intention of going to the play, but in his way thither he met Miss Hannah
Maria Juliana Shum. And she looked at him from under her black arched
eye-brow with such a look as he could in no wise resist. Now, since he
could not resist, he should have turned his back and fled; but instead of
flying he stood still, and asked her how she did. She replied, that she
should be very well if she was not so very cold; and sighing deeply, she
added, "Oh! what a delightful thing is a glass of nice hot
brandy-and-water on such a piercing night as this!" Here was a direct
appeal to the young gentleman's generosity, and gallantry, and all that
sort of thing, and everything in the world almost; and he could no more
resist the appeal than he could the sparkling of her jet-black eye. So he
gave her his arm and his heart together, and looking round, he saw the
words "Fine Cognac Brandy, neat as imported," staring him full in the face
from the windows of a tavern, most opportunely opposite. What was to be
said for it? Nothing at all. In his opinion the brandy-and-water was
inevitable, and they went into the tavern and drank a glass; and so
delightful did they find it, that they had another, and another, and
another. But still, as Miss Hannah Maria Juliana Shum poetically
remarked--
"The sweetness that pleasure has in it,
Is always so slow to come forth,"
--that they had another glass or two to help it to come forth faster, and
it did--to such a degree, that the young gentleman took up the song and
sang--
"As onward we journey, how pleasant,
To pause, and inhabit awhile
These few _gassy_ spots, like the present,
That 'mid the dull wilderness smile[34]!"
By-and-by two other ladies, friends of Miss Hannah Maria Juliana Shum's,
dropped in, and the gentleman insisting upon it, they also had some
glasses of hot brandy-and-water, which they also found very delightful. In
short, they were all so jocund, that at length the gentleman made up his
mind to make a night of it:--"But first," said he, "I should like just to
step home and tell them not to sit up for me."--"Tell the devil!"
exclaimed Miss Hannah Maria Juliana Shum--"that's all a _hum_; for if you
goes away you'll not come back again." The gentleman was shocked; but his
love was not shaken, and he pledged his honour that he would return.
"_Honour_ is all my eye," said the gentle Juliana Shum?"--pledge your
_honour_ indeed!--will you pledge a _sovereign_?"--"I will!" said the
gentleman; and he did--for, as we have already stated, he was a _young_
gentleman. The ladies waited his return because they were not remarkably
well able to go, in consequence of the cogniac. How they amused themselves
during his absence did not appear, but when the gentleman returned, he
very _naturally_ expected the return of his sovereign; and the ladies very
_naturally_ knew nothing about it; whereupon the young gentleman's love
exploded, with a bounce; and his love being all gone, he was ungallant
enough to send his once-loved Miss Hannah Maria Juliana Shum, all
brandy-begone as she was, to the watch-house.
During the night, however, he repented himself of his cruelty; and he now
told the magistrate that he did not wish to prosecute her. "I am a young
man," said he, "just verging into the affairs of the world; and a business
of this kind has such an ugly look with it, that I shall be much obliged
to you, Sir, if you will let the lady go, and I am sure she is very
welcome to keep my sovereign."
The gentle Juliana, seeing matters in this comfortable train, ventured to
tender the gentleman his sovereign again, which he as tenderly refused;
and then the magistrate dismissed them both with a rather untender
admonition.
ROEBUCK _versus_ CLANCEY.
Mr. Timothy Clancey, landlord of the Robin Hood public-house in Holborn,
appeared before Thomas Halls, Esq., to answer the complaint of Mrs.
Penelope Roebuck; a fine, bouncing, well-dressed dame, fat, fair, and
forty. She had her left eye in deep mourning; and he had as many black
patches on his face as the renowned Munchausen.
"May it please your worship," said Mrs. Penelope Roebuck, wiping her
comely cheeks and bruised eye with a lavender-scented cambric
handkerchief--"May it please your worship, I am Mrs. Roebuck, the wife of
Mr. Roebuck, of Somers Town; and yesterday I walked all the way from
Chelsea, which very much fatigued me, as your worship may suppose; and
being fatigued, I went into Mr. Clancey's, for I had always understood Mr.
Clancey to be a mighty nice sort of a man. 'And pray, Mr. Clancey,' said
I, 'would you have the goodness to make me sixpenn'orth of brandy and
water, warm, with a little sugar in it?' 'No, _mem_,' said he, 'it is not
in my power to make sixpenn'orth of brandy and water--the _dooties_ are so
high; but you may have eightpenn'orth. 'Very well,' says I, 'it's quite
_himmyterul_; make me eightpenn'orth.' With that, your worship, he made me
a very nice glass of brandy and water, and I sat myself down to take it by
little and little; for I'm not a person _what's_ given to take my liquor
by lumps; but I had scarcely wetted my lips, when he took a very improper
liberty--such a liberty, your worship, as I suffers no man to take with
me, be he whomsoever he may; and, 'Mr. Clancey,' says I, 'I shouldn't have
thought of it from such a _fellur_ as you.' I might have said something
else, your worship, but that's neither here nor there; Mr. Clancey,
without saying another word, good, bad, nor indifferent, _had the
goodness_ to come out of his bar, and, turning my two hands behind my
back, he _conducted_ me out of the house, and _had the goodness_ to fling
me down on the hard pavement!--by which _purlite_ behaviour my eye was
blacked, as you see, and my dress, worth at least five pounds, completely
_remollished_.
Mr. Timothy Clancey, mine host of the Robin Hood, in his defence, said,
Mrs. Roebuck, whilst drinking her brandy and water, abused his wife so
grossly, that he firmly, but civilly, desired her to leave the house; but
he had no sooner done so, than she flung the goblet, she was drinking
from, in his face. The goblet struck him full on the nose, by which it was
shivered to pieces, and his nose and face sadly cut. In proof of these
premises, he produced the broken goblet, and pointed to the black silk
patches, which almost covered his countenance. "I then, and not till
then," said he, "laid hands upon Mrs. Roebuck, and thrust her out of my
house--and that, I assure your worship, was the only _liberty_ I took with
her."
Mrs. Roebuck did not attempt to rebut this statement, and the warrant was
discharged.
PIG WIT.
This was a proceeding _in limine_, by which the plaintiff sought
reparation for violence done to his religious scruples and bodily health,
by the act of the defendant; inasmuch as he, the plaintiff, being a _Jew_,
the defendant, on Wednesday, the twelfth of that present December, at
eleven o'clock in the forenoon, in the parish of St. Paul, Covent Garden,
did, with malice afore-thought, knock him down with a _pig's head_,
contrary to the statute, and against the peace of our Sovereign Lord the
King, his crown and dignity.
Both plaintiff and defendant pleaded each for himself; no counsel being
retained on either side.
Ephraim Ephraim deposed, that he was by profession an orange merchant,
carrying on his business in Covent-garden Market; that the defendant,
Richard Stewart, was a dealer in pork and poultry in the said Market; and
that he, the said Richard Stewart, on the day and hour above stated, did
thrust a "_pig's face_" against his cheek with such violence, as to throw
him backwards into a chest of oranges, whereby he sustained great damage
both in mind, body, and merchandise. Plaintiff stated, moreover, that he
had previously, and on sundry occasions, forewarned the said Richard that
it was contrary to the tenets of his religion to come in contact with
pork; and yet, nevertheless, the said Richard did frequently, and from
time to time, obtrude pork upon his attention, by holding it up aloft in
the market, and calling to him--"Ephraim! will you have a mouthful?" All
this, he humbly submitted, betokened great malice and wickedness in the
said Richard, and he therefore besought the magistrate to interpose the
protection of the law in his behalf.
The magistrate observed, that he was astonished a person of Mr. Stewart's
appearance and respectability should be guilty of such conduct; and having
explained to him that the law afforded equal protection to the professors
of every religion, he called upon him for his defence.
[Illustration: PIG WIT.]
"May it please your worship," said Mr. Richard Stewart--an elderly,
well-fed man, of a jolly and pleasant countenance--"May it please your
worship, I keeps a stand in Covent-garden Market, and have done so any
time these ten years; and Mr. Ephraim's stand is next to mine. Now, your
worship, on Wednesday morning I'd a hamper o' pork up out o'
Hertfordshire; and so I opened the hamper; and, at the top on it, lay a
nice head; off of as sweet a pig as ever suck'd; and I takes the head, and
holds it up; and, says I, 'Here's a bootiful head!' says I. 'Did ever any
body see such a handsome un?'--And sure enough, your worship, it was the
most bootiful as ever was; and would have done anybody's heart good to see
it--it was cut so clean off the quarter (drawing his finger slowly and
scientifically across the brawn of his own neck,) and was so short i' the
snout, and as white as a sheet it was, your worship; quite remarkable
handsome. And so I said, says I, 'Look here! Did ever anybody see sich a
picture?' holding it up just in this manner. With that, 'Ah!' says Mr.
Ephraim, says he, 'now my dream's out--I dreamt last night that I saw two
pigs' heads together, and there they are!'--meaning my head and the pig's
head, your worship. Well, I took no notice o' that, but I goes me gently
behind Mr. Ephraim, and slides the pig's head by the side of his head,
claps my own o' the other side--all a-row--with the pig's i' the middle,
your worship; and says I to the folks, says I, 'Now, who'll say which is
the honestest face of the three?' With that, your worship, all the folks
fell a laughing, and I goes myself quietly back again to my stall. But
poor Ephraim fell in such a passion!--Lord! Lord! it were a moral to see
what a pucker he were in!--he danced, and he capered, and he rubbed his
whiskers--though I verily believe the pig's head never touched him--and he
jumped and fidgeted about all as one as if he was mad, till at last he
tumbled into the orange-chest, your worship, of his own accord, as it
were; and that's the long and short of it, your worship, as my neighbours
here can specify."
His worship having listened attentively to these conflicting statements,
decided that the defendant had acted indecently in insulting the
religious feelings of the plaintiff; though, at the same time, the affair
was hardly worth carrying to the sessions, and therefore he would
recommend the plaintiff to be satisfied with an apology.
The defendant expressed the greatest willingness to apologise--"For," says
he, leaning over the table, and sinking his voice to a whisper, "I asked
another Jew what could make Mr. Ephraim in such a passion, and he told me,
your worship, that if you get a rale Jew and rub him with a bit o' pork,
it's the greatest crime as ever was."
Plaintiff and defendant then retired, and the matter was compromised.
[Illustration]
AN IRISH TAILOR.
Edward Leonard was charged with having assaulted Mary, the wife of Thomas
Reid.
This was a watch-house charge, and appeared to have originated thus:--Mr.
Leonard lodges in the house of Mr. Reid, and like most of his countrymen
of the like class, he is given to imbibing more beer than his brains will
bear. This seems to have been the case with him on Saturday night, for he
came home at a most unseasonable hour, and because Mr. Reid would not get
up and light a candle for him, he most unconscionably threatened to
fracture his skull, break his back, and put his nose out of joint. Now Mr.
Reid is a quiet, harmless, little man, and, being at that time warm and
comfortable in his bed, he thought it best to lie still and take no
notice. But Mrs. Reid--knowing Ted Leonard's furious propensities, and
fearing he would really attempt to do some one or other of those things he
had mentioned--got up to remonstrate with him; and in so doing she was
rudely pushed about by Ted Leonard, who talked of the liberties he ought
to be allowed as a lodger. The d----l a bit he cared for the whole house
put together, he said; and, if it was not for the trouble of it, he would
make every man and woman in the place fly out of the top of the chimney!
And still he kept calling upon poor Mr. Reid to get up and have his nose
put out of joint; and he made such a tremendous hubbub, not only in the
house, but in the whole neighbourhood, that at last, by common consent, he
was sent off to the watch-house.
The poor woman was either so unwell, or so much agitated, whilst she was
telling this story, that the magistrate ordered her a chair, and Mr. Reid
himself was pale as death with fear! but nevertheless they both said they
had no wish to proceed in the business--all they wanted was to be allowed
to sleep more quietly in future.
As for Teddy Leonard himself, he seemed perfectly at his ease, though he
was in wretched case for so high-spirited a person! His principal garment
had doubtless done good service to at least a dozen proprietors in
succession, his inexpressibles (drab _slacks_) were napless,
grease-spotted, and ventilated at the knees; and he had only one shoe--but
then he had plenty of black eyes, and his large small-pox-indented cheeks
were very handsomely overlaid with a fret-work of scratches.
When Mr. and Mrs. Reid had said all that they had to say, he never
attempted to reply; but stood lounging against the bar, sucking his teeth
and twirling his hat, until the magistrate called upon him for his
defence, and thereupon ensued the following colloquy:--
"What have you to say to all this, Mr. Leonard?"
"Humph, I don't know! they've served me pretty tidy going along, I think,
punching at me with their shilaleghs as they would at a woolsack!"
"Perhaps you did not go along quietly?"
"No, 'faith, I wasn't likely, for I was thinking of going to bed at that
time; and there's no fun in being pulled away to a watch-house when a
man's thinking of going to bed."
"What are you? what is your trade?"
"My trade?--why I'm a tailor--the more's my luck!"
"Please your worship," said one of the watchmen--seemingly quite surprised
at finding he had had so much trouble with a _tailor_--"please your
worship, as we were taking him to the watch-house, he took up his fist and
knocked me down like a bullock!"
"Are you the man that poked your stick in my eye?" said Teddy
Leonard--turning very leisurely to the speaker--"When a watchman had hold
of the two sides of me, each of 'em fast and sure; there was he jumping
before me, and poking his stick at me like a cock sparrow. Och! but I wish
I know'd you when I see'd you this morning!"
"Well, you know him now," said the magistrate.
"Know him!" replied Teddy Leonard--"not I faith, for it's a disgrace to be
after knowing such a consarn; and by the same token, your worship, he, or
some of the rest of 'em, pocketed my shoe that night--and I hav'n't got it
since, but another."
"But how came you to alarm these honest people in the way you have done?"
said the magistrate--"have you a wife of your own?"
"No, indeed--nor like to have; for I'm quite alone, and comfortable."
"Well, then," said his worship, "we must endeavour to make you let other
folks be as comfortable as yourself, by calling upon you to find
securities for your keeping the peace in future."
"Very good, your worship--that's all very right--and I dare say I'll keep
the peace longer nor the peace keeps me," replied comfortable Teddy; and
so saying he followed the jailer to his uncomfortable apartments.
BOX-LOBBY LOUNGERS.
Among the watch-house rubbish brought before the magistrate one morning,
were three of that description of _bipeds_ commonly called "_Lobby
Loungers_," or "Box-Lobby-loungers," or "Half-and-half swells;" that is to
say, half sharp and half flat--half a bottle and half price, half bully
and half boor--in plain terms, idle young men, with empty heads and full
stomachs; who, in all the magnificence of a full pint of cape, strut into
a theatre at half price, and manifest their gentility by swaggering from
box to box, pinching the strumpets, d----g the box-keepers, and annoying
the sensible part of the audience as much as they dare.
Our three prisoners strutted into the box department at the English
Opera-house, on the preceding night, at half price, and _half seas
over_--whether with cape, black strap, or blue ruin, did not appear. Two
of them were _particularly half seas over_, viz.--Mr. Bob Briggs, and Mr.
Simeon Buck;--the other, Mr. Frederic William Diggles, was but so so. They
first addressed themselves to the dress circle, when Mr. Bob Briggs, a
slight-made, half-grown, flaxen-haired youth, instead of waiting for the
box-keeper to open the door of the box in which he wished to make his
_debut_, set about kicking it with all his might. What gentleman of spirit
would waste his breath in bawling for a box-keeper, when his own foot,
well applied to the door, must inevitably compel the "spooneys" within to
open it?--And so it turned out; some of the quiet ones within, hearing
such a magnificent thundering, did open it; and Mr. Bob Briggs was just
setting himself to make his _entree_, room or no room, when one of the
box-keepers came up and assured him the box was full, at the same time
endeavouring to close the door again. "What d'ye mean by that, ye
_rascal_!" cried Mr. Bob Briggs, "is that the way to treat a _gentleman_?"
"Sir," said the box-keeper, "I mean no offence, and if you will walk this
way I will endeavour to find you a seat upstairs." "Up stairs be d----d!"
retorted Mr. Bob Briggs, "I shall go in here, come what come may, as old
what's his name says; so come along, Sim Buck!--_Hiccup._" They instantly
tried to force themselves into the box; the box-keeper and the company
tried to keep them out; the constable was called; and, with some ado, he
prevailed upon them to relinquish their attempt upon that particular box.
But Mr. Constable had scarcely let them go, when the hubbub was renewed;
and turning back, he found they had got the box-keeper up in a corner, and
were trying, as he said, "to squeeze their money out of him;"--for they
had made up their minds to stick to the dress circle, and since there was
no room for them in the dress circle, they insisted upon having their
half-crowns back again--"_so fork out the blunt_, you little rascal!"
There was a great row; the entrance to the lobby was blocked up; the
constable again interfered: Mr. Simeon Buck collared the constable; the
constable collared Mr. Simeon Buck; Mr. Frederic W. Diggles caught hold of
Mr. Simeon Buck's coat tail, and tried to pull him away from the
constable; the constable only held him the faster, determined to send him
to the watch-house; and there was poor Mr. Simeon Buck, see-sawing
backwards and forwards, with the constable pulling away at his neck, and
Mr. Frederic W. Diggles at his tail, for nearly ten minutes; whilst Mr.
Bobby popped about the lobby like a pea upon a tobacco-pipe; squeaking for
help, and wishing all contumacious constables, and "blackguard
box-keepers," at the very _diable_! At length the constable prevailed, and
Mr. Simeon Buck, half-strangled, and sadly damaged in his cravattery, was
led away to the watch-house, followed by Mr. Bob Briggs, and Mr. Frederic
W. Diggles; and there all three were safely stowed away for the night.
When brought before the magistrate, they defended themselves
vigorously--alleging that there was plenty of room in the box they sought
to enter, and that they had done nothing worthy of the misery that had
been inflicted on them.
The magistrate told them he could see plainly how their case stood. They
were young men of great respectability, he had no doubt; but on the night
in question they had taken a little too much wine; and the wine had made
them a little too presuming; and the presumption had excited them to
disorderly conduct; a riot had ensued, assaults had been committed, and by
a very natural consequence, they passed the remainder of the night in the
watch-house.
Messrs. Simeon Buck and Bob Briggs were then ordered to find bail for the
general riot; and Mr. Frederic W. Diggles, for assaulting the constable in
the execution of his duty.
IRISH GALLANTRY.
Mrs. O'Reilly, wife of Laurence O'Reilly, "coal and potaty merchant, handy
by _Clear_ market," charged Mr. Ralph Hogan, a comely young man, of
five-and-twenty, with attempting to make her a false woman to her own
lawful married husband!
"And please your magistrate," said Mrs. O'Reilly, "Misther Hogan is a
lodger of ours, and a civilish sort of a jantleman in gineral, and
turncock to the New River Company"--
"Faith that I am, Misthress O'Reilly," responded Mr. Hogan, "any time
these three years--come a fortnight after last St. Patrick's-day!"
"Very good, Misther Hogan; and ye see I wouldn't be telling a lie for the
matter--why should I?" rejoined Mrs. O'Reilly very complacently;--and
then, turning to the magistrate, she proceeded--"And plase your
magistrate, Misther Hogan is a nice civilish sort of a young jantleman as
a body would wish to be spaking to--ounly that time he couldna withstand
_timptation_; and that was last Sathurday, after tay, when my husband
wasn't in the place, and the childer were abed, and I was ironing their
best bits of frocks for the Sunday, plase your magistrate. And Misther
Hogan sat down by the fire mighty quiet--'And what do I owe you, Misthress
O'Reilly,' says he--'for the rint?' says he. 'Just one week of it, Misther
Hogan,' say I, 'for you're a nice man, and always true for the rint, and I
likes to have you for a lodger overmuch.' Och! bad luck to me for saying
that! for Mr. Hogan couldna stand the kind word at all, but must be
flinging out his coortships at me--against both the law and the
gospel--saving your magistrate's presence. 'And what would ye be after,
Misther Hogan?' says I--'Don't you know I'm the mother of my husband's
childer any time these thirteen long years--and himself coming in every
minute may be, Misther Hogan!' says I. 'Gad's blood! Misthress O'Reilly,'
says he, 'to the devil I will pitch him, for myself can't do without ye
any longer at all!' and down on his knees he went to me at that time,
mighty queer; and up he gathers himself again, and comed at me; and I
tried to smooth him down with the hot-iron, but he wouldn't be quiet by no
manes for me; and a noise comed to the door, and I squaled, and the
neighbours comed trembling into the place, and there was an end
on't--plase your magistrate."
Whilst Mrs. O'Reilly was telling her story, Mr. Hogan stood carefully
wiping his hat; and when she had done, the magistrate asked him what he
had to say for himself; at the same time telling him he thought he had
behaved very grossly.
"Devil burn me! your worchip," replied Mr. Hogan--"but I'm just fit to
split for spaking! Och! woman, woman! what is there half?----but my
_honour's_ consarned, your worchip, and I won't--I won't say nothing, come
what will!"
The gallant Turncock persisted in this generous forbearance, and he was
held to bail to answer for the loving assault at the ensuing Sessions.
THE END.
Footnotes:
[1] This was before the passing of the _New Vagrant Act_--
"When free to follow nature was the mode,
And tyrant _tread-mills_ had not shackled man."
[2] A tailor, when asked what he is, never replies simply, "I am a
_tailor_;" but, "I am a tailor, by _trade_"--thereby seeming to signify
that he is not a _tailor_ by _nature_.
[3] An _ultra_-napped driving, or box coat.
[4] _Toggery_, from the Roman _toga_.
[5] _Gumption_, strength, either bodily or mental.
[6] _Peel_, to strip, to disrobe.
[7] _Done_, caught, beat.
[8] A dram, a drop of _max_.