of sixpence.”

“Well,” said Tallyho, “for a place of such public utility and constant

resort, I must confess I expected to see a building of the most

magnificent kind; but I am also puzzled to conceive how such extensive

business can be carried on with so much regularity as it is.”

“Your observation,” replied his Cousin, “exactly coincides with that

of many others; but you will some day or other be as much surprised

on other subjects, for there are places in London where mercantile and

legal business is conducted in situations of obscurity, of which you can

have no conception; but as a national establishment, though its internal

regulations are good, its external appearance is no recommendation to

it. But come, let us proceed towards home, I have a call or two to make

on the road, for as we depart quickly for the open fields, and are to

bid adieu to London smoke as well as London Stone, we have but little

time to spare, so let us post away.”

Bob, alive to this subject, did not require a second hint, but taking

the arm of Dashall, they proceeded along Cheapside, made a call at

Mortimer's, the Gun-smith's on Ludgate hill, provided themselves with

all necessary shooting apparatus; and Tom, ever mindful of the variety

which he conceived would be needful to render rusticity agreeable on

their way, purchased a pair of boxing gloves, a backgammon board, and

other amusing articles, to provide, as he said, against a rainy day.

On arrival at home, they were presented with a letter from Sparkle,

announcing his arrival at his new mansion, and expressing a hope that he

should have the pleasure of ~425~~ meeting his friends within a day or

two; expatiating with great apparent delight upon the happiness of his

own situation, and promising lots of amusement, in detailing to them the

events of his peregrinations. This operated as an additional spur to the

speed of their departure, and it was agreed that they should start the

next morning.

“I don't know,” said Bob, “whether I should really like a continued

Life in London; I have seen many of its comforts and many of its

inconveniences.” “Then,” replied Tom, “you may certainly, by the

exercise of your reason, and the decision of your judgment, upon mature

reflection, strike the balance; and if you do not give it in favour of

the former, I shall entertain doubts upon your sagacity.”

“Well,” continued Bob, “I shall now have a fine opportunity for drawing

out a distinct account, and when done, I will submit the result to your

inspection.”

Every thing being prepared, they were on the road to Belville Hall at an

early hour the next morning.

As the occurrences of a Country excursion, or the delineation of a

Country Life, form no part of the intended plan of this Work, we shall

not enter into any detailed account; but leaving our Heroes in the

pursuit of fresh game, under new circumstances, and in somewhat

new situations, bear in our minds their intended return, to engage,

contemplate, and enjoy a future review of the complicated, yet ever new

and ever varying scenes of a Real Life in London, with a determination

to meet them on arrival, and not lose sight of them in their future

rambles.

END OF VOL. I.

REAL LIFE IN LONDON

OR, THE

FURTHER RAMBLES AND ADVENTURES OF BOB TALLYHO, ESQ.,

AND HIS COUSIN THE HON. TOM DASHALL, ETC., THROUGH

THE METROPOLIS; EXHIBITING A LIVING PICTURE

OF FASHIONABLE CHARACTERS, MANNERS, AND

AMUSEMENTS IN HIGH AND LOW LIFE

BY an AMATEUR

EMBELLISHED AND ILLUSTRATED WITH A SERIES OF

COLOURED PRINTS, DESIGNED AND ENGRAVED

BY MESSRS. HEATH, AIKEN, DIGHTON,

BROOKE, ROWLANDSON, ETC.

VOLUME II

A NEW EDITION

METHUEN & CO. LONDON

Chapter I.

A return to the metropolis, 2. Instance of exorbitant

charges, 3. Field-marshal Count Bertrand, 4. Lines on the

late Napoleon, 5. A mysterious vehicle, 6. The devil in Long

Acre, 7. The child in the hay, 8. A family triumvirate, 9.

Egyptian monuments, 10. Relations of Gog and Magog

discovered, 11. The Theban ram, 12. Egyptian antiquities,

13. Egyptian mummies, &c. 14. Curiosities of the museum, 15.

Statues of Bedford and Fox, 16. The knowing one deceived,

17. Covent Garden Market, 18. Miss Linwood's exhibition, 19.

Chapter II.

Tothill-fields Bridewell, 20. Perversion of justice, 21. A

laudable resolution, 22. Success and disappointment, 23. A

story out of the face, 24. A critical situation, 25. A hair-

breadth escape, 26. Kidnappers, or crimps, 27. Summary

justice averted, 28. Swindling manoeuvres, 29. Estates, &c.

in nubibus, 30. Fetters and apathy, 31. Urchin thief

picking-pockets, 32. Juvenile depravity, 33.

Chapter III.

Life in St. George's Fields, 34. Chums--Day rules, &c. 35.

Hiring a horse--A bolter, 36. Characters of Abbot's priory,

37. Introductory sketch, 38. The flying pieman, 39.

Commercial activity, 40. A cutting joke, 41. Magdalen

Hospital, 42. Curious anecdote, 43. Surrey Theatre, &c, 44.

Admixture of characters, &c. 45.

Chapter IV.

Entry to Abbott's park, 46. A world within walls, 47.

Finding a friend at home, 48. Exterior of the chapel, 49. A

finish to education, 50. The walking automaton, 51. The

parliamentary don, 52. The tape merchant, &c. 53. A morning

in the Bench, 54. Prison metamorphoses, 55. Friendly

congratulations, 56. Preparations for a turn to, 57. The

college cries, 58. Another real character, 59. A mutual

take-in, 60. A college dinner, 61. Free from college rules,

62. A heavy-wet party, 63. Keeping the game alive, 64. An

agreeable surprise, 65. Harmony disturbed, 66.

Chapter V.

London munificence, 67. Vauxhall Bridge, 68. Millbank

Penitentiary, 69. Metamorphoses of time, 70. Cobourg

Theatre, 71. Retrospection, 72. Intellectual progress, 73.

Wonders of the moderns, 74. Bridge-Street association, 75.

Infidel pertinacity, 76. City coffee house, 77. St. Paul's

Cathedral, 78. Clockwork and great bell, 79. Serious

cogitations disturbed, 80. A return homeward, 81.

Chapter VI.

Westminster Abbey, 82. Monuments--Poets' corner, 83. Henry

Seventh's chapel, 84. Interesting prospect, 85. Fees exacted

for admission, 86. Westminster Hall--Whitehall, 87. Sir

Robert Wilson, 88. Temptations to depredation, 89. Sympathy

excited, 90. A sad story strangely told, 91. Fleet Street--

Doctor Johnson, 92. Fleet Market, 93. The market in an

uproar, 94. The rabbit pole-girl, 95. Princess of

Cumberland, 96. Doubts of royal legitimacy, 97. Mud-larks,

picking up a living, 98. The boil'd beef house, 99. A

spunger, 100. Gaol of Newgate, 101. Jonathan Wild's

residence, 102. Entering the Holy Land, 103. The Holy Land,

104. Salt herrings and dumplings, 105. Deluge of beer, 106.

Mrs. C*r*y, 107. Andrew Whiston, 108.

Chapter VII.

A dinner party, 109. Complimentary song, 110. Irish posting,

111. Extraordinary robbery, 112. Follies of fashion--ennui,

113. A set-to in a gambling house, 114. A nunnery--the Lady

abbess, 115. Life in a cellar, 116. Advantageous offer

rejected, 117. “Bilge water not whiskey,” 118. Aqua fortis

and aqua fifties, 119. A quarrel--appeal to justice, 120.

Finale of a long story, 121.

Chapter VIII.

An unexpected visitor, 122. Private accommodations, 123. The

hero of Waterloo, 124. “The lungs of the metropolis,” 125.

How to cut up a human carcass. 126. Resurrectionists, 127. A

perambulation of discovery, 128. Irish recognition, 129. A

discovery--Mother Cummings, 130. Wife hunting, 131.

Elopement, 132. Female instability, 133. Manouvres Return to

town, 134. Making the most of a good thing, 135. Ingenious

female shop-lifter, 136.

Chapter IX.

Thieves of habit and necessity, 137. A felicitous meeting,

138. Shopping--Ludicrous anecdote, 139. A tribute of

respect, 140. Royal waxworks, Fleet Street, 141. Sir Felix

as Macbeth, 142. Irish love, 143. Apathy in the midst of

danger, 144. “No wassel in the lob,” 145. The bear at

Kensington Palace, 146.

Chapter X.

A change of pursuits, 147. Almack's Rooms, 148. A fancy-

dress ball, 149. Selection of partners, 150. Family

portraits, 151. A rout and routed, 152. Pleasures of

matrimony, 153. The discomfited Virtuoso, 154.

Chapter XI.

Frolics of Greenwich fair, 155. Dr. Eady--Wall chalking,

156. Packwood and puffing, 157. Greenwich Hospital, 158.

Greenwich pensioners, 159. Veterans at ease, 160. The old

commodore, 161. “Fought his battles o'er again,” 162. The

Chapel--Hall, &e. 163.

Chapter XII.

An early hour in Piccadilly, 164. Cleopatra's needle, 165. A

modest waterman, 166. Interesting scenery, 167. Philosophy

in humble life, 168. Southwark Bridge, 169. London Bridge-

The Shades, 170. Itinerant musicians, 171. “Do not leave

your goods,” 172. Riches of Lombard Street, 173. Mansion

House, 174. Curious case in justice room, 175. A reasonable

proposition, 176.

Chapter XIII.

An hour in the Sessions House, 177. A piteous tale of

distress, 178. Low life, 179. Serious business, 180. A

capture, 181. Johnny-raws and green-horns, 182. Decker the

prophet, 183. A devotee in danger, 184.

Chapter XIV.

A morning at home, 185. High life, 186. Converting felony

into debt, 187. Scene in a madhouse, 188. Apathy of

undertakers, 189. A provident undertaker, 190. A bribe

rejected, 191. Antiquated virginity, 192. Arrangements for

Easter, 193. A Sunday morning lounge, 194. Setting out for

Epping hunt, 195. Involuntary flight, 196. Motley groups on

the road, 197. Disasters of cockney sportsmen, 198. A

beautiful crature of sixty, 199. Tothill-fields fair, 200.

Whimsical introduction, 201. Ball at the Mansion-House, 202.

Chapter XV.

Guildhall, 203. Palace Yard--Relieving Guard, 204. The

regions below, 205. An old friend in the dark, 206. Seeing

clear again, 207. A rattler, 208.

Chapter XVI.

Civic festivity, 209. Guildhall, 210. Council chamber--

Paintings, 211. City public characters, 212. A modern

Polyphemus, 213. A classic poet, 214. Rhyming contagious,

215. Smithfield prad-sellers, 216. Jockeyship in the east,

217. A peep at the Theatre, 218. The Finish, Covent Garden,

219. Wags of the Finish, 220. Smoking and joking, 222.

Chapter XVII.

A morning visit, 223. The fine arts, 224. Public

exhibitions, 225. Living artists, 226. Horse Guards--

Admiralty, 227. Westminster Bridge, 228. Promenade Rooms,

229. Improvements in the Park, 230. Ludicrous anecdote, 231.

A crazy fabric, 232. Regal splendour, 233. Marlborough

House, 234. Limmer's Hotel, 235. Laconic prescription, 236.

How to take it all, 237. How to get a suit of clothes, 238.

Ingenious swindling, 239. Talent perverted, 240.

Chapter XVIII.

The Harp, Drury Lane, 241. Wards of city of Lushington, 242.

The social compact, 243. A popular election, 244. Close of

the poll, 245. Oratorical effusions, 246. Harmony and

conviviality, 247. Sprees of the Market, 248. A lecture on

heads, 249. A stroll down Drury Lane, 250. A picture of real

characters, 251. “The burning shame,” 253. Ludicrous

procession, 254.

Chapter XIX.

An old friend returned, 255. A good object in view, 256. An

alarming situation, 257. Choice of professions, 258. Pursuit

of fortune, 259. Advantages of law, 260. A curious law case,

261. Further arrangements, 262.

Chapter XX.

St. George's day, 263. Royalty on the wing, 264. Progress to

the levee, 265. An unfortunate apothegm, 266. How to adjust

a quarrel, 267. Wisdom in wigs, 268. A classical

acquaintance, 269. Royal modesty, 270. Ludicrous anecdote,

271. A squeeze in the drawing-room, 272. Pollution of the

sanctorum, 273. Procession of mail coaches, &c. 274. A

parody, 275. Two negatives make a positive, 276. Remarkable

anecdote, 277. Marrow-bones and cleavers, 278. The king and

the laureat, 279. A remonstrance, 280. Hint at retrenchment,

281.

Chapter XXI.

Diversity of opinions, 282. A fresh start, 283. A critique

on names, 284. The Cafe Royale, Regent Street, 285. A

singular character, 286. Quite inexplicable, 287.

Development, 288. Aquatic excursion, 289. A narrow escape,

290. Tower of London, 291. The lost pilot found, 295. River

gaiety, 296. Rowing match, 297.

Chapter XXII.

The tame hare, 298. Ingenuity of man, 299. London sights and

shows, 300. Automaton chess player, 301. South sea bubble,

302. New City of London tavern, 303. Moorfields, 304.

Epitaph collector, 305. Monumental gleanings, 307.

Voluminous collectors, 309. A horned cock, 310.

Extraordinary performance, 311. Female salamander, 312.

Regent's Canal, 313. Anecdote of a gormandizer, 314. Eating

a general officer alive, 315. A field orator, 316.

Chapter XXIII.

Munster simplicity, 317. A visit to an astrologer, 318. A

peep into futurity, 319. Treading-mill, 320. An unexpected

occurrence, 321. The sage taken in, 322. Statue of ill luck,

323. A concatenation of exquisites, 324. How to walk the

streets, 325. How to make a thoroughfare, 326. Dog stealers,

327. Canine knavery, 328. A vexatious affair, 329. How to

recruit your finances, 330. A domestic civic dinner, 331.

The very respectable man, 332.

Chapter XXIV.

Vauxhall Gardens, 334, Various amusements, 335. Sober

advice, 336. Fashionable education, 337. University

education, 338. Useful law proceedings, 339. How to punish a

creditor, 340. Exalted characters, 341. Profligacy of a

peer, 342. Mr. Spankalong, 343. Other characters of ton,

344. Sprig of fashion, 345. An everlasting prater, 346. And

incorrigible fribble, 347. Kensington Gardens and Park, 348.

Statue of Achilles, 349.

Chapter XXV.

A medley of characters, 353. Fashionables, 354. More

fashionables, 355. More life in St. Giles's, 356.

Reconnoitring--a discovery, 357. Tragedy prevented, 358.

Fat, fair, and forty, 359. Philosophic coxcombs, 360 Blanks

in society, 361.

Chapter XXVI.

A ride, 362. Exceptions to trade rivalship, 363. Effects of

superior education, 364. Affectation in names, 365.

Portraits of governesses, 366. Road to matrimony, 367.

Villainy of private madhouses, 369. Appearances may deceive,

370.

Chapter XXVII.

Pleasing intelligence, 371. Moralizing a little, 373. Cries

of London, 374. The Blacking Poet, 375. Literary squabble

376. Curious Merchandise, 377.

Chapter XXVIII.

A new object of pursuit, 378. Royal visit to Scotland, 379.

Embarkation, 381. Royal recollections, 38, 2.

Chapter XXIX.

Port of London, 383. Descriptive entertainment, 384. A rea

swell party, 385. An Irish dancing master, 386. Female

disaster, 387. Blackwall--East India Docks, 388. Sir Robert

Wigram, 389. Domestic happiness, 390. West India Docks, 391.

Loudon Docks, 393. News from home, 394.

Chapter XXX.

Travelling preparations, 395. Whimsical associations, 396.

Antiquity and origin of signs, 397. Signs of altered times,

398. Ludicrous corruptions, 399. A curious metamorphosis,

400. A sudden breeze, 401. A smell of powder, 402.

Chapter XXXI.

An unexpected visitor, 403. Sketches of fashionable life,

404. A Corinthian rout, 405. A Corinthian dinner party, 406.

A new picture of real life, 409. More wise men of the East,

411.

Chapter XXXII.

Anticipation of danger, 415. Smoke without fire, 416.

Fonthill Abbey, 417. Instability of fortune, 419. Wealth

without ostentation, 420. Eccentricity of character, 421.

Extremes meeting, 422.

Chapter XXXIII.

Sketches of new scenes, 423. A critical essay on taste, 424.

The pleasures of the table, 425. A whimsical exhibition,

426. Canine sobriety, 427.

Chapter XXXIV.

Anticipation, 428. Obligation, 429. Change of subjects, 430

Magasin de Mode, 431. Bell, Warwick Lane, 432. Bull and

Mouth Street, 433. Bull and Mouth Inn, 434. Jehu chaff, 435.

Adieu to London, 436.

LIST OF THE PLATES

The Ladder of Life Frontispiece.

Illustrated Title Page.

British Museum 10

King's-Bench Prison 62

King Charles's Crib 130

Blue Ruin

Almack's Rooms 196

Easter Hunt

Coster-mongers

A Stroll down Drury-Lane 250

Presentation at the Levée 263

Ascot Races

A Real Swell Party 386

Bull and Mouth Inn 434

REAL LIFE IN LONDON

CHAPTER I

With what unequal tempers are we form'd!

One day the soul, elate and satisfied,

Revels secure, and fondly tells herself

The hour of evil can return no more:

The next, the spirit, pall'd and sick of riot,

Turns all to discord, and we hate our being,

Curse our past joys, and think them folly all.

~1~~MATTER and motion, say Philosophers, are inseparable, and the

doctrine appears equally applicable to the human mind. Our country

Squire, anxious to testify a grateful sense of the attentions paid

him during his London visit, had assiduously exerted himself since his

return, in contributing to the pleasures and amusements of his visitors;

and Belville Hall presented a scene of festive hospitality, at once

creditable to its liberal owner, and gratifying to the numerous gentry

of the surrounding neighbourhood.

But however varied and numerous the sports and recreations of rural

life, however refined and select the circle of its society, they

possessed not the endless round of metropolitan amusement, nor those

ever-varying delights produced amid “the busy hum of men,” where every

street is replete with incident and character, and every hour fraught

with adventure.

Satiety had now evidently obtruded itself amid the party, and its

attendants, lassitude and restlessness, were not long in bringing up the

rear. The impression already made upon the mind of Bob by the cursory

view he had taken of Life in London was indelible, and it required

little persuasion on the part of his cousin, the Hon. Tom Dashall,

to induce him again to return to scenes of so much delight, and which

afforded such inexhaustible stores of amusement to an ardent and

youthful curiosity.

~2~~A return to the Metropolis having therefore been mutually agreed

upon, and every previous arrangement being completed, the Squire once

more abdicated for a season his paternal domains, and accompanied by

his cousin Dashall, and the whole _ci-devant_ party of Belville Hall,

arrived safe at the elegant mansion of the latter, where they planned

a new system of perambulation, having for its object a further

investigation of manners, characters, objects, and incidents, connected

with _Real Life in London_.

“Come,” cried Dashall, one fine morning, starting up immediately after

breakfast--

“----rouse for fresh game, and away let us haste,

The regions to roam of wit, fashion, and taste;

Like Quixote in quest of adventures set out,

And learn what the crowds in the streets are about;

And laugh when we must, and approve when we can,

Where London displays ev'ry feature of man.”

“The numerous hotels, bagnios, taverns, inns, coffee-houses,

eating-houses, lodging-houses, &c. in endless variety, which meet

the eye in all parts of the metropolis, afford an immediate choice

of accommodation, as well to the temporary sojourner as the permanent

resident; where may be obtained the necessaries and luxuries of life,

commensurate with your means of payment, from one shilling to a guinea

for a dinner, and from sixpence to thirty shillings a night for a

lodging!

“The stranger recommended to one of these hotels, who regales himself

after the fatigues of a journey with moderate refreshment, and retires

to rest, and preparing to depart in the morning, is frequently surprised

at the longitudinal appearance and sum total of his bill, wherein every

item is individually stated, and at a rate enormously extravagant.

Remonstrance is unavailable; the charges are those common to the house,

and in failure of payment your luggage is under detention, without

the means of redress; ultimately the bill must be paid, and the only

consolation left is, that you have acquired a useful, though

expensive lesson, how to guard in future against similar exaction and

inconvenience.”{1}

1 Marlborough Street.--Yesterday, Mrs. Hickinbottom, the

wife of Mr. Hickinbottom, the keeper of the St. Petersburgh

Hotel in Dover Street, Piccadilly, appeared to a summons to

answer the complaint of a gentleman for unlawfully detaining

his luggage under the following circumstances: The

complainant stated, that on Thursday evening last, on his

arrival in town from Aberdeen, he went to the White Horse

Cellar, Piccadilly; but the house being full, he was

recommended to the St. Petersburgh Hotel in Dover Street;

where, having taken some refreshment and wrote a letter, he

went to bed, and on the following morning after break-fast,

he desired the waiter to bring him his bill, which he did,

and the first item that presented itself was the moderate

charge of one pound ten shillings for his bed; and then

followed, amongst many others, sixpence for a pen, a

shilling for wax, a shilling for the light, and two and

sixpence for other lights; so that the bill amounted in the

whole to the sum of two pounds one shilling for his night's

lodging! To this very exorbitant charge he had refused to

submit; in consequence of which he had been put to great

inconvenience by the detention of his luggage. The

magistrate animadverted with much severity on such

extravagant charges on the part of the tavern-keeper, and

advised that upon the gentleman paying fifteen shillings,

the things might be immediately delivered up. To these

terms, however, Mrs. Hickinbottom refused to accede, adding

at the same time, that the gentleman had only been charged

the regular prices of the house, and that she should insist

upon the whole amount of the bill being paid, for that the

persons who were in the habit of coming to their house never

objected to such, the regular price of their lodgings being

ten guineas per week! The magistrate lamented that he had

no power to enforce the things being given up, but he

recommended the complainant to bring an action against the

tavern-keeper for the detention.

~3~~ These were the observations directed by Dashall to his friend,

as they passed, one morning, the _Hotel de la Sabloniere_ in Leicester

Square.

“Doubtless,” he continued, “in those places of affluent resort, the

accommodations are in the first style of excellence; yet with reference

to comfort and sociability, were I a country gentleman in the habit of

occasionally visiting London, my temporary domicile should be the snug

domesticated Coffee-house, economical in its charges and pleasurable in

the variety of its visitors, where I might, at will, extend or abridge

my evening intercourse, and in the retirement of my own apartment feel

myself more at home than in the vacuum of an hotel.”

The attention of our perambulators, in passing through the Square, was

attracted by a fine boy, apparently about eight years of age, dressed in

mourning, who, at the door of Brunet's Hotel, was endeavouring with

all his little strength and influence to oppose the egress of a large

Newfoundland dog, that, indignant of restraint, seemed desirous in a

strange land of introducing himself to ~4~~ canine good fellowship. The

boy, whose large dark eyes were full of animation, and his countenance,

though bronzed, interestingly expressive, remonstrated with the dog in

the French language. “The animal does not understand you,” exclaimed

Tallyho, in the vernacular idiom of the youth, “Speak to him in

English.” “He must be a clever dog,” answered the boy, “to know English

so soon, for neither him nor I have been in England above a week, and

for the first time in our lives.”--“And how is it,” asked Tallyho,

“that you speak the English language so fluently?” “O,” said the little

fellow, “my mother taught it me; she is an English woman, and for that

reason I love the English, and am much fonder of talking their language

than my own.” There was something extremely captivating in the boy. The

dog now struggling for freedom was nearly effecting his release,

when the two friends interposed their assistance, and secured the

pre-meditating fugitive at the moment when, to inquire the cause of the

bustle, the father of the child made his appearance in the person

of Field Marshal Count Bertrand. The Count, possessing all the

characteristics of a gentleman, acknowledged politely the kind attention

of the strangers to his son, while, on the other hand, they returned

his obeisance with the due respect excited by his uniform friendship and

undeviating attachment to greatness in adversity. The discerning eye

of Field Marshal Bertrand justly appreciated the superior rank of the

strangers, to whom he observed, that during the short period he had then

been in England, he had experienced much courtesy, of which he should

always retain a grateful recollection. This accidental interview was

creative of reciprocal satisfaction, and the parties separated, not

without an invitation on the part of the boy, that his newly found

acquaintances would again visit the “friends of the Emperor.”{1}~5~~

1 LINES SUPPOSED TO HAVE BEEN WRITTEN BY

THE EX-EMPEROR NAPOLEON IN HIS LAST ILLNESS.

Too slowly the tide of existence recedes

For him in captivity destined to languish,

The Exile, abandon'd of fortune, who needs

The friendship of Death to obliviate his anguish.

Yet, even his last moments unmet by a sigh,

Napoleon the Great uncomplaining shall die!

Though doom'd on thy rock, St. Helena, to close

My life, that once presag'd ineffable glory,

Unvisited here though my ashes repose,

No tablet to tell the lone Exile's sad story,--

Napoleon Buonaparte--still shall the name

Exist on the records immortal of Fame!

Posterity, tracing the annals of France,

The merits will own of her potent defender;

Her greatness pre-eminent skill'd to advance,

Creating, sustaining, her zenith of splendour;

Who patroniz'd arts, and averted alarms,

Till crush'd by the union of nations in arms!

I yield to my fate! nor should memory bring

One moment of fruitless and painful reflection

Of what I was lately--an Emperor and King,

Unless for the bitter, yet fond recollection

Of those, who my heart's best endearments have won,

Remote from my death-bed--my Consort and SON!

Denied in their arms even to breathe my last sigh,

No relatives' solace my exit attending;

With strangers sojourning, 'midst strangers I die,

No tear of regret with the last duties blending.

To him, the lorn Exile, no obsequies paid,

Whose fiat a Universe lately obey'd!

Make there then my tomb, where the willow trees wave,

And, far in the Island, the streamlet meanders;

If ever, by stealth, to my green grassy grave

Some kind musing spirit of sympathy wanders--

“Here rests,” he will say, “from Adversity's pains,

Napoleon Buonaparte's mortal remains!”

We have no disposition to enter into the character of the

deceased Ex-Emperor; history will not fail to do justice

alike to the merits and the crimes of one, who is inevitably

destined to fill so portentous a page on its records. At the

present time, to speak of the good of which he may have been

either the intentional or the involuntary instrument,

without some bias of party feeling would be impossible.

“Hard is his fate, on whom the public gaze

Is fix'd for ever, to condemn or praise;

Repose denies her requiem to his name,

And folly loves the martyrdom of fame.”

At all events, he is now no more; and “An English spirit

wars not with the dead.”

“The Count,” said Dashall to his Cousin, as they pursued their walk,

“remains in England until he obtain ~6~~ permission from the King of

France to return to his native country: that such leave will be given,

there is little doubt; the meritorious fidelity which the Count has

uniformly exemplified to his late unfortunate and exiled Master,

has obtained for him universal esteem, and the King of France is too

generous to withhold, amidst the general feeling, his approbation.”

Passing through Long Acre in their progress towards the British Museum,

to which national establishment they had cards of admission, the two

friends were intercepted in their way by a concourse at a coach-maker's

shop, fronting which stood a chariot carefully matted round the

body, firmly sewed together, and the wheels enveloped in hay-bands,

preparatory to its being sent into the country. Scarcely had these

precautionary measures of safety been completed, when a shrill cry,

as if by a child inside the vehicle, was heard, loud and continuative,

which, after the lapse of some minutes, broke out into the urgent and

reiterated exclamation of--“Let me out!--I shall be suffocated!--pray

let me out!”

The workmen, who had packed up the carriage, stared at each other in

mute and appalling astonishment; they felt conscious that no child was

within the vehicle; and when at last they recovered from the stupor of

amazement, they resisted the importunity of the multitude to strip the

chariot, and manfully swore, that if any one was inside, it must be

the Devil himself, or one of his imps, and no human or visible being

whatsoever.

Some, of the multitude were inclined to a similar opinion. The

crowd increased, and the most intense interest was depicted in every

countenance, when the cry of “Let me out!--I shall die!--For heaven's

sake let me out!” was audibly and vehemently again and again repeated.

The impatient multitude now began to cut away the matting; when the

workmen, apprehensive that the carriage might sustain some damage from

the impetuosity of their proceedings, took upon themselves the act of

dismantling the mysterious machine; during which operation, the cry of

“Let me out!” became more and more clamorously importunate. At last

the vehicle was laid bare, and its door thrown open; when, to the utter

amazement of the crowd, no child was there--no trace was to be seen of

aught, human or super-human! The ~7~~ assemblage gazed on the vacant

space from whence the sounds had emanated, in confusion and dismay.

During this momentary suspense, in which the country 'Squire

participated, a voice from some invisible agent, as if descending the

steps of the carriage, exclaimed--“Thank you, my good friends, I am very

much obliged to you--I shall now go home, and where my home is you will

all know by-and-by!”

With the exception of Dashall and Tallyho, the minds of the spectators,

previously impressed with the legends of superstition and diablerie,

gave way under the dread of the actual presence of his satanic majesty;

and the congregated auditors of his ominous denunciation instantaneously

dispersed themselves from the scene of witchery, and, re-assembling in

groupes on distant parts of the street, cogitated and surmised _on the

Devil's visit to the Coachmakers of Long Acre!_

Tallyho now turned an inquisitive eye on his Cousin, who answered the

silent and anxious enquiry with an immoderate fit of laughter, declaring

that this was the best and most ingenious hoax of any he had ever

witnessed, and that he would not have missed, on any consideration

whatsoever, the pleasure of enjoying it. “The Devil in Long Acre!--I

shall never forget it,” exclaimed the animated Cousin of the staring and

discomfited 'Squire.

“Explain, explain,” reiterated the 'Squire, impatiently.

“You shall have it in one word,” answered Dashall--“Ventriloquism!”{1}

1 This hoax was actually practised by a Ventriloquist in the

manner described. It certainly is of a less offensive nature

than that of many others which have been successfully

brought for-ward in the Metropolis, the offspring of folly

and idleness.--“A fellow,” some years ago, certainly not “of

infinite humour,” considering an elderly maiden lady of

Berner Street a “fit and proper subject” on whom to

exercise his wit, was at the trouble of writing a vast

number of letters to tradesmen and others, magistrates and

professional men, ordering from the former various goods,

and requiring the advice, in a case of emergency, of the

latter, appointing the same hour, to all, of attendance; so

that, in fact, at the time mentioned, the street, to the

annoy-ance and astonishment of its inhabitants, was crowded

with a motley group of visitants, equestrian and pedestrian,

all eagerly pressing forward to their destination, the old

lady's place of residence. In the heterogeneous assemblage

there were seen Tradesmen of all denominations, accompanied

by their Porters, bearing various articles of household

furniture; Counsellors anticipating fees; Lawyers engaged

to execute the last will and testament of the heroine of the

drama, and, not the least conspicuous, an Undertaker

preceded by his man with a coffin; and to crown the whole,

“though last not least in our esteem,” the then Lord Mayor of

London, who, at the eager desire of the old Lady, had, with

a commendable feeling of humanity, left his civic dominions,

in order to administer, in a case of danger and difficulty,

his consolation and assistance. When, behold! the clue was

unravelled, the whole turn'd out an hoax, and the Author

still remains in nubibus!!!

~8~~ “And who could have been the artist?” enquired Tallyho.

“Nay,” answered his friend, “that is impossible to say; some one in the

crowd, but the secret must remain with himself; neither do I think it

would have been altogether prudent his revealing it to his alarmed and

credulous auditory.”

“A Ventriloquist,” observed the 'Squire, “is so little known in the

country, that I had lost all reminiscence of his surprising powers;

however, I shall in future, from the occurrence of to-day, resist

the obtrusion of superstition, and in all cases of 'doubtful dilemma'

remember the Devil in Long Acre!”{l}

“Well resolved,” answered Dashall; and in a few minutes they

gained Great Russel Street, Bloomsbury, without further incident or

interruption.

1 The child in the hat.--Not long since, a Waggoner coming

to town with a load of hay, was overtaken by a stranger, who

entered into familiar conversation with him. They had not

pro-ceeded far, when, to the great terror of Giles Jolt, a

plaintive cry, apparently that of a child, issued from the

waggon. “Didst hear that, mon?” exclaimed Giles. The cry was

renewed--“Luord! Luord! an there be na a babe aneath the

hay, I'se be hanged; lend us a hand, mon, to get un out, for

God's sake!” The stranger very promptly assisted in

unloading the waggon, but no child was found. The hay now

lay in a heap on the road, from whence the cry was once more

long and loudly reiterated! In eager research, Giles next

proceeded to scatter the hay over the road, the cry still

continuing; but when, at last, he ascertained that the

assumed infantine plaint was all a delusion, his hair stood

erect with horror, and, running rapidly from his companion,

announced that he had been associated on the road by the

Devil, for that none else could play him such a trick! It

was not without great difficulty that the people to whom he

told this strange story prevailed on him to return, at last,

to his waggon and horses; he did so with manifest

reluctance. To his indescribable relief, his infernal

companion hail vanished in the person of the Ventriloquist,

and Jolt still believes in the supernatural visitation!

~9~~ Amongst the literary and scientific institutions of the Metropolis,

the British Museum, situated in Great Russel Street, Bloomsbury, stands

pre-eminent.

Entering the spacious court, our two friends found a party in waiting

for the Conductor. Of the individuals composing this party, the

reconnoitering eye of Dashall observed a trio, from whence he

anticipated considerable amusement. It was a family triumvirate, formed

of an old Bachelor, whose cent per cent ideas predominated over every

other, wheresoever situated or howsoever employed; his maiden Sister,

prim, starch and antiquated; and their hopeful Nephew, a

complete coxcomb, that is, in full possession of the requisite

concomitants--ignorance and impudence, and arrayed in the first style of

the most exquisite dandyism. This delectable triumviri had emerged from

their chaotic recess in Bearbinder-lane; the Exquisite, to exhibit his

sweet person along with the other curiosities of the Museum; his maiden

Aunt, to see, as she expressed it, the “_He-gipsyian munhuments,

kivered with kerry-glee-fix_;” and her Brother, to ascertain whether,

independent of outlandish baubles, gimcracks and gewgaws, there was any

thing of substantiality with which to enhance the per contra side in the

Account Current between the British Museum and the Public!

Attaching themselves to this respectable trio, Dashall and Tallyho

followed, with the other visitants, the Guide, whose duty it that

day was to point out the various curiosities of this great national

institution.

The British Museum was established by act of parliament, in 1753, in

pursuance of the will of Sir Hans Sloane, who left his museum to

the nation, on condition that Parliament should pay 20,000L. to his

Executors, and purchase a house sufficiently commodious for it. The

parliament acted with great liberality on the occasion; several other

valuable collections were united to that of Sir Hans Sloane, and the

whole establishment was completed for the sum of 85,000L. raised by

lottery. At the institution of this grand treasury of learning, it

was proposed that a competent part of 1800L. the annual sum granted by

parliament for the support of the house, should be appropriated for

the purchase of new books; but the salaries necessary for the officers,

together with the contingent expenses, have always exceeded the

allowance; so that the Trustees have been repeatedly ~10~~ obliged to

make application to defray the necessary charges.

Mr. Timothy Surety, the before mentioned Bearbinder-lane resident,

of cent per cent rumination; his accomplished sister, Tabitha; his

exquisite nephew, Jasper; and the redoubtable heroes of our eventful

history, were now associated in one party, and the remaining visitants

were sociably amalgamated in another; and each having its separate

Conductor, both proceeded to the inspection of the first and most

valuable collection in the universe.

[Illustration: page10 British Museum]

On entering the gate, the first objects which attracted attention

were two large sheds, defending from the inclemency of the seasons a

collection of Egyptian monuments, the whole of which were taken from

the French at Alexandria, in the last war. The most curious of these,

perhaps, is the large Sarcophagus beneath the shed to the left, which

has been considered as the exterior coffin of Alexander the Great, used

at his final interment. It is formed of variegated marble, and, as Mrs.

Tabitha Surety observed, was “_kivered with Kerry-glee-fix_.”

“Nephew Jasper,” said his Uncle, “you are better acquainted with the

nomenclature, I think you call it, of them there _thing-um-bobs_ than I

am--what is the name of this here?”

“My dear Sir,” rejoined the Exquisite, “this here is called a _Sark o'

Fegus_, implying the domicile, or rather, the winding-sheet of the

dead, as the sark or chemise wound itself round the fair forms of the

daughters of O'Fegus, a highland Chieftain, from whom descended Philip

of Macedon, father of Alexander the Great; and thence originated the

name subsequently given by the highland laird's successors, to the

dormitory of the dead, the Sark o' Fegus, or in the corruption of modern

orthography, Sarcophagus.”

Timothy Surety cast an approving glance towards his Nephew, and

whispering Dashall, “My Nephew, Sir, apparently a puppy, Sir, but well

informed, nevertheless--what think you of his definition of that hard

word? Is he not, I mean my Nephew Jaz, a most extraordinary young man?”

“Superlatively so,” answered Dashall, “and I think you are happy in

bearing affinity to a young man of such transcendent acquirements.”

~11~~“D--n his acquirements!” exclaimed Timothy; “would you think it,

they are of no use in the way of trade, and though I have given him many

an opportunity of doing well, he knows no more of keeping a set of books

by double-entry, than Timothy Surety does of keeping a pack of hounds,

who was never twenty miles beyond the hearing of Bow bells in all his

lifetime!”

This important communication, having been made apart from the

recognition of the Aunt and Nephew, passed on their approach,

unanswered; and Dashall and his friend remained in doubt whether or not

the Nephew, in his late definition of the word Sarcophagus, was in

jest or earnest: Tallyho inclined to think that he was hoaxing the old

gentleman; on the other hand, his Cousin bethought himself, that the

apparent ingenuity of Jaz's definition was attributable entirely to his

ignorance.

Here also were two statues of Roman workmanship, supposed to be those

of Marcus Aurelius and Severus, ancient, but evidently of provincial

sculpture.

Mrs. Tabitha, shading her eyes with her fan, and casting a glance askew

at the two naked figures, which exhibited the perfection of symmetry,

enquired of her Nephew who they were meant to represent.

His answer was equally eccentric with that accorded to his Uncle on the

subject of the Sarcophagus.

“My dear Madam!” said Jaz, “these two figures are consanguineous to

those of Gog and Magog in Guildhall, being the lineal descendants of

these mighty associates of the Livery of London!”

“But, Jaz” rejoined the antique dame, “I always understood that

Messieurs Gog and Magog derived their origin from quite a different

family.”

“Aunt of mine,” responded Jaz, “the lofty rubicunded Civic Baronet

shall not be 'shorn of his beams;' he claims the same honour with

his brainless brothers before us-he is a scion of the same tree; Sir

W*ll**m, the twin brothers of Guildhall, and these two sedate Gentlemen

of stone, all boast the honour of the same extraction!”

Behind them, on the right, was a ram's head of very curious workmanship,

from Thebes.

“Perhaps, Sir,” said Mrs. Tabitha, graciously addressing herself to

'Squire Tallyho, “you can inform us what may be the import of this

singular exhibition?”

“On my honour, Madam,” answered the 'Squire, “I cannot satisfactorily

resolve the enquiry; I am a country ~12~~ gentleman, and though

conversant with rains and rams' horns in my own neighbourhood, have no

knowledge of them with reference to the connexion of the latter with the

Citizens of London or Westminster!”

Jaz again assumed the office of expositor.--“My very reverend Aunt,”

said Jaz, “I must prolegomenize the required explanation with a simple

anecdote:--

“When Charles the Second returned from one of his northern tours,

accompanied by the Earl of Rochester, he passed through Shoreditch. On

each side the road was a huge pile of rams' horns, for what purpose

tradition saith not. 'What is the meaning of all this?' asked the

King, pointing towards the symbolics. 'I know not,' rejoined Rochester,

'unless it implies that the Citizens of London have laid their heads

together, to welcome your Majesty's return!' In commemoration of this

witticism, the ram's head is to the Citizens of London a prominent

feature of exhibition in the British Museum.”

This interpretation raised a laugh at the expense of Timothy Surety,

who, nevertheless, bore it with great good humour, being a bachelor, and

consequently not within the scope of that ridicule on the basis of which

was founded the present sarcastic fabric.

It was now obvious to Dash all and his friend, that this young man,

Jasper Surety, was not altogether the ignoramus at first presumed. They

had already been entertained by his remarks, and his annotations were

of a description to warrant the expectancy of further amusement in the

progress of their inspection.

From the hall the visitors were led through an iron gateway to the

great staircase, opposite the bottom of which is preserved a model in

mahogany, exhibiting the method used by Mr. Milne in constructing the

works of Blackfriars' Bridge; and beneath it are some curious fragments

from the Giant's Causeway in Ireland.

These fragments, however highly estimated by the naturalist and the

antiquary, were held in derision by the worldly-minded Tim. Surety,

who exclaimed against the folly of expending money in the purchase of

articles of no intrinsic value, calculated only to gratify the curiosity

of those inquisitive idlers who affect their admiration of every

uninteresting production of Nature, and neglect the pursuit of the main

chance, so necessary in realizing the comforts of life.

~13~~ These sordid ideas were opposed by Dashall and the 'Squire, to

whom they seemed particularly directed. Mrs. Tabitha smiled a gracious

acquiescence in the sentiments of the two strangers, and Jasper

expressed his regret that Nuncle was not gifted and fated as Midas of

ancient times, who transformed every thing that he touched into gold!

The Egyptian and Etruscan antiquities next attracted the attention of

the visitors. Over a doorway in this room is a fine portrait of Sir

William Hamilton, painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds. Dashall and Tallyho

remarked with enthusiasm on these beautiful relics of the sculpture

of former ages, several of which were mutilated and disfigured by the

dilapidations of time and accident. Of the company present, there stood

on the left a diminutive elderly gentleman in the act of contemplating

the fragment of a statue in a posterior position, and which certainly

exhibited somewhat of a ludicrous appearance; on the right, the

exquisite Jasper pointed out, with the self-sufficiency of an amateur,

the masculine symmetry of a Colossian statue to his Aunt of antiquated

virginity, whose maiden purity recoiling from the view of nudation,

seemed to say, “Jaz, wrap an apron round him!” while in the foreground

stood the rotunditive form of Timothy Surety, who declared, after a

cursory and contemptuous glance at the venerable representatives of

mythology, “That with the exception of the portrait of Sir William

Hamilton, there was not in the room an object worth looking at; and as

for them there ancient statutes,” (such was his vernacular idiom and

Bearbinder barbarism) “I would not give twopence for the whole of this

here collection, if it was never for nothing else than to set them up as

scare-crows in the garden of my country house at Edmonton!”

Jasper whispered his aunt, that nuncks was a vile bore; and the

sacrilegious declaration gave great offence to the diminutive gentleman

aforesaid, who hesitated not in pronouncing Timothy Surety destitute of

taste and vertu; to which accusation Timothy, rearing his squat form

to its utmost altitude, indignantly replied, “that there was not an

alderman in the City of London of better taste than himself in the

qualities of callipash and callipee, and that if the little gemmen

presumed again to asperse his vartue, he would bring an action against

him tor slander and defamation of character.” The minikin man gave

Timothy a glance of ineffable disdain, and left the room. Mrs. ~14~~

Tabitha, in the full consciousness of her superior acquirements, now

directed a lecture of edification to her brother, who, however, manfully

resisted her interference, and swore, that “where his taste and

_vartue_ were called in question he would not submit to any _she_ in the

universe.”

Mrs. Tabitha, finding that on the present occasion her usual success

would not predominate, suspended, like a skilful manoeuvreist,

unavailable attack, and, turning to her nephew, required to know what

personage the tall figure before them was meant to represent. Jasper

felt not qualified correctly to answer this enquiry, yet unwilling to

acknowledge his ignorance, unhesitatingly replied, “One of the ancient

race of architects who built the Giant's Causeway in the north of

Ireland.” This sapient remark excited a smile from the two friends,

who shortly afterwards took an opportunity of withdrawing from further

intercourse with the Bearbinder triumviri, and enjoyed with a more

congenial party the remaining gratification which this splendid national

institution is so well calculated to inspire.

Extending their observations to the various interesting objects of this

magnificent establishment, the two prominent heroes of our eventful

history derived a pleasure only known to minds of superior intelligence,

to whom the wonders of art and nature impart the acmé of intellectual

enjoyment.

Having been conducted through all the different apartments, the

two friends, preparing to depart, the 'Squire tendered a pecuniary

compliment to the Guide, in return for his politeness, but which, to the

surprise of the donor, was refused; the regulations of the institution

strictly prohibiting the acceptance by any of its servants of fee or

reward from a visitor, under the penalty of dismissal.{1}

1 Although the limits of this work admit not a minute detail

of the rarities of the British Museum, yet a succinct

enumeration of a few particulars may not prove unacceptable

to our Readers.

In the first room, which we have already noticed, besides

the Egyptian and Etruscan antiquities, is a stand filled

with reliques of ancient Egypt, amongst which are numerous

small representatives of mummies that were used as patterns

for those who chose and could afford to be embalmed at their

decease.

The second apartment is principally devoted to works of art,

be-ginning with Mexican curiosities. The corners opposite

the light are occupied by two Egyptian mummies, richly

painted, which were both brought from the catacombs of

Sakkara, near Grand Cairo.

The third room exhibits a rich collection of curiosities

from the South Pacific Ocean, brought by Capt. Cook. In the

left corner is the mourning dress of an Otaheitean lady, in

which taste and barbarity are curiously blended. Opposite

are the rich cloaks and helmets of feathers from the

Sandwich Islands.

The visitor next enters the manuscript department, the first

room of which is small, and appropriated chiefly to the

collections of Sir Hans Sloane. The next room is completely

filled with Sir Robert Harley's manuscripts, afterwards Earl

of Oxford, one of the most curious of which is a volume of

royal letters, from 1437 to the time of Charles I.. The next

and last room of the manuscript department is appropriated

to the ancient royal library of manuscripts, and Sir Robert

Cotton's, with a few-later donations. On the table, in the

middle of the room, is the famous Magna Charta of King John;

it is written on a large roll of parchment, and was much

damaged in the year 1738, when the Cotton library took fire

at Westminster, but a part of the broad seal is yet annexed.

We next reach the great saloon, which is finely ornamented

with fresco paintings by Baptiste. Here are a variety of

Roman remains, such as dice, tickets for the Roman theatres,

mirrors, seals for the wine casks, lamps, &c. and a

beautiful bronze head of Homer, which was found near

Constantinople.

The mineral room is the next object of attention. Here are

fossils of a thousand kinds, and precious stones, of various

colours and splendours, composing a collection of

astonishing beauty and magnificence.

Next follows the bird room; and the last apartment contains

animals in spirits, in endless variety. And here the usual

exhibition of the house closes.

~15~~ Issuing from the portals of the Museum, “Apropos,” said Dashall,

“we are in the vicinity of Russell-square, the residence of my

stock-broker; I have business of a few moments continuance to transact

with him--let us proceed to his residence.”

A lackey, whose habiliment, neat but not gaudy, indicated the

unostentatious disposition of his master,, answered the summons of the

knocker: “Mr. C. was gone to his office at the Royal Exchange.”

“The gentleman who occupies this mansion,” observed Dashall to his

friend, as they retired from the door, “illustrates by his success in

life, the truth of the maxim so frequently impressed on the mind of the

school-boy, that perseverance conquers all difficulties. Mr. C, unaided

by any other recommendation than that of his own unassuming modest

merit, entered the very ~16~~ respectable office of which he is now

the distinguished principal, in the situation of a young man who has no

other prospect of advancement than such as may accrue from rectitude of

conduct, and the consequent approbation and patronage of his employer.

By a long exemplary series of diligence and fidelity, he acquired the

confidence of, and ultimately became a partner in the firm. His strictly

conscientious integrity and uniform gentlemanly urbanity have thus

gained him a preference in his profession, and an ample competency is

now the well-merited meed of his industry.”

“Combining with its enjoyment,” responded the 'Squire, “the exercise of

benevolent propensities.”

“Exactly so much so, that his name appears as an annual subscriber to

nearly all the philanthropic institutions of the metropolis, and his

private charities besides are numerous and reiterated.”

“This, then, is one of the few instances (said the 'Squire) of Real Life

in London, where private fortune is so liberally applied in relief of

suffering humanity--it is worthy of indelible record.”

Circumambulating the square, the two observers paused opposite the fine

statue of the late Francis Duke of Bedford.

The graceful proportion, imposing elevation, and commanding attitude of

the figure, together with the happy combination of skill and judgment

by the artist, in the display on the pedestal of various agricultural

implements, indicating the favourite and useful pursuits of this

estimable nobleman, give to the whole an interesting appearance, and

strongly excite those feelings of regret which attend the recollection

of departed worth and genius. Proceeding down the spacious new street

directly facing the statue, our perambulators were presently in

Bedford-square, in which is the effigy of the late eminent statesman

Charles James Fox: the figure is in à sitting posture, unfavourable

to our reminiscences of the first orator of any age or country, and

is arrayed in the Roman toga: the face is a striking likeness, but the

effect on the whole is not remarkable. The two statues face each other,

as if still in friendly recognition; but the sombre reflections of

Dashall and his friend were broke in upon by a countryman with, “Beant

that Measter Fox, zur?” “His effigy, my ~17~~friend.” “Aye, aye, but

what the dickens ha've they wrapt a blanket round un vor?”

Proceeding along Charlotte Street, Bloomsbury, the associates in

search of Real Life were accosted by a decent looking countryman in a

smock-frock, who, approaching them in true clod-hopping style, with a

strong provincial accent, detailed an unaffectedly simple, yet deep tale

of distress:

“----Oppression fore'd from his cot,

His cattle died, and blighted was his corn!”

The story which he told was most pathetic, the tears the while coursing

each other down his cheeks; and Dashall and his friend were about to

administer liberally to his relief, the former observing, “There can be

no deception here,” when the applicant was suddenly pounced upon by an

officer, as one of the greatest impostors in the Metropolis, who, with

the eyes of Argus, could transform themselves into a greater variety of

shapes than Proteus, and that he had been only fifty times, if not more,

confined in different houses of correction as an incorrigible rogue

and vagabond, from one of which he had recently contrived to effect his

escape. The officer now bore off his prize in triumph, while Dashall,

hitherto “the most observant of all observers,” sustained the laugh

of his Cousin at the knowing one deceived, with great good humour, and

Dashall, adverting to his opinion so confidently expressed, “There can

be no deception here,” declared that in London it was impossible to

guard in every instance against fraud, where it is frequently practised

with so little appearance of imposition.

The two friends now bent their course towards Covent Garden, which,

reaching without additional incident, they wiled away an hour at

Robins's much to their satisfaction. That gentleman, in his professional

capacity, generally attracts in an eminent degree the attention of his

visitors by his professional politeness, so that he seldom fails to

put off an article to advantage; and yet he rarely resorts to the puff

direct, and never indulges in the puff figurative, so much practised by

his renowned predecessor, the late knight of the hammer, Christie, the

elder, who by the superabundancy of his rhetorical ~18~~flurishes, was

accustomed from his elevated rostrum to edify and amuse his admiring

auditory.{1}

Of the immense revenues accruing to his Grace the Duke of Bedford,

not the least important is that derived from Covent Garden market. As

proprietor of the ground, from every possessor of a shed or stall, and

from all who take their station as venders in the market, a rent is

payable to his Grace, and collected weekly; considering, therefore,

the vast number of occupants, the aggregate rental must be of the first

magnitude. His Grace is a humane landlord, and his numerous tenantry

of Covent Garden are always ready to join in general eulogium on his

private worth, as is the nation at large on the patriotism of his public

character.

Dashall conducted his friend through every part of the Market, amidst a

redundancy of fruit, flowers, roots and vegetables, native and exotic,

in variety and profusion, exciting the merited admiration of the

Squire, who observed, and perhaps justly, that this celebrated emporium

unquestionably is not excelled by any other of a similar description in

the universe.

1 The late Mr. Christie having at one time a small tract of

land under the hammer, expatiated at great length on its

highly improved state, the exuberant beauties with which

Nature had adorned this terrestrial Paradise, and more

particularly specified a delightful hanging wood.

A gentleman, unacquainted with Mr. Christie's happy talent

at exaggerated description, became the highest bidder, paid

his deposit, and posted down into Essex to examine his new

purchase, when, to his great surprise and disappointment, he

found no part of the description realized, the promised

Paradise having faded into an airy vision, “and left not a

wreck behind!” The irritated purchaser immediately returned

to town, and warmly expostulated with the auctioneer on the

injury he had sustained by unfounded representation; “and as

to a hanging wood, Sir, there is not the shadow of a tree on

the spot!” “I beg your pardon, Sir,” said the pertinacious

eulogist, “you must certainly have overlooked the gibbet on

the common, and if that is not a hanging wood, I know not

what it is!”

Another of Mr. Christie's flights of fancy may not unaptly

be termed the puff poetical. At an auction of pictures,

dwelling in his usual strain of eulogium on the unparalleled

excellence of a full-length portrait, without his producing

the desired effect, “Gentlemen,” said he, “1 cannot, in

justice to this sublime art, permit this most invaluable

painting to pass from under the hammer, without again

soliciting the honour of your attention to its manifold

beauties. Gentlemen, it only wants the touch of Prometheus

to start from the canvass and fall abidding!”

~19~~ Proceeding into Leicester Square, the very extraordinary

production of female genius, Miss Linwood's Gallery of Needlework

promised a gratification to the Squire exceeding in novelty any thing

which he had hitherto witnessed in the Metropolis. The two

friends accordingly entered, and the anticipations of Tallyho were

superabundantly realized.

This exhibition consists of seventy-five exquisite copies in needlework,

of the finest pictures of the English and foreign schools, possessing

all the correct drawing, just colouring, light and shade of the original

pictures from whence they are taken, and to which in point of effect

they are in no degree inferior.

From the door in Leicester Square the visitants entered the principal

room, a fine gallery of excellent proportions, hung with scarlet

broad-cloth, gold bullion tassels, and Greek borders. The appearance

thus given to the room is pleasing, and indicated to the Squire a still

more superior attraction. His Cousin Dashall had frequently inspected

this celebrated exhibition, but' to Tallyho it was entirely new.

On one side of this room the pictures are hung, and have a guard in

front to keep the company at the requisite distance, and for preserving

them.

Turning to the left, a long and obscure passage prepares the mind,

and leads to the cell of a prison, on looking into which is seen the

beautiful Lady Jane Gray, visited by the Abbot and keeper of the Tower

the night before her execution.

This scene particularly elicited the Squire's admiration; the deception

of the whole, he observed, was most beautiful, and not exceeded by

any work from the pencil of the painter, that he had ever witnessed.

A little farther on is a cottage, the casement of which opens, and the

hatch at the door is closed; and, on looking in at either, our visitants

perceived a fine and exquisitely finished copy of Gainsborough's Cottage

Children standing by the fire, with chimney-piece and cottage furniture

compleat. Near to this is Gainsborough's Woodman, exhibited in the same

scenic manner.

Having enjoyed an intellectual treat, which perhaps in originality as

an exhibition of needlework is no where else to be met with, our

perambulators retired, and reached home without the occurrence of any

other remarkable incident.~20~~

Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II. Or, The Rambles and Adventures of Bob Tallyho, Esq., and His Cousin, the Hon. Tom Dashall, Through the Metropolis; Exhibiting a Living Picture of Fashionable Characters, Manners, and Amusements in High and Low Life (1821) · 第 1 / 34 章