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MORNINGS AT BOW STREET.
[Illustration:
"Sweet Birds that love the noise of Folly,
Most musical, most melancholy"]
MORNINGS AT BOW STREET:
A Selection
OF THE MOST HUMOROUS AND ENTERTAINING REPORTS WHICH
HAVE APPEARED IN THE "MORNING HERALD."
BY J. WIGHT,
BOW-STREET REPORTER TO THE "MORNING HERALD."
WITH TWENTY-ONE ILLUSTRATIONS
BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.
"They did gather humours of men dayly wherever they came."
AUBREY MS.
LONDON:
GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS,
THE BROADWAY, LUDGATE.
NEW YORK: 416 BROOME STREET.
1875.
LONDON:
BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO., PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.
ADVERTISEMENT TO THE ORIGINAL EDITION.
This volume consists of certain of those Bow Street Reports which have
appeared from time to time, during the last three years, in the columns of
the _Morning Herald_. The very favourable notice which they then met with
from the public, has induced the author to select some of the most
descriptive and amusing of them, and to present them here again, with some
necessary enlargements and corrections, and in a somewhat more finished
state than the rapid demands of a daily paper allowed.
In their present form, therefore, they assume the more permanent character
which they have been thought to deserve; the convenience of the reader is
consulted, and his imagination very effectively aided, by the Designs of
Mr. George Cruikshank, whose rare comic pencil has been most successfully
employed in illustrating them.
The chief quality of these little narratives is certainly "_pour faire
rire_" in common with all other books of facetiae; but in some important
respects they differ from books of that class, which for the most part
consist of fancied and fictitious scenes and characters; and of humour
concocted in the brain of the writer: for in the work now presented, the
dramatis personae are actual existences, and the scenes real occurrences;
affording specimens of our national humour which is perhaps to be found
genuine only among the uncultivated classes of society. In copying these,
the author's chief aim has been to preserve the character and spirit of
his originals.
The reader is placed, without personal sacrifice, amidst the various and
somewhat repulsive groups of a police office, and made acquainted with the
states and conditions of human nature, with which, from the sympathy due
to the more unfortunate part of the species, he should not be entirely
ignorant; it is by such means alone that the prosperous and orderly
portion of society can know what passes among the destitute and disorderly
portion of it; that they can rightly appreciate the advantages they
enjoy, and the value and importance of these particular institutions of
their country.
It has been objected to this publication, that it perpetuates the ridicule
and disgrace to which individuals have, in an unlucky moment, exposed
themselves: to obviate this, great care has been taken that names, which
are here unimportant, should be either totally omitted, or so altered as
to prevent the possibility of discovery; personal satire being in no
degree the object of this work;--the persons concerned have then only to
keep their own counsel, to be perfectly unexposed to having their wounds
opened afresh by means of this inoffensive, and, it is hoped, diverting
volume.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
A COOL CONTRIVANCE 1
A COSTERMONGER'S QUERY 3
A TEA PARTY 3
PAT LANGHAM'S LOGIC 7
MANGLING AND MATRIMONY 9
BATTLE IN THE BOXES 13
A SPOILED QUADRILLE 17
OYSTER EATING 19
A WATCHMAN'S WALTZ 22
A LITTLE BIT OF A CAUTION 24
DUNNING EXTRAORDINARY 26
STREET ETIQUETTE 31
THE LOVES OF M'GILLIES AND JULIA COB 35
TIPSY JULIA 42
AN EVENING'S PLEASURE 42
A LAMPLIGHTER'S FUNERAL 47
LATE HOURS AND OYSTERS 49
SUPPING OUT 52
A GREAT MAN IN DISTRESS 57
MRS. WILLIAMS'S PETTICOAT 61
"INCHING IT BACKERT" 63
MR. HUMPHREY BRUMMEL AND TERENCE O'CONNOR 65
CUPID IN CHAMBERS 67
FLORENCE O'SHAUGHNESSY 69
CORINTHIANISM 73
A DEBT OF HONOUR 79
CHEAP DINING 82
THE GENTLEMAN AND HIS BOOTS 87
BEAUTY AND THE BROOMSTICK 92
THE COCKNEY AND THE CAPTAIN 96
JEMMY SULLIVAN 101
ONE OF THE FANCY 105
A SUNDAY'S RIDE 108
DISAPPOINTED LOVE 112
TOM CRIB AND THE COPPERSMITHS 115
SOLOMON AND DESDEMONA 118
A COACHMAN'S CONSCIENCE 121
DANCING DONAGHU 123
A MISS-ADVENTURE 126
THE WEDDING RING 129
FLAGELLATION _versus_ PHYSIC 133
TOM SAYERS 137
THE DUST WHOPPER AND THE WATERMAN 141
A GROWN GENTLEMAN 144
DRURY LANE MISSES 147
A SMALL TASTE OF JIMAKEY 149
A WHITE SERGEANT, OR PETTICOAT GOVERNMENT 153
THE COOK AND THE TAILOR 158
THE TWO AUTHORS 164
A BOLD STROKE FOR A SUPPER 167
CUPBOARD LOVE 171
LOVE IN CHANCERY 173
KITTY KAVANAGH 181
FRENCH AND ENGLISH MIXTURE 184
UNREQUITED LOVE 187
A DUN AT SUPPER TIME 191
THE CANTAB AND THE TURKS 195
JOHN BROWN 198
JOHN SAUNDERS ON HORSEBACK: A NARRATIVE 203
'PON MY HONOUR IT'S TRUE 209
BEER--NOT BODIES 212
MOLLY LOWE 216
A WEARY BENEDICT 224
THE GOLDSMITH AND THE TAILOR 227
THE RAPE OF THE WIG 230
A BRUMMYJUM OUTRIDER 232
PAT CRAWLEY'S MULE 235
THE TEMPLAR AND THE COOK 238
A HAGGLING CUSTOMER 243
STEALING EX-OFFICIO 245
A DISTRESSED FATHER 246
SORROWS OF THE SULLIVANS 253
"WHERE SHALL I SLEEP?" 258
BEEF VALOUR 261
JEMMY LENNAM AND THE JEW 266
WOLF _versus_ WELLDONE 268
MR. O'FLINN AND HIS FRIEND'S MISTRESS 273
JONAS TUNKS 277
MISS HANNAH MARIA JULIANA SHUM AND HER BEAU 282
ROEBUCK _versus_ CLANCEY 286
PIG WIT 288
AN IRISH TAILOR 294
BOX-LOBBY LOUNGERS 298
IRISH GALLANTRY 302
ILLUSTRATIONS
DESIGNED BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.
ENGRAVED BY PAGE
FRONTISPIECE _G. Cruikshank_
A COOL CONTRIVANCE _J. Thompson_ 1
VIGNETTE TO DITTO _Ditto_ 2
MR. ROBERT M'GILLIES _H. White_ 38
VIGNETTE TO DITTO _R. Branston_ 41
SUPPING OUT _Ditto_ 52
DITTO _Ditto_ 53
BUNDLING UP _W. Hughes_ 55
CHEAP DINING _R. Branston_ 84
DITTO _J. Thompson_ 85
TOM CRIB AND THE COPPERSMITH _R. Branston_ 116
VIGNETTE TO DITTO _Ditto_ 117
PETTICOAT GOVERNMENT _W. Hughes_ 155
DITTO _Ditto_ 159
A DUN AT SUPPER TIME _R. Branston_ 193
MOLLY LOWE _J. Thompson_ 220
VIGNETTE TO DITTO _Ditto_ 224
DISTRESSED FATHER _R. Branston_ 247
DITTO _J. Thompson_ 249
JONAS TUNKS _W. Hughes_ 280
PIG WIT _J. Thompson_ 292
VIGNETTE TO DITTO _W. Hughes_ 294
[Illustration: A COOL CONTRIVANCE.]
MORNINGS AT BOW STREET.
A COOL CONTRIVANCE.
One fine summer's morning, a short, dumpy, sunburnt, orange and
purple-faced old man--topped with a clean white night-cap, was brought
before the magistrate by an officer, who had just found him trudging
through the Mall in St. James's Park, with his breeches on a stick over
his shoulder, instead of in their natural and proper place. "This comical
fad of his, please your worship," said the officer, "frightened the ladies
out of their wits, and made such a hubbub among the young blackguards,
that I thought it my duty to take him into custody; but he kicked and
sprunted at such a rate, that it was as much as two or three of us could
do to get his breeches on again."
"Why do you walk without your breeches, my honest friend?" said the
magistrate, in a tone of kind expostulation.[1] "Because I was so hot that
I was determined not to be bothered with breeches any longer!" replied
the queer old man--twinkling his little deep-set French-grey eyes, and
sending forth a long-drawn sultry sigh.
The magistrate asked him something of his history; to which he replied,
that he was born at Great Marlow, in Buckinghamshire, where his father was
a small farmer. "There was a rare lot of us young ones," said he, "running
about the lanes, and paddling in the cool green ponds, like so many
goslings. For myself, I was made a shoemaker of, by a gentleman who
thought me too pretty for a plough-boy: and so I've been making shoes in
London these last forty years; but latterly I'm always so hot and dry,
that I can make no more shoes, not I, and I'll take to the fields again."
His worship was of opinion that the poor fellow's wits were wandering, and
ordered that he should be taken care of in Tothill-field's Bridewell,
until his parish could be ascertained.
[Illustration]
A COSTERMONGER'S QUERY.
A person, who called himself a "master costermonger," having, with some
difficulty, obtained access to the table, made his best bow to the
magistrate, and said, "Please your _vurship_, vaut am I to do about my
_bitch_?"
"About _what_?" said his worship.
"About my bitch, vaut I lost four months ago, your vurship. I lost her in
pup, and I knows the man vaut's fun her, and now she's pupp'd six pups,
and says he to me, says he, 'You shall either have the bitch vithout the
pups, or the pups vithout the bitch; an if so be as you don't like that,
you shan't have neither of 'em'--and so vaut am I to do, your vurship?"
"Why go along and mind your business," replied his worship--and the master
costermonger retired from court without having taken anything by his
motion.
A TEA PARTY.
Joseph Arnold, Esq., of Duck-lane, Westminster, a retired
hackney-coachman, better known by the title of "the Rough Diamond," and as
the intimate friend of Bill Gibbons, Esq. P.C. Com. Gen. was brought
before the sitting magistrate under the following awkward circumstances:--
Mr. Peter Guy, who is a tailor[2] (by _trade_), and Mrs. Peter Guy, were
invited to tea by the accomplished hostess of the Russian Hotel in
Bow-street. Mr. Joseph Arnold, Mr. Joseph Arnold's housekeeper, and
several other ladies and gentlemen, were of the party. There was toast and
prime Dorset, and muffins and crumpets, with Gunpowder and Bohea for the
ladies; and pig's-face, red-herrings, and hot coffee for the gentlemen; in
short, there was everything quite genteel and comfortable. Now it so
happened that Mr. Peter Guy wore a white-poodle[3] upper benjamin, of his
own make, on the occasion, and this unfortunate dress upset the comfort of
the whole party. Mr. Joseph Arnold first observed, that Mr. Peter Guy's
poodle-benjamin was as pretty a bit of toggery[4] as ever he _seed_. All
the company agreed to this, except one lady (Mrs. Jonathan Guy), who
remarked that it looked rather too warm-like and smothery for fireside
wear. Mr. Joseph Arnold observed it warn't a morsel too warm for those as
had any gumption[5] in 'em; and he offered to bet a shilling that he could
get it on, if so be as Mr. Peter Guy would be kind enough to peel.[6]
There was not a lady in company who did not laugh out-right at this
proposition, because Mr. Joseph Arnold is a large round man, upwards of
six feet high, and Mr. Peter Guy, as one of the ladies very justly
observed, is a little hop-o'-my-thumb chap, not much above half as big.
Mr. J. Arnold, however, swore by _goles_ (a favourite oath of his) that he
would not flinch from his bet; and at length Mr. Peter Guy took him at his
word, the stakes were deposited, and Mr. Peter Guy having slipped out of
his benjamin, Mr. Joseph Arnold squeezed himself into it, without a vast
deal of trouble; though, when it was on, the sleeves did not reach much
below his elbows. Mr. Peter Guy readily admitted that he was done,[7] and
requested his benjamin again; but Mr. Joseph Arnold refused to restore it,
observing, that it was a prime fit, and he would give it a turn among the
swells in Duck-lane. The ladies remonstrated, the gentlemen laughed, the
noise ran high; the tea tables were hurried away, and the crumpets were
upset among the ashes. But it was all of no use; Mr. Joseph Arnold swore
the toggery was too good for a _tailor_, and he would keep it for himself;
and so saying, he sallied forth and strutted up and down Bow-street for
nearly two hours, till at length the patience of Mr. Peter Guy became
exhausted, and he gave him in charge to an officer, who carried him before
the magistrate.
His worship having first ordered Mr. Joseph Arnold to be placed at the
bar, asked him what he had to say for himself?
He replied that he did not feel himself a bit disgraced by being placed in
that 'ere bar, being as how he was well known to Mr. White and Mr.
Markland, the magistrates at Queen-square, and to all the inhabitants of
Duck-lane, as an honest man, and one that was as well-to-do in the world,
as any man who was no better off than himself. And as to the benjamin
there was such a bother about, he had got it on by the free consent of the
owner, and he would keep it on long enough, unless the owner stood a drop
of summut short.[8]
"If that's the case, Sir," observed the magistrate, "I shall instantly
commit you for the robbery."
This seemed to have a considerable effect upon Mr. Joseph Arnold, for he
instantly, though slowly, began to peel: and having so done, he handed the
benjamin over the bar, sulkily observing, "This comes of keeping company
with _tailors_, your worship, and I can't say but it sarves me right.
Howsomever, he mought have had it before, if he had not been so d----d
tall and consequential about it."
Mr. Peter Guy thanked the magistrate for his kind interposition, and the
parties withdrew.
PAT LANGHAM'S LOGIC.
Mr. Patrick Langham was charged with having assaulted Mrs. Bridget
Finnagen, by _spitting_ in her face.
His worship told him he was a dirty fellow, and asked him what he could
say in excuse for such an unmanly and disgusting trick.
"Well, your honour," replied Patrick, "I should not have done it by no
_manes_, but she put her nose in the mouth of me."
"Nonsense, man! How could she put her nose in your mouth?"
"Well, your honour, she did that same, any how; an I can bring a witness
to the fore that'll testify to your honour."
The magistrate told him he did not believe him. Mrs. Bridget Finnagen said
it was a _grate_ lie invented by Patrick to bring shame upon her--the
mother-in-law to the brother of him, and _oun_ mother to four
children--barrin one that's dead.
Patrick persisted in his nose story, and being desired to show the manner
of it, he placed himself in the attitude of a scolding woman--with chin
poked out, and arms a-kimbo.
"Why, you foolish fellow," observed the magistrate, "you mean that she put
her nose in your _face_--not mouth."
"Your honour'll call it what ye plase," replied Patrick, "but me _mouth's_
in me _face_ any how; and so me _face_ and me _mouth's_ all one, your
honour, in that shape."
His worship could not but smile at this explanation of the matter, and
told Mrs. Bridget Finnagen that he thought Patrick was a harmless fellow,
who would conduct himself better in future if she would forgive him his
past offences.
Mrs. Bridget Finnagen, however, refused to be pacified; she implored his
worship "to bind him down to the law," and declared that upon one occasion
lately, he told her if it was not for the law, he would put all the teeth
in her head into her stomach; but as Patrick declared he had no ill-blood
to the _cratur_, and promised never to molest her again, the magistrate
dismissed the complaint.
MANGLING AND MATRIMONY.
Mr. Thomas Turner was brought before the magistrate on a peace warrant,
issued at the suit of his wife, Mrs. Eleanor Turner. There was a world of
arguments _pro._ and _con._; but we must content ourselves with a simple
narrative of the principal facts.
Mr. and Mrs. Turner were married in September last, at which time he was
not much more than seventy-three years old; and she was only fifty-six,
the very day they went to church; consequently their experience was not so
great as it might have been, had they been older. Nevertheless, they
managed to get over the first six weeks, as Mr. Turner said, "pretty
tightish." But after that time, his business began to fall off; and then
Mrs. Turner, who was by profession a _mangler_, insisted on his turning
the wheel of her mangle for her. Well, he did turn it; and turn it, and
turn it, again and again, from six o'clock in the morning till nine at
night; and if he did not turn it fast enough, Mrs. Turner boxed his ears;
and often, when she had boxed his ears till fire flashed from his eyes, as
it were, she would tell him, "though he was a turner by name, he was a
poor turner by nature." On the other hand, Mrs. Turner alleged that he had
"married her out of a kitchen, _what_ she had lived in eleven long years;"
that she had brought him as excellent a character as any man could desire;
that she thought she could have done as well with him as she could with a
man of twenty or twenty-five years old, but that she was sadly
disappointed: for though she found him good for nothing in the world but
to turn her mangle, he refused even to do that; or, if he did do it, he
did it clumsily, and with grumbling; and he often left off doing it to
beat her. Moreover, he had latterly threatened to sell her mangling
apparatus; and, because she begged of him not to sell it--as his doing so
would be their ruin--he "kicked her _shins_ till they were all manner of
colours."
The magistrate asked Mr. Turner what he had to say to this last part of
the business.
He said, with his worship's permission, he would tell him.--"He had often
promised Mrs. Turner, that he would make her a handsome present at
Whitsuntide, if she would only keep her fingers to herself; and as
Whitsuntide was now fast approaching, he went out one Monday evening and
_spouted_[9] his watch, to raise funds for that purpose. With the funds so
raised, he purchased a spick-and-span new straw bonnet, with ribbons all
up a-top of it, quite beautiful to see--so beautiful, indeed, that the
ribbons alone cost him a clear five shillings. And with this bonnet, so
beautiful, he went home, rejoicing in his heart to think how pleased Mrs.
Turner would be, and how happy they should live--for a _fortnight_ at the
very least. But he was mistaken. When he got home, he uncovered the
bonnet, and, placing it on his hand, he held it up before her, nothing
doubting but that she would be delighted at the sight of it; and he had no
sooner done this, than she snatched it from his hand, and threw it on the
ground, trampled its beautiful ribbons under her angry feet; and, seizing
him by the _scuff_ of his neck she bent him down towards the floor, whilst
she pummelled him about the head and shoulders, till his very ears sung
again. In this dilemma, he had nothing left for it but to kick
backwards--_donkey_-fashion as he called it; and it was by the kicks so
given in his own defence, that Mrs. Turner's legs were discoloured."
When Mr. Turner came to this part of his description, in order to show his
worship more particularly the manner of his kicking, he kicked out behind
with all his might, and in so doing he kicked an officer on the leg with
such violence, that the poor fellow was obliged to go limping to a seat,
and sit rubbing his shin for half an hour after.
Mrs. Turner strenuously denied having pummelled her husband in the way
stated, or in any other way; and eventually he was ordered to find
sureties to keep the peace towards her and all the king's subjects.
BATTLE IN THE BOXES.
Among the watch-house _detenus_ brought before the magistrates one
morning, to answer for misdoings on the preceding night, there was a
little, fat, round, well-dressed, comfortable-looking personage, named
----; but his name can be of no interest to the public, as the offence
laid to his charge amounted only to an assault and battery, caused by the
boiling over of his anger at a supposed invasion of his right and title to
a particular seat in one of the boxes at the English opera--he having set
his heart upon that identical seat from the very beginning of the evening.
His opponent was a young gentleman named Dakins--a thin, genteel youth,
solemn and sententious in delivery, far above his years, and backed by a
host of friends. There was a world of oratory displayed on both sides; but
we have no room to report it: all we can do is, to give a bare narrative
of the facts.
Young Mr. Dakins occupied a front seat in one of the boxes till the
conclusion of the first piece. Then, having nothing else to do, he looked
round the house. Suddenly he espied a party of his friends, male and
female, in the very next box. They occupied the front seat and part of
the second; and he, perceiving that there was a vacant space on the
second seat, went and took possession of it forthwith, and was highly
delighted at the luckiness of the circumstance. In a few minutes in comes
the little round man--"Hallo!" says he, "you've got my seat, young man."
"_Your_ seat, Sir?" said the young man, with some surprise. "Yes, _my_
seat, Sir," replied the round one. "Well, Sir," rejoined the young one,
"you need not be so hot upon't--there is a very nice seat, which I have
just left, in the front row of the adjoining box--will you have the
goodness to take that, as I wish to remain here with my friends?" "No,
Sir," replied the round one, very waspishly--"no, Sir, I shall not! This
is my seat--I have _satten_ upon it all the evening, and I'll have no
other; and let me tell you, Sir, that I think your conduct in taking it,
Sir, very ungentlemanly, Sir!" The young man's friends now interfered, but
in vain; and at length they told him to let the little fat man have his
seat, and they would make room for him in the front row. So there they
sat, enduring all the moist miseries of four in a row, till the end of the
second piece; when the young man, turning round his head, perceived the
little round man's seat empty again; and, after waiting a few minutes, and
finding he did not return, he again took possession of it, to the great
relief of the poor ladies in the front row. But he had scarcely seated
himself when in pops the little round man again, and without saying more
than "I see this is done on purpose to insult me!" he seized the young man
by the collar of the coat behind, lifted him from the seat, and very
dexterously slid himself into it. In an instant all was uproar:--"Turn him
out!"--"Throw him over!"--The little fat man lost his balance, fell
backwards, and in that position he let fly "_an immense volley of kicks_,"
which the young man received on his stomach. The ladies shrieked, the
gentlemen tried to hold his legs down, the house cried "Shame!"--and at
length, after kickings and cuffings, and pullings and haulings, quite
distressing to detail, the little round man was delivered over to the
peace officers, and conveyed to the watch-house, panting like a porpoise,
and perspiring at every pore.
Thus far is partly from the evidence for the prosecution. For the defence,
it was contended that it was excessively ungentlemanly to deprive any
gentleman of the seat such gentleman might have occupied at the
commencement of the performance; and furthermore, that the little round
man was so roughly handled, that it was absolutely necessary for him to
_kick_ in his own defence; for, having once lost his perpendicular
position, his _rotundity_ of form made it extremely probable that he would
roll over the front of the boxes into the pit! Indeed it was asserted that
his enemies endeavoured to bring about that shocking catastrophe, and
that, had not a gentleman in the adjoining box held him back by the coat,
they certainly would have accomplished it.
The magistrate said there were faults on both sides. In the first place,
the defendant should not have quitted his seat without saying to his
neighbour that he intended to return; secondly, common courtesy ought to
have induced the complainant to have relinquished it when demanded; and,
thirdly, that the defendant should have demanded it civilly. Upon the
whole, it was a very silly piece of business, and he would recommend them
to retire, and make an end of it by mutual explanation, or apology.
This pacific advice, however, was rejected by both parties, and so the
little round man was held to bail.
A SPOILED QUADRILLE.
One _Solomon Dobbs_, an operative tailor, "all fudge and fooster," like a
superannuated goose, was charged by a very spruce young gentleman with
raising a false alarm against him, whereby he, the young gentleman, was in
imminent danger of being treated as a pickpocket, or something of that
sort.
The young gentleman, whose name we understood to be Henry Augustus
_Jinks_, was proceeding to his studies in _quadrilling_ at the dancing
academy, in Pickett-place, Temple Bar, about nine o'clock in the evening;
and being thinly clad, in silken hose, and all that, he was hurrying along
to keep himself warm and in proper quadrilling condition. Whilst he was so
hurrying along, with his head full of fiddles and new figures, he heard
somebody behind him cry "Stop!" and looking back, he saw Mr. Solomon Dobbs
waddling after him. Mr. Henry Augustus Jinks had no idea that the cry of
such a queer-looking man could be addressed to him, and so he continued to
run on; but Mr. Solomon Dobbs still waddled after him, exclaiming "Stop
him! stop that thief!" &c. though in such a thick husky voice that nobody
noticed him. Neither did Mr. Henry Augustus Jinks notice him, but ran on,
and on, till he arrived at the assembly-room; and the first
quadrille--which had been only waiting for him--was just about to be led
off, when in waddled Mr. Solomon Dobbs, and seizes Mr. Henry Augustus
Jinks by his quite clean, fresh-starched cravattery! to the great terror
of the ladies, the indignation of the gentlemen, the silencing of the
fiddlers, and total disarrangement of the quadrille! This was shocking
enough in all conscience; but how was the terror and indignation increased
when Mr. Solomon Dobbs, still holding the astonished Mr. Henry Augustus
Jinks by his clean cravat, told him in plain terms that he was a
_pickpocket_, and had robbed him of his watch! It was too much. The ladies
squealed, the gentlemen stormed, the fiddlers bagged their _cremonas_, and
Mr. Henry Augustus Jinks threatened an action of slander; but the master
of the ceremonies, more judiciously, ran for a watchman, and Mr. Solomon
Dobbs was carried off to the watch-house as a dangerous and evil-minded
_disorderly_.
The magistrate called upon Mr. Solomon Dobbs for an explanation of his
strange conduct.
"----And please your worship, I was not so sober as I might have been,"
solemnly replied Mr. Solomon Dobbs, with an owl-like twinkle of his
gin-quenched eyes.
"Had you any ground for the charge you made against this young gentleman?"
asked the magistrates.
"Your worship, I had not; and I really have no recollection of having done
what is laid to my charge," replied Mr. Solomon Dobbs, in deep
despondency.
"Then, by your own confession you are a drunken fool," responded his
worship.
Mr. Solomon Dobbs bowed assent.--Mr. Henry Augustus Jinks said he was
satisfied, and the matter was dismissed.
OYSTER EATING.
A law student was brought up from St. Clement's watch-house, to which
place he had been consigned between eleven and twelve on the preceding
night, at the suit of an ancient oyster-woman of that parish.
The venerable fishmongeress deposed, that the Law Student was in the
practice of occasionally taking oysters at her shop; and in general he
conducted himself like a very nice sort of gentleman--so much so, that she
had more pleasure in opening oysters for him than for any other gentleman
of her acquaintance; but on this unfortunate night he came in very tipsy,
and devoured so many oysters that she was quite alarmed at him. She
opened, and opened, and opened, till her hands and arms ached ready to
drop off, and still he kept craving for more; and he _would_ have them, in
spite of her remonstrating that he would certainly burst himself. At last
he took it in his head to go out to look at the weather, and she took that
opportunity of locking him out; thinking he would be satisfied with what
he had had, and would go quietly home; but instead of this, he commenced
an assault and battery on her door, and before she could unlock it, he had
not only forced it off the hinges, but had shivered one of the panels to
pieces with his foot. She was now more alarmed than ever, and fearing he
might even attempt to serve her as he had served the oysters, she
"_skreeked_ for the watch," and he was taken to the round-house.
The Law Student, who seemed to be still under the influence of the Tuscan
grape, heard all this with a quiet, comfortable simper; and then, with a
low lounging sort of bow to the lady, he said in a voice that seemed to
make its way with difficulty through a mass of oysters, "Suppose, Mrs.
Jinkins, I reinstate your door--you will be satisfied?"
"Sir," interrupted the magistrate, "you must satisfy me, as well as Mrs.
Jinkins; you have broken the public peace; let me know what you have to
say to that?"
"Your worship," replied the Law Student, with an oyster-oppressed sigh,
"your worship, I have nothing to say, save and except that I was rather--"
"_Drunk_, you mean to say," observed his worship.
"Your worship, I am sorry to say, conjectures rightly," replied the Law
Student, with another very graceful bow, and another sigh from the very
bottom of his oyster-bed.
"Then, Sir," rejoined the magistrate, "pay the woman for the damage you
have done her door--pay one shilling for your discharge fee, and five
shillings for being _drunk_; and then go about your business, and keep
yourself _sober_ in future."
The Law Student bowed again, and beckoned to a young man at the farther
end of the office, who instantly stepped forward and paid the money; and
then the Law Student, making two distinct bows--one to the magistrate, and
the other to his oyster-woman, slided genteelly out of the office.
A WATCHMAN'S WALTZ.
Two young men--the one a deputy drover, and the other an operative
boot-maker--were charged by a watchman with having "bother'd him on his
_bate_," and refused to "go along off of it when he _tould_ 'em."
He was asked to describe the nature of the _bother_; and he replied, that
they came rambling up to him _intosticatedly_, and _ax'd_ him--"Charley,
where am the _waits_?"[10] "I don't know," says I--"get along out of it;
and don't be after axing about such nonsense," says I. "We won't," says
they--"we'll wait for the _waits_ and have a dance, for we've nothing
better to do--without we go and break open a house!" says they to me.
"Fait," says I, "but ye'd better be off to the beds of ye, out of the
_kould_," says I; "and with that they got _hould_ of me, and twirled me
about and about for a bit of a _waultz_, as they called it. So then I
twirled my rattle, and they twirled me, and more watchmen came twirling
into it--that's the waltz: and we twirled and twirled, all in a bunch
together, till at last we managed to twirl them into the door of the
watch-house; and here they are, your honour, to answer for that same."
The defendants were asked what they had to say for themselves, and the
drover undertook to be spokesman:--
"Your worships, last night I lost two fat _ship_ (sheep), and I _goz_ me
over the water to see for 'em, and couldn't find 'em, not nowhere, your
worships. 'Dang the _ship_,' says I, '_vauts_ the use of _vaulking_ my
legs off arter 'em, I'll get a drop o' summat vaum and comfortable; so I
goz me into a public-house, and calls for a pint o' beer with the chill
off; and the beer, and the wexing about the _ship_, made me desperate
hungry; and so I _vaulks_ myself to a slap-bang shop, for half-a-pound of
beef; and just as I'd got it up, to pop in the first bit, a woman, _vaut_
I nows nothin' on, comes behind me, and vips it off the fork.--'Hallo!
missis,' says I, 'don't you come that 'ere agen.'"--
Here his narrative was broken off by the magistrate desiring him to come
to the watchman's charge at once; and he cut short his story by showing
his wrist, marked with five little wounds, all a-row; which wounds, he
said, were inflicted by the teeth of the lady who wanted his beef, and
that he "got _vell vhopp'd_ into the bargain by some of her chaps." Then
the loss of his sheep, the bite of the lady, and "the _vhopping_ of the
chaps," made him "desperate out of humour," and meeting with his old
friend the boot-closer, they went and got tipsy together, and, in that
state, they thought to have a bit of fun with the watchman; but he was
"sich a sulky chap," that he shut them up for it.
The magistrate told them to pay their fees, and go home, and mix a little
wisdom with their merriment in future.
A LITTLE BIT OF A CAUTION.
Patrick Saul, a good-humoured looking Irishman, was charged with
maliciously throwing a boy into a deep well, with intent to do him some
grievous bodily harm.
Robert Hemmet, the boy alluded to, was crossing a field at Walham-green,
when he met the prisoner, who asked him to fetch him half-a-pint of
porter, and, before he could reply, took him up in his arms, and threw him
into a well, in which there was seven feet depth of water. Having thrown
him in, he walked leisurely away, and had he not been fortunate enough at
his first rising to catch hold of the curb of the well, he must certainly
have been drowned.
Honest Patrick said he had no intention of injuring the boy; and he denied
that he walked away from the well after having thrown him into it. "I only
wanted to give him a dip, your honour, by way of a _little bit of a
caution_; _bekase_ he is always _tazing_ me about my country and my
languages, _bekase_ I happens to be an Irishman, your honour; and, _plase_
your honour, I never meets him not at no time, which is every hour in the
days of every week almost, but he comes after me with a 'Hurrah, Pat!
which way does the bull run now?' saving your honour's presence; and I
can't get any _pace_ for him at all, your honour."
The lad denied having insulted him in any way; but the magistrate did not
seem to give much credit to this denial. He, however, asked the prisoner
how he could think of adopting such a strangely violent mode of punishing
the boy, as throwing him into the water. "Why, _plase_ your honour, I
larned a little bit of the law in my own country," replied honest Patrick,
"and I understand thereby that I'd no right to take the law into my own
hands, by _bating_ him with a stick, so I dipp'd him in the water
instead."
The magistrate laughed at this curious distinction in Patrick Saul's Irish
law; and, after some further investigation, he was ordered to find bail
for the _assault_ only.
The magistrate observed this was a very serious charge, and told the
prisoner he ought to be very thankful he was not standing at that bar on a
charge of murder.
DUNNING EXTRAORDINARY.
Mr. Thomas Kingston, a military officer on the half-pay list, appeared in
custody to answer the complaint of Mrs. Bridget Bull.
Mrs. Bridget Bull was an old lady of respectable appearance, very gentle
in manners, and rather infirm. She deposed that the defendant, Mr.
Kingston, was indebted to her husband the sum of four pounds six shillings
and ninepence halfpenny, for goods sold and delivered; which debt he
neglected to discharge, and thereby caused her husband and herself much
trouble and inconvenience. That on Wednesday last, she, by desire of her
husband, waited upon defendant with an earnest request that he would
settle the account forthwith. Defendant said it was not convenient for
him so to do, and she therefore took upon herself to remonstrate with him
on the impossibility of their waiting any longer; whereupon he pushed her
out of his room with such violence, that she fell down and bruised her
arms and back shockingly.--In proof of the violence, she exhibited her
arms to the magistrate, and doubtless they were bruised shockingly enough.
Mr. Kingston, "a goodly portly man, of a cheerful look, a pleasing eye,
and a most noble carriage--and, as we think, his age some fifty--or, by'r
Lady, inclining to three-score," entered upon his defence with an
impassioned eloquence that would have done credit even to a Phillips. He
spoke of the nature of his income making it impossible for him to pay but
at stated periods; and of the remorseless rapacity of tradesmen. He
disclaimed all intention of hurting Mrs. Bull, expressed his pity for her
bruises, and contended that what he had done he did in his own personal
defence. After having expatiated on all these matters for some time, he,
at the earnest request of the magistrate, descended to a particular answer
to the charge at issue. In the first place, he said Mr. Bull came, in the
morning, urging payment in no very gentle terms. He promised him payment
as soon as he should receive money, and with that promise he departed
apparently satisfied. In less than an hour, however, just as he had
dressed, and was leaving home in search of money, Mrs. Bull, with bill in
hand, presented herself before the door of the house, and positively
forbade his egress. He requested her to get out of his way, and let him
pass about his lawful business; but the more he requested, the more she
refused. She declared she would never lose sight of him till he paid her
the money, and she dared him to send for a constable to remove her. Then
he told her he should retire to his own private apartment: and he warned
her of the impropriety and unconstitutionality of following him thither,
as he should consider it as his "castle," agreeably to the good old
English adage, for such cases made and provided. She vowed she would
follow him whithersoever he went, let the consequences be what they might.
Nevertheless, he did not believe she would dare to put this threat in
execution, and therefore he commenced a retreat towards his own private
apartment; and, to his great astonishment, she followed him step by step,
continually vociferating--"Pay me my bill! Pay me my bill!" Having reached
the first landing of the stairs, he attempted a parley, in the hope of
convincing her of the impossibility of his paying, without money to pay
with; but to all he said, she only answered--"Pay me my bill!" He
retreated farther up the stairs, remonstrating as he went, and she still
following with the hateful cry of "Pay me my bill!" even into the sacred
retreat of his own private apartment. What was to be done? Money he had
none, at that moment--he was not ashamed to confess it. He called a
council of war in his own mind, determined upon a system of operation, and
quietly, but firmly, addressing Mrs. Bull, he said, "Mrs. Bull--you come
here to seek money; I have none to give you--This room is my castle, and
if you do not depart _instanter_, I shall be under the unpleasant
necessity of compelling you." Having so said he advanced towards her, for
the purpose of gently ejecting her from the apartment, but she was too
quick for him; she eluded his grasp, and seizing him by the _under-lip_,
led him by it in triumph round the room! What could be more annoying than
this? To be led about by a violent old woman, holding by his stretched-out
and bleeding under-lip!
The magistrate admitted that it was a very awkward situation.
Mr. Kingston continued.--Under the circumstances, he called out, as well
as he could, for help; she cried out also--but it was the old inveterate
cry of "Pay me my bill!" At this moment a noise of people approaching was
heard, and she relinquished her hold upon his lip. He went to the door,
and saw it was Mr. Bull, and a whole posse of his servants and neighbours,
coming to the assistance of the lady; and seeing this, he resolutely
seized her by the shoulders, put her out of the room, and locked the door
before the great body of the enemy could reach it. This was the whole head
and front of his offending. If the lady fell and hurt herself in
consequence of his ejecting her, he was sorry for it; but she had brought
it upon herself by her own misconduct. Finally, he submitted to the
magistrate that he was justified in what he had done, inasmuch as the lady
was a trespasser on his premises, and he had taken the only means in his
power of removing the _nuisance_.
The magistrate held that the means he had used were improper. If, when she
insisted upon remaining in his house, he had sent for a constable to
remove her, he would have done right. On the contrary, he had taken the
law into his own hands, and must therefore find bail to answer the assault
at the Quarter Sessions.
STREET ETIQUETTE.
This was a proceeding by warrant upon a matter of assault and battery,
alleged to have been perpetrated upon the person of a very nice young
attorney, Mr. William Henry Squibb, by John Bloomer, a youthful and
golden-haired grower of cauliflowers and capsicums, in a pleasant village
on the banks of the Thames.
Mr. William Henry Squibb deposed, that on the 22nd of March, between the
hours of eight and nine o'clock in the evening, he, the said William
Henry, was passing through Leicester-square, in the parish of St. Anne,
Soho, and in the county of Middlesex, in perfect good-humour with all men.
That as he (the said William Henry) was so walking, in manner aforesaid,
and having a new brown silk umbrella on his shoulder, firelockwise, he was
aware of the defendant John Bloomer coming, in an opposite direction, in
company with two feminine persons, commonly called, "ladies of easy
virtue" by the polite--"blowens" by the vulgar--and "courtesans" by the
classically fastidious--he, the said John, having one of the said
courtesans on either arm, and thereby monopolising at least two-thirds of
the pavement. That he, the said William Henry, without having any or the
slightest intention of offending the said John, regarded the aforesaid
ladies of easy virtue with a _kind of smile_; whereupon the said John,
being of irascible and pugnacious temperament, did then and there tell the
said William Henry that he resembled an _index post_, with his umbrella
over his shoulder, and that if he did not get out of his way, he would
twist him up into a figure of 8! That the said William Henry, though he
had no objection to be denominated an _index_, simply, yet he could not
bear to have the appellation _post_ applied to him; especially when
coupled with the threat of distorting his person so shockingly as to
produce the figure of 8; and considering the aforesaid appellation and
threat as calculated and intended to excite a breach of the peace, he did
forthwith lay hands on the coat collar of the said John and call loudly
for the watch, in order that the said John might be conveyed to durance as
a daringly dangerously disorderly sort of personage; but that the said
John, without waiting the arrival of the watchmen, did instantaneously let
fly a right-handed, point-blank belly-go-fister into the bread-basket[11]
of the said William Henry--thereby depriving him of his wind, and
convincing him that he had formed a right opinion of the dangerous
qualities of the said John.
This was the substance of the evidence; and it farther appeared, by the
conversations which ensued, that Mr. William Henry Squibb not only lost
his _wind_, but his umbrella also, by the violence of the stomachic
concussion above mentioned; but that nevertheless a parley ensued, which
ended in Mr. John Bloomer going voluntarily to the watch-house; there, the
night constable refusing to interfere, cards of address were interchanged;
that, on the following morning, and for several days thereafter, sundry
Chalk Farm-_ish_ messages passed and repassed between the parties: that
their gunpowder propensities, however, gradually and mutually evaporated;
and, in conclusion, Mr. William Henry Squibb "determined to apply to the
laws of his country, for redress."
Mr. John Bloomer began his defence by informing the magistrate, that it
was an understood thing--a sort of _street etiquette_ observed by all
well-bred people--that when one gentleman happened to be in company with
ladies of a certain description, no other gentleman should at all
interfere in the business; either by "casting tender regards" upon the
said ladies, or otherwise. This general understanding the complainant had
grossly violated, by looking very significantly towards the whole party;
and he, therefore, very properly, as he thought, applied the term
"_index-post_" to him and his shouldered umbrella; but complainant took
the term so to heart that he seized him by the collar, and then he
certainly did strike him something in the manner he had described; and he
would do so again under similar circumstances, let the consequences be
what they might. He would not be insulted, he said, by any man, or
attorney either.
Mr. William Henry Squibb now drew forth a large bundle of letters
(supposed to be the warlike epistles above-mentioned) and was preparing
himself to go more fully into his case, when the magistrate desired him to
reserve his _documents_ for the sessions, for he really had no more time
to _waste_ upon the matter; and having so said, he ordered the defendant
to find bail.
In less than ten minutes, however, the parties again presented themselves
before the bench, and said they had agreed to shake hands and say no more
about it; upon which his worship observed, that he wished with all his
heart they had thought of that mode of settling the matter an hour
sooner.
THE LOVES OF M'GILLIES AND JULIA COB.
Mr. Robert M'Gillies was brought before the magistrates to answer the
complaint of Miss Julia _Cob_. Mr. Robert M'Gillies was a tall, stout,
portly, middle-aged, Scottish gentleman; and Miss Julia Cob, a diminutive
Hibernian young lady, in a richly braided dark blue habit, smart riding
hat, long black veil, and red morocco _ridicule_.
Miss Julia Cob made a multitude of complaints, by which it appeared that
whilst she was living, a gay and happy spinster, with her friends in
Dublin, she was courted by Mr. Robert M'Gillies, whose card bore the
initials "M. P." after his name: and she, conceiving that M. P. meant
"Member of Parliament," lent a willing ear to his honied words. That she
afterwards discovered his profession was the taking of likenesses, and
that the M. P. meant _Miniature-Painter_. That notwithstanding the
disappointment of this discovery, she continued her affections towards
him, and eventually consented to come with him to England--not as his
wife, but as his friend _pro tempore_; for she could not think of taking
up with a miniature-painter for life. That they did come to England
accordingly, and took up their rest in London; but from that period Mr.
Robert M'Gillies became an altered man; he relinquished his M. P.
profession, and lived entirely upon her means, spending almost his whole
time in smoking and drinking, lying in bed with his clothes on, and
amusing himself between whiles with tearing his and her garments in shreds
and tatters. That at length her affection for him began to evaporate, and,
being much impoverished by these vagaries of his, she determined "To
whistle him off, and let him down the wind to prey on fortune," as Othello
talked of doing by the gentle Desdemona. That in consequence of this
determination she "got herself acquainted" with another lover--not a
Scottish and sottish _soi-disant_ M. P., but a real, unadulterated, and
genuine Irish Mem. Par.--one who had taken a house for her in
Norfolk-street, Strand, furnished it fit for a princess to live in, and
provided her with all things fitting for a lady in her situation. That Mr.
Robert M'Gillies felt himself so dissatisfied at this new arrangement,
that he forced his way into her new abode in Norfolk-street, turned her
char-woman out of doors, broke her glasses, tore her clothes to ribbons,
spat in her face seventeen times, and swore he loved her so that she
should never live with any other _jontleman_ till she was _completely_
dead and done with.--Nay more--having done all this, he laid himself
down on the best bed in the house, and, taking out his pipe, began smoking
away as he used to do at home; though she told him her new lover "couldn't
abide the smell of _baccah_."
[Illustration: MR. ROBERT M'GILLIES.]
Under these circumstances, Miss Julia Cob begged the magistrates to
interpose the strong arm of the law between her and Mr. Robert M'Gillies.
He was a strong, powerful man, she said, and she verily believed he would
never let her go to her grave alive--a figure of speech which she
afterwards explained to mean--that she verily believed be intended to do
her some grievous bodily harm--or, in other words, he intended to prevent
her going to her grave in the natural way.
The officers who took Mr. Robert M'Gillies into custody, stated that they
found him--though in the middle of the day--stretched out at full length
in bed, with all his clothes on, except his coat, and smoking a long pipe;
and on the chair by his bedside was a quantity of tobacco, and a large
jorum of ale.