1815.
Health of the King -- Extension of the Order of the Bath -- Wife
selling -- A Sailor's frolic -- "Nelson's Lady Hamilton" --
"The Pig-faced Lady" -- The advantage of being able to play the
violin -- Napoleon's escape from Elba.
Neither this, nor any of the succeeding years of the Regency, can
produce any string of events to vie with 1814. After that stirring
year, all others fall flat. Still, with the exception of Napoleon's
hundred days, we shall probably find more social chit-chat in them,
than those which have preceded them in this Chronicle. Unfortunately
for me there is no _sequence_ of events, and my narrative must,
necessarily, be made up of disjointed fragments culled from various
sources, but which, nevertheless, illustrate the idea of this
book--the Social life of the period.
First of all, let us look at the health of the poor old King, now
nearly half forgotten. One bulletin will suffice, as it exactly
expresses his state for the year. "WINDSOR CASTLE, _February 4_.--The
King continues in good health; but since the last Report his Majesty
has been less uniformly tranquil than he was during some preceding
months." His bodily health was good, and mentally he was generally
composed, and tranquil, with occasional outbursts of furious mania,
and, in any case, his mental alienation was continuous: he never
recovered his reason.
One of the first public acts of the Regent, in this year, was to
enlarge the Order of the Bath. The long and arduous duties of our
troops merited some reward when peace was obtained; and, although
they only did their duty, as our troops do now, they were not
thanked, as now, by the Sovereign after every little skirmish, nor
were medals so lavishly given as now. Every one knows the length of
time before the Waterloo medal was issued to all who were worthy
of its receipt. The orders of Chivalry were few, and it was then
an honour to receive a decoration. Going on at the present rate,
knighthood will soon be about on a par with the Order of S.S. Maurice
and Lazarus.
At all events, the extension of the Order of the Bath was fixed
upon, and a good choice it was, because it was not of mushroom
creation, as it was instituted in 1399. After Charles II., it fell
into abeyance, until George I. revived it in 1725. The _London
Gazette_ of 3rd of January, gives the ordinance enlarging this Order
of Chivalry, which, henceforth, was to consist of Knights Grand
Cross, Knights Commander, and Companions. The number of Knights Grand
Cross was limited to 72; 60 Military and 12 Civil. This number might
be exceeded by the addition of Princes of the Blood Royal holding
high Commissions in the Army and Navy. The rank required for this
dignity is that of Major-General in the Army, and Rear-Admiral in
the Navy. The Civilians should have rendered eminent services to
the State, either in civil, or diplomatic employment. The Second
Grade was not to exceed 180 in number, exclusive of foreign officers
holding English Commissions, but these were, for the present, limited
to 10, but might be increased. This honour was only bestowed on
Lieutenant-Colonels, and Post-Captains. The Companions embraced a
wide field, their number was much larger, and any one was eligible
for the decoration who had received a medal, or other badge of
honour, or had been mentioned by name in the _London Gazette_ as
having been distinguished by valour in action. The members now,
according to Debrett for 1888, are Knights Grand Cross--50 Military,
25 Civil; Knights Commanders--123 Military, 80 Civil; Companions--690
Military, and 250 Civil.
Things matrimonial must have been very bad, for I find the record of
no less than three sales of wives during this year. The first is in
January: "MATRIMONIAL SALE.--Tuesday s'en night, a man named
John Osborne, who lived at Gondhurst, came to Maidstone, for the
purpose of disposing of his wife by sale; but, it not being market
day, the auction was removed to the sign of 'The Coal-barge,' in Earl
Street, where she was actually sold to a man named William Serjeant,
with her child, for the sum of one pound. The business was conducted
in a very regular manner, a deed and covenant being given by the
seller, of which the following is a literal copy:--
"I, John Osborne, doth agree to part with my wife, Mary Osborne,
and child, to William Serjeant, for the sum of one pound, in
consideration of giving up all claim whatever, whereunto I have
made my mark as an acknowledgement.
"MAIDSTONE, _January 3, 1815_. X"
The next case is in July: "SMITHFIELD BARGAIN.--One of those scenes
which occasionally disgrace even Smithfield, took place there about
five o'clock on Friday evening (July 14th), namely--a man exposing
his wife for sale. Hitherto, we have only seen those moving in the
lowest classes of society thus degrading themselves, but the present
exhibition was attended with some novel circumstances. The parties,
buyer and seller, were persons of property; the lady (the object of
sale), young, beautiful, and elegantly dressed, was brought to the
market in a coach, and exposed to the view of her purchaser with
a silk halter round her shoulders, which were covered with a rich
white lace veil. The price demanded for her, in the first instance,
was eighty guineas, but that finally agreed on, was fifty guineas,
and a valuable horse upon which the purchaser was mounted. The sale
and delivery being complete, the lady, with her new lord and master,
mounted a handsome curricle which was in waiting for them, and drove
off, seemingly nothing loath to go. The purchaser, in the present
case is a celebrated horsedealer in town, and the seller, a grazier
of cattle, residing about six miles from London. The intention of
these disgusting bargains is, to deprive the husband of any right of
prosecution for damages."
The third example is as follows: "On Friday last (September 15th) the
common bell-man gave notice in Staines Market, that the wife of ----
Issey was then at the King's Head Inn, to be _sold_, with the consent
of her husband, to any person inclined to buy her. There was a very
numerous attendance to witness this singular sale, notwithstanding
which only _three shillings and four pence_ were offered for the lot,
no one choosing to contend with the bidder, for the fair object,
whose merits could only be appreciated by those who knew them. This,
the purchaser could boast, from a long, and intimate acquaintance.
This degrading custom seems to be generally received by the lower
classes, as of equal obligation with the most serious legal forms."
"A SAILOR'S FROLIC.--Yesterday (February 9th) morning early, a
sailor who had been lately paid off, and who had been riding in a
coach, about the streets, with a fiddler playing, the preceding
night, strolled into Covent Garden Market, when he was asked by one
of the basket women, whether he wanted anything carried for him?
He replied that he wished to be carried himself, to a place where
he could get some breakfast. The woman, who wanted to go home to
her lodging in St. Giles's, agreed to take him in her basket, to a
coffee shop at the corner of High Street; the sailor got in, first
getting his pipe lighted, and sat cross-legged, smoking his pipe, in
the woman's basket, which was set upon her head by others of her own
fraternity. She went off, followed by a great concourse of spectators
of every description, and, without once resting, took her load to its
destination, when the sailor rewarded her with a pint of rum, and a
pound note."
On the 17th of January died "Nelson's Lady Hamilton," whose career
was a remarkable one. Born of poor parents, at a little village in
Cheshire, Amy Lyons early went into domestic service. Being very
beautiful, she soon attracted notice, with the usual result. After
being the mistress of more than one, Mr. Greville took her under
his protection, and, when he deserted her, she associated herself
with that arch quack Doctor Graham, of "Celestial bed," and "earth
bathing" notoriety. While with him, she posed as _Hebe Vestina_, a
part for which her beautiful face and figure eminently fitted her.
She ultimately married the celebrated virtuoso Sir William Hamilton,
who was the English Ambassador at Naples. At that Court her vivacity
was much appreciated, and she was the constant companion of the
Queen. Of her connection with Nelson everybody knows.
During the War the farmers had coined money, in spite of their
wretchedly bad farming; but the introduction of foreign wheat, and a
not too plentiful harvest, brought about a state of things, of which
we are now experiencing a parallel. Under date of February 13th we
read: "In many counties of England, the farmers are giving up their
leases in great numbers. A farm belonging to Bethlehem Hospital,
which let a few years since for £1,100 per annum, and was afterwards
risen to £6,000 per annum, is now offering for £4,000 per annum, but
with little prospect of its being taken at that rent." Does not this
read like a chapter of to-day? The rents raised until the farmers
could not farm profitably, and then the land unoccupied.
"The Pig-faced lady" is to be heard of in several European countries;
but, perhaps the earliest one noticed in England, although not a
country woman, was Frau Tanakin Skinker. Of her, however, we only
hear through the medium of a very rare book published in London in
1641 entitled, "A certain relation of the Hog-faced Gentlewoman," but
of her, together with an old black-letter ballad on another damsel
equally afflicted, I have already written in my book on "Humour, Wit
and Satire of the Seventeenth Century."
In February, 1815, there was a widespread belief in the existence,
in London, of such a monstrosity, and she is depicted in this
illustration which is called "Waltzing a Courtship." There is also
another engraving of her, showing her seated playing the piano,
but very thinly veiled, so that her porcine countenance is plainly
visible. I believe there is also another, but this I have not seen,
where she is seen standing by a table, on which is her silver
feeding-trough.
[Illustration: Waltzing a Courtship.]
_The Times_, which was not quite so matter of fact then, as now,
gives the following account of "her sowship." In its issue of
February 16th is the following: "There is, at present, a report in
London, of a woman, with a strangely deformed face, resembling that
of a pig, who is possessed of a large fortune, and, we suppose, wants
all the comforts and conveniences incident to her sex and station.
We, ourselves, unwittingly put in an advertisement from a young
woman offering to be her companion, and, yesterday morning, a fellow
transmitted to us another advertisement, attended by a one-pound
note, offering himself to be her husband. We have put his offer in
the fire, and shall send his money to some charity. Our rural
friends hardly know what idiots London contains. The pig's face is
as firmly believed in by many, as Joanna Southcot's pregnancy, to
which folly it has succeeded. Though no Parson Tozer has yet mounted
the rostrum to preach in support of the face, there is hardly a
company in which this swinish female is not talked of; and thousands
believe in her existence. The story, however, is an old one. About
fifty-three years ago, it is well remembered by several elderly
people, there was exactly the same rumour. It was revived, with but
slight effect about thirty years since; and now comes forth again in
its pristine vigour. On the original invention of the pig-faced woman
about the year 1764, a man offered to make her an ivory trough to
feed out of...."
The following is the advertisement referred to: it appeared in _The
Times_ of Feb. 9th. "FOR THE ATTENTION OF GENTLEMEN AND LADIES. A
young gentlewoman having heard of an advertisement for a person to
undertake the care of a lady, who is heavily afflicted in the face,
whose friends have offered a handsome income yearly, and a premium
for residing with her for seven years, would do all in her power to
render her life most comfortable; an undeniable character can be
obtained from a respectable circle of friends; an answer to this
advertisement is requested, as the advertiser will keep herself
disengaged. Address, post paid, to X Y, at Mr. Ford's, Baker, 12,
Judd Street, Brunswick Square."
The advertisement which follows is probably that rejected by _The
Times_, but inserted in _The Morning Herald_ of Feb. 16th. "SECRECY.
A single gentleman, aged thirty-one, of a respectable family, and in
whom the utmost confidence may be reposed, is desirous of explaining
his mind to the friends of a person who has a misfortune in her
face, but is prevented for want of an introduction. Being perfectly
aware of the principal particulars, and understanding that a final
settlement would be preferred to a temporary one, presumes he would
be found to answer the full extent of their wishes. His intentions
are sincere, honourable, and firmly resolved. References of great
respectability can be given. Address to M. D., at Mr. Spencer's, 22,
Great Ormond Street, Queen's Square."
Captain Gronow refers to this lady.[35] "Among the many absurd
reports, and ridiculous stories current, in former days, I know of
none more absurd, or more ridiculous, than the general belief of
everybody in London, during the winter of 1814, in the existence
of a lady with a pig's face. This interesting specimen of porcine
physiognomy was said to be the daughter of a great lady residing in
Grosvenor Square.
[Footnote 35: "Recollections and Anecdotes," 1863, p. 111.]
"It was rumoured that during the illuminations which took place to
celebrate the Peace, when a great crowd had assembled in Piccadilly
and St. James's Street, and when carriages could not move on very
rapidly, 'horresco referens!' an enormous pig's snout had been seen
protruding from a fashionable-looking bonnet in one of the landaus
which were passing. The mob cried out, 'The pig-faced lady!--the
pig-faced lady! Stop the Carriage--stop the Carriage!' The coachman,
wishing to save his bacon, whipped his horses, and drove through the
crowd at a tremendous pace; but it was said that the coach had been
seen to set down its monstrous load in Grosvenor Square.
"Another report was also current. Sir William Elliot, a youthful
baronet, calling one day to pay his respects to the great lady in
Grosvenor Square, was ushered into a drawing-room, where he found a
person fashionably dressed, who, on turning towards him, displayed a
hideous pig's face. Sir William, a timid young gentleman, could not
refrain from uttering a shout of horror, and rushed to the door in a
manner, the reverse of polite; when the infuriated lady, or animal,
uttering a series of grunts, rushed at the unfortunate baronet as he
was retreating, and inflicted a severe wound on the back of his neck.
This highly probable story concluded by stating that Sir William's
wound was a severe one, and had been dressed by Hawkins, the surgeon,
in South Audley Street.
"I am really almost ashamed to repeat this absurd story; but many
persons now alive can remember the strong belief in the existence of
the pig-faced lady, which prevailed in the public mind at the time of
which I speak. The shops were full of Caricatures of the pig-faced
lady, in a poke bonnet and large veil, with 'A pig in a poke' written
underneath the print. Another sketch represented Sir William Elliot's
misadventure, and was entitled, 'Beware the pig-stye.'"
The _Annual Register_, which is supposed to contain nothing but
facts, is responsible for the following, under date Feb. 25th: "A
foreign journal contains the following laughable anecdote of a French
fiddler of the name of Boucher, who, lately, came to push his fortune
in London. On his arrival at Dover, across the Channel, he had the
mortification to see his fiddles seized by the officers of the
Customs. It was in vain he protested that they were not articles of
Commerce, but instruments for his own use; and that, if he meant to
make money by them, it was, at least, not by their sale. The fiscal
agents were deaf; the fiddles must pay duty. To fix the amount, their
value must be estimated: and Mr. Boucher was desired to set his
own value on the fiddles; he fell into the snare, and fixed a very
moderate price.
"Then, in virtue of Custom-house regulations unknown to our
travelling musician, they offered him 15 per cent. more than the
valuation, and declared they would keep the instruments. Our artist
was in despair; he complained, he prayed, he threatened, but all
in vain; there was only one resource,--that of going to London to
claim the interference of the French Ambassador; but, to do this,
he must part from his dear fiddles, the instruments of his glory,
and his fortune. He wished, at least, to bid them a last adieu, and,
taking up one of them, he brought from it such melodious, but doleful
sounds, as corresponded with his feelings. The Custom-house officers,
attracted by the notes, formed a group round him, which gradually
increased, so that the office could no longer contain the collected
auditors. They begged the musician to pass into a large lobby, to
which he, unwillingly, assented. There, on the top of the staircase,
he performed several pieces which charmed even fiscal ears. Animated
by his success, the artist surpassed even himself, and the enthusiasm
of his audience was at its height, when they heard _God save the
King_ executed, with the most brilliant variations. How repay so
much talent and complaisance? Everything was forgotten; even the
regulations of the Custom-House. 'Sir,' said the Chief of the Customs
to the French Virtuoso, 'take back your fiddles; you may boast of
a finer, because a more difficult triumph than that of Orpheus. He
melted only the infernal deities, but you have made the douaniers of
Dover relent.'"
Here is a curious superstition which comes from a Bath paper: "A
young woman, who had been married only three months, and lived at
_Widcomb_, being summoned to answer a charge of a breach of the
peace, at the instance of her mother-in-law, threw herself into
the river, at _Widcomb_, and was drowned. Every means to discover
the body have, hitherto, been ineffectual, on account of the great
height of the river, through the late rains. It is curious, however,
to observe some of the methods which fancy, or superstition, has
suggested in order to find the body:--among others, a large drum,
carried in a boat, has been beaten down the river, under the idea
that its sound would alter when approaching the drowned person; and
a small loaf, laden with quicksilver, has been set afloat, which, it
is presumed, would be stopped in its progress, by attraction, when
approaching the immersed object."
In this month of February an event occurred, which stirred Europe
to its very foundation. The lion, so fondly believed to be caged at
Elba, got unchained, and, leaving his petty island kingdom, on the
26th of Feb., he landed at Cannes on the 1st of March. There was
consternation, to use the mildest term, all over Europe. The French
king believed that he would soon be driven back; but in his advance,
his army increased like a vast snowball, and poor Louis had once
more to retire. The Congress at Vienna was broken up, unregretted by
any one, and the Allies entered into a compact, engaging themselves
not to quit the field until Napoleon was subdued. The news was not
received here until the 10th of March, and the _Times_ of next
day, fairly foams over it. "Early yesterday morning, we received
by express from Dover, the important, but lamentable intelligence,
of a civil war having been again kindled in France, by that wretch
Buonaparte, whose life was so impolitically spared by the Allied
Sovereigns. It now appears that the hypocritical villain, who, at the
time of his cowardly abdication, affected an aversion to the shedding
of blood in a civil warfare, has been employed during the whole time
of his residence at Elba, in carrying out secret and treasonable
intrigues with the tools of his former crimes in France," &c.
The Newsboys in London must have reaped a rare harvest.
"Twang went the horn! 'Confound that noise!'
I cried, in pet--'these plaguy boys
Are at some tricks to sell their papers,
Their _blasts_ have given me the _vapours_!'
But all my senses soon were stranded,
At hearing, 'Buonaparte's landed!'
'Landed in France!' so ran the strain,
And 'with eleven hundred men.'
'Ho, post!' 'Who calls?' 'This way.' 'I'm coming!'
'The public, surely, he is humming,'
Said I. 'A paper--what's the price?'
'A shilling.' 'Why, that's payment twice!'
'As _cheap as dirt_, your honour, quite;
They've sold for half-a-crown to-night.'
'But is the news authentic, friend?'
'_Ofishul_, sir, you may depend.--
The _Currier_ third edition.' 'So!
Well, take your money, boy, and go.'
Now, for the news--by what blunder
Has he escaped his bounds, I wonder."
Rothschilds had the first news, one of their clerks coming express
from Paris to tell them. Doubtless they took advantage of their
information.
END OF VOL. I.
UNWIN BROTHERS, THE GRESHAM PRESS, CHILWORTH AND LONDON.
* * * * *
[Transcriber's note: Obvious printer's errors have been corrected,
all other inconsistencies are as in the original. The author's
spelling has been maintained.
--"country some were hanged, but this really some" changed to
"country some were hanged, but this really served"
--"lest twenty years;" changed to "last twenty years;"
--The _Vielle Cour de Versailles_ changed to "The _Vieille Cour de
Versailles_"
--"Les Jésuites sout par tout," changed to "Les Jésuites sont par
tout,"
--Text between = is underlined in the book.]