A smuggler's victim -- Illness of Gilray -- A gallant highwayman
-- A Witch -- Bartholomew Fair -- The Comet -- A Practical joke
on the Queen -- Woman's Cricket Match -- Ballooning -- French
prisoners of war -- Luddite riots -- The King and his physicians
-- His health.
The odds and ends of gossip for July may be taken briefly as
follows--Smuggling was very common, and our grandfathers had not the
faintest notion that they were doing wrong in purchasing wares that
had never paid the King his dues. In fact, many were proud of it.
Sometimes they got sold, as the following story will vouch for. It
happened that in Windsor and its neighbourhood, a woman, clad in a
long red cloak, appeared, calling about dusk at several houses with
a sample of excellent Cognac brandy. She stated that her husband
was waiting at a little distance with several casks of the same,
which they could sell at a very low price. Several people agreed to
take Casks, which were duly delivered, and the money for which was
properly paid. Alas! alas! when the brandy came to be tapped it was
nothing but water.
Poor Gilray, the Caricaturist, from whom I have so much borrowed,
and who exemplified the manners of his times as well as ever Hogarth
did, had been ill, and had knocked off work for some time--yet he
still lived at Mrs. Humphrey's house in St. James Street, attempted,
while in a fit of delirium, to throw himself out of the attic storey
window. Luckily for him there were iron bars to that window, and
his head got jammed, which, being perceived by a Chairman waiting
outside White's Club, who instantly went to render assistance, he
was extricated, and proper persons were appointed to take care
of him. Poor Gilray etched his last picture in 1811, and it was
entitled, "Interior of a Barber's Shop in Assize Time," but it was
not published until May 15, 1818, nearly three years after his death,
which took place on the 1st of June, 1815. It is a comfort to know
that from the setting in of his mania until his death, he was well
looked after by his old friend Mrs. Humphrey.
It is hard to have to chronicle the rise and fall of a most useful
invention, the percussion _Cap_, which was patented by the Rev. A.
J. Forsyth, of Belhevie, Aberdeenshire, on the 11th of April, 1807.
Lepage, the noted gun-maker of Paris pirated it; and Napoleon, in
1811, ordered it to be generally introduced into the French Army.
It has been superseded, or rather its form has been altered by the
modern breech loader.
Good manners and courtesy from Robber to robbed evidently had not
gone out of fashion with Claude Duval, and a "gentle thief" was
not unknown, as the Miss Somervilles could testify. They were in a
carriage with their papa, who was a surgeon, when it was stopped, on
Hounslow Heath, by a _foot pad_--for there were subtle distinctions
in theft in those days. The Man who robbed you, and was on horseback,
was at the top of his profession--he was a Highwayman; but the poor,
scurvy rogue whose financial arrangements could not compass the
dignity of a horse, was a common thief, a wolf's head, a foot pad.
This mean specimen of roguery, only armed with a Clasp Knife, with
many oaths, declared that he would operate upon the Surgeon to his
disadvantage, unless he gave him his money. Under this compulsion
Mr. Somerville gave him all he had about him, two five-pound notes,
and four shillings; meanwhile the women folk, who saw what was being
done to dear papa, besought the evil-doer, with tears in their eyes,
and their money in their hands, to take what his strong arm had won,
and depart in peace. Then the innate chivalry of that robber arose
within him, and he said, in a somewhat mixed vein of politeness, and
brutality, "Nay, ladies, don't be frightened, I never did the least
injury to a woman in my life, nor never will, d--n me; as for your
money, keep it yourselves: all that I ask from you is a kiss apiece;
if you grudge me that, I'm sure you are neither sensible, nor good
humoured." _Væ Victis!_ The soft penalty was paid, and the wicked man
turned away from his wickedness after doing a mild "Confiteor "--that
he had spent all his money very foolishly, and the sum in which he
had mulcted papa would carry him to his friends, and then he should
have plenty. It was the first robbery he had ever committed, and it
should be the last--and then he faded into the _ewigkeit_. But how
about the stout coachman and footman who drove, and sat behind the
carriage? Probably Somerville _père_ had something to say to them on
his return home.
Here is another case of wickedness, by a supposed Witch, the belief
in Witchcraft being a cult not yet thoroughly ignored in England,
copied from the _Annual Register_ of August 26th: "At the Bridgewater
assizes, Betty Townsend, a very old woman, aged 77, who for many
years past has been considered by the superstitious as a _Witch_,
was tried for obtaining money of a child under the following
circumstances: The prosecutor, Jacob Poole, was a labouring man,
residing in the hamlet of Taunton, in which parish the prisoner also
resided, and he had been in the habit of sending his daughter, aged
about thirteen, with apples in a basket, to market. About the 24th
of January last, the old woman met the little girl, stopped her,
and asked to see what she had in her basket; which, having examined,
she said to her, 'Hast' got any money?' The child said she had none.
'Then get some for me,' said the old woman, 'and bring it to the
Castle (a tavern in Taunton) door, or I will kill thee.' The child,
terrified at such a threat from a witch, procured two shillings, and
carried it to her; when the old woman said, ''Tis a good turn thou
hast got it, or else I would have made thee die by inches.' This
was repeated seven times within five months, when Poole, the girl's
father, going to the shop of Mr. Burford, a druggist in Taunton, to
pay a little bill which he owed for medicine, found no less than
seven different charges against him for money lent; and, on inquiry,
found that different small sums of two shillings, half-a-crown, five
shillings, &c., had been borrowed by the little girl in her father's
name, for the purpose, as she said, of going to market, but carried
as a peace-offering to the old woman. The whole was now discovered,
and Poole's wife, and another woman, took the girl with them to the
prisoner's house, and interrogated her as to the facts. She admitted
a knowledge of the girl, but, on being reprehended for her conduct,
raved and swore, that if they dared to accuse her, she would make
them 'die by inches.' 'No,' said Mrs. Poole, who appears to have
thought that she knew much better how to deal with a Witch than her
daughter, 'that thee shall not--I'll hinder that': and, taking a
pin from her clothes, she scratched the witch from her elbow to her
wrist, in three places, _to draw her blood_, a process, believed to
be of unfailing efficacy, as an antidote to witchcraft. The idea of
this wicked woman's power has had such an effect upon the mind of
the poor little girl, that she is now reduced to such a state of
debility, that she is scarcely able to take any sustenance. The Jury
found the prisoner guilty (_what of?_); and the Judge observed that
only her extreme old age prevented him from pronouncing on her the
severest sentence the law would allow. She was sentenced to pay a
fine of one shilling, and to be kept to hard labour in the House of
Correction for six Calendar months."
Bartholomew Fair must be within the recollection of many of my
readers, for it was not abolished until 1855. At one time it was
always opened by the Lord Mayor--yet it reads with an old-world
flavour that "Yesterday Morning (Sept. 3) the Lord Mayor, attended
by the City Marshals, &c., went in procession, after having partaken
of a cool tankard at the house of Mr. Newman, the keeper of Newgate,
to the corner of Long Lane, West Smithfield, where the fair was
proclaimed, and all its usual din and bustle commenced." The fair was
not finally suppressed until 1855.
[Illustration: The Comet of 1811.
(_Published by T. Moon, January, 1811._)]
It was not till 1835 that Bull baiting was made illegal in England,
and it is refreshing to read that the bull, even for a very short
time, had the best of his human persecutor, who on such an occasion
ever cuts a sorry figure. _Morning Chronicle_, Sept. 4th: "A
dreadful catastrophe occurred at Chapel Wake, Birmingham, on Tuesday
last. A concourse of people having assembled at the Fives Court,
Lawrence Street, for the purpose of baiting a bull, the enraged
animal broke loose, and ran with great fury into Coleshill Street.
A Scene of the greatest confusion ensued. An infant, three months
old, was killed on the spot: two women and boys were dreadfully
trampled and bruised, and remain in the hospital with little hopes of
recovery, and many others received injury." _Bravo Toro!_
Annus Mirabilis! A Regent, and a Comet! According to Shakespeare,
when "beggars die, there are no Comets."[6] These Celestial
aberrations are for far greater mundane personages--they are for the
great ones of the earth only; and, again, from the same authority we
learn that "Comets importing change,"[7] is fairly fulfilled in the
Regency.
[Footnote 6: _Julius Cæsar_, act ii. sc. 2.]
[Footnote 7: I _Henry IV._, act i. sc. 1.]
Of course the Caricaturist got hold of it, and fixed it for all time.
"The Comet of 1811" has, as nucleus, the _facile princeps_ of his
age. Its tail is studded with celebrities, all of whom I cannot,
unfortunately, make out. First is Earl Moira, then Sheridan and
Erskine; Lord Derby with his hydrocephalous forehead, and the Duke
of Norfolk. Behind Lord Derby is Col. Bloomfield; behind him is
Lord Grenville, and side by side with him are Temple and Buckingham,
whose wig and spectacles betray him anywhere. The last face to be
recognized is that of Earl Grey.
This Comet was discovered at Viviers on the 25th of March, by M. de
Flanguergues, and was again noticed by M. Pons at Marseilles on the
11th of April. It was seen at Paris on the 20th of May, but was not
generally visible in England until the latter end of August or the
beginning of September. It was nearest to the earth on the 24th of
October, and then it went on its course, and, in due time, vanished.
In September a practical joke was played, on no less a person than
the Queen. For four consecutive days, ending Sept. 26th, Buckingham
Palace, or, as it was then called, the Queen's House, was besieged by
Washerwomen, from morning till night. It seems that a woman, calling
herself the head of the Queen's laundry had gone round to hundreds
of Washerwomen, telling them that she had held her present situation
for five years, and that she had been obliged to discharge all her
staff, because they did not wash the royal linen clean, and also that
they got drunk. She was very affable with her dupes, and was not
above drinking with them, or of borrowing from them, cloaks, shawls,
umbrellas, and other trifles, promising some of them two guineas a
week, others 4s. a day, a pot of porter, and as much rum, gin, and
wine as they chose.
[Illustration: Rural Sports; or a Cricket Match Extraordinary.
_Rowlandson._]
Early on Monday morning they began to arrive, about 6 o'clock, so
as to set to work, and it was in vain that the porters refused them
admission. Their tale was, that the lady who had hired them, had
given them the key of the laundry to let themselves in, so that they
might get to work, light the fire, &c. But, as there was no laundry
at Buckingham Palace, they sent the poor women to St. James's Palace,
where there was one, and, when they got there, it was only to be told
that none had been engaged, nor even wanted. One can imagine the
scene, more especially as many of the poor women had come from great
distances, some had left good situations to go there, and others had
sent their children into the Country to nurse, in order to enable
them to take the place.
A more pleasing contest of women took place on the 3rd of October,
1811, in the shape of a Cricket Match between two teams, not the sort
of thing as "Actresses" Cricket, which is now played between a team
each of men and women, the former being armed with broom handles,
the latter with cricket bats; but a much rougher sort of thing, if
we can believe the accompanying illustration, which is taken from an
etching of Rowlandson's, called "RURAL SPORTS, OR A CRICKET MATCH
EXTRAORDINARY. On Wednesday, Oct. 3, 1811, a Singular Cricket Match
took place at Ball's Pond, Newington. The players on both sides were
22 Women, 11 Hampshire, against 11 Surrey. The Match was made between
some amateur Noblemen of the respective Counties, for 500 Guineas a
side. The performers in the Contest were of all ages and sizes."
The Match really began on the 2nd of October, and lasted three days,
the Hampshire team winning. The ages varied from 14 to upwards of
forty.
Rowlandson sketched with a freedom approaching decided
coarseness--but his sketches were natural, and in this instance
valuable, as showing us Cricket as then played, although the game,
with its two stump wickets, curved bats, and primitive scoring was
then obsolete, at least in matches.[8]
[Footnote 8: The third stump was added by the Hambledon
Club, 1775.]
But, if we can believe the same artist, Baldwin and his congeners
were outdone this year by a woman descending from a balloon in a
parachute. It is taken from an etching by Rowlandson, dated the 25th
of October, 1811, and entitled "Balloon Hunting." It represents the
mishaps of a party of ladies who went balloon hunting across country,
in a one-horse vehicle, the shafts of which are smashed, and the
horse is being reduced to docility by the driver. I know of no woman
who descended by means of a parachute, in this year.
They were not novelties, for André Jacques Garnerin, the Aëronaut,
came down in one in 1802, and, according to Larousse, Elisa, daughter
of Jean Baptiste Olivier Garnerin, brother of the above, was the
first woman who tried a "drop from the clouds." She made her first
descent in 1815, and in 1820 had made over twenty.
[Illustration: Rural Sports; Balloon Hunting.
(_By Rowlandson, published October 25, 1811, by Thomas Tegg._)]
Taken as a whole, the French Prisoners of War, whose numbers were
ever increasing, were not a bad lot of fellows. There were many
breaches of parole, and large numbers of the rank and file, and
seamen got away; for, in a Trial in the Court of King's Bench,
November 14, 1811, the Attorney-General asserted that, of the
French Officers, prisoners of war, on their parole, in this country,
one-fourth had effected their escape: and that one condition on which
smugglers from this country were permitted to land their goods in
France, was the bringing over with them, a French prisoner.
Those interned at Cupar fitted up a neat little Theatre, which was
opened on the 3rd of September. A prologue composed by one of the
Officers, complimentary to the inhabitants for their hospitality to
the Captives, was spoken and acted. This was followed by a Comedy
in verse, by Regnard, called "Les Folies Amoureuses," and an after
piece "Le Quaterne." The Scene painting, interior decorations of the
theatre, Stage Apparatus, and Costumes, were all their own work: nor
did they stop there, for they had an excellent band of their own.
But they could behave sternly on occasion, if there is any truth in
the following story. In May, 1811, the French prisoners confined
on board the _Sampson_ (prison ship lying in the Medway), formed
a conspiracy to forcibly take possession of the ship, and effect
their escape, which was prevented by one of their number imparting
secretly their projected plan to the commanding officer. Enraged at
the disappointment of their hopes, they used every effort to find out
the individual by whose communication their secret had transpired;
and having, as they thought, fixed upon the right man, as soon as
they were locked up for the night, they formed a Court, for his
trial, at which a _procés verbal_ was drawn up, declaratory of their
proceedings. The suspected traitor was found guilty, but there was
a difference of opinion as to his punishment, and it was at last
resolved and carried into effect, that he should be tattooed on his
forehead and cheeks "J'ai vendu mes frères aux Anglais abord le
ponton 'Le Sampson,' 31 Mai, 1811."
There is not much more to chronicle for the remainder of this year,
except the Census, and we must glance at the figures to see the
enormous difference in the population then, and now. In 1811, the
whole population was 12,552,144, in 1881, 35,246,562, or, in other
words, the population had all but trebled itself in 70 years. In
the last Census (1881) the sexes were very evenly balanced, being
17,253,947 males, and 17,992,615 females, and so they were in 1811,
6,310,548 males, and 6,241,596 females.
Still the Luddite Riots must not be forgotten, for, at one time, they
threatened to be somewhat serious. They began in the neighbourhood of
Nottingham, the Manufacturers there, having been obliged, from the
decrease of demand for their manufactures, to discharge many of their
workmen, and consequently much distress was caused. Nor was this all;
a certain wide frame for weaving stockings had been introduced, which
saved much labour, and, consequently, fewer hands were wanted. In
November, these riots became rather serious, as, not only were the
obnoxious frames smashed, and manufacturers' stock destroyed, but
millers, corn dealers, &c., suffered, and the military had to be
called out. Their name was taken from their imaginary leader, one
Captain Ludd, who never had any existence, but probably stood for the
Committee of Management.
At this time, at all events, the public were free from the sickening
details of the illness of Royalty, such as they have lately had--in
the case of the German Emperor, Frederic--details which could do
no good whatever to the outer world, and which must have been very
painful to the relatives of the deceased Kaiser. They managed things
better in George III.'s reign. If the medical men quarrelled, they
did not openly wash their dirty linen, but it only was known to a few
that Dr. Willis's treatment of his Royal patient, during his former
illness, had been considered unnecessarily severe, and that, perhaps,
they were not too well content to have him associated with them in
the present crisis: still for the first year or so, the people, who
really loved old Farmer George, were kept fairly acquainted with the
state of his health, until it became hopeless--and then, perhaps very
wisely, they only were fed with the merest details of his disorder.
In February, the King was getting so well that the Queen and one
of the Princesses, on more than one occasion visited him: then he
suffered from a paroxysm of mania, to which succeeded a calm, during
which he took his constitutional walks on the Terrace. In March,
he got better, so much so, that on the 31st of March, the prayers
for his recovery were discontinued in the Chapel Royal, and, at the
Queen's Monthly Council, it was hoped that he would recover, so
that he had the key of the Cabinet Council Despatch Boxes, and, in
other ways, was treated as a responsible being. In May, his health
was capricious, but still he was able to walk and ride in public.
June brought a relapse, and his case was deemed hopeless, yet he
still occasionally took walks. In July, he was in a very dangerous
state, opiates had to be administered, and he partook of very little
solid food. In August, it was said that his suite of apartments
were padded to prevent his doing himself a mischief, but this was
denied. September was a better month for him, but, in October, he
retrograded. November and December only show him as leading a fairly
healthy animal existence.
[Illustration: 1812, or Regency à la Mode.
(_Drawn and etched by W. Heath._)]