Anecdotes of the Manners and Customs of London during the Eighteenth Century; Vol. II (of 2) - Including the Charities, Depravities, Dresses, and Amusements etc.

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Title: Anecdotes of the Manners and Customs of London during the Eighteenth Century; Vol. II (of 2) - Including the Charities, Depravities, Dresses, and Amusements etc.
Author: Malcolm, James Peller
Language: English
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*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Anecdotes of the Manners and Customs of London during the Eighteenth Century; Vol. II (of 2) - Including the Charities, Depravities, Dresses, and Amusements etc." ***

Transcriber's Notes: Words in italics in the original are surrounded by
_underscores_. A row of asterisks represents a thought break. A complete
list of corrections as well as other notes follows the text.

ANECDOTES

OF THE

MANNERS AND CUSTOMS

LONDON

DURING THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY;

INCLUDING

THE CHARITIES, DEPRAVITIES, DRESSES, AND AMUSEMENTS,
OF THE CITIZENS OF LONDON,
DURING THAT PERIOD;

WITH A REVIEW

OF THE

STATE OF SOCIETY IN 1807.

TO WHICH IS ADDED,

A SKETCH OF THE DOMESTIC ARCHITECTURE, AND OF
THE VARIOUS IMPROVEMENTS IN THE METROPOLIS.

ILLUSTRATED BY FORTY-FIVE ENGRAVINGS.

BY JAMES PELLER MALCOLM, F. S. A.

AUTHOR OF "LONDINIUM REDIVIVUM," &c. &c.

THE SECOND EDITION.

VOLUME II.

_LONDON_:
PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, AND ORME,
PATERNOSTER ROW.
1810.

John Nichols and Son, Printers,
Red Lion Passage, Fleet Street, London.

_CONTENTS_

THE SECOND VOLUME.

CHAP. V. Page.

Public Methods of raising Money exemplified in
Notices relating to Lotteries, Benefit Societies, &c. 1

CHAP. VI.

The Religious and Political Passions of the Community
illustrated by Anecdotes of popular Tumults 11

CHAP. VII.

Amusement--Detail of its principal Varieties since
1700 107

CHAP. VIII.

Anecdotes of Dress, and of the Caprices of Fashion 312

CHAP. IX.

Domestic Architecture traced from its origin to its
present improved state in London--Lighting and
improving of Streets--Obstructions in them--Ornaments,
&c. 358

CHAP. X.

Sketch of the present State of Society in London 406

_PLATES_

THE SECOND VOLUME.

The Plates of Dress (chronologically) 312

Croydon Palace }
Brick Gateway near Bromley } 364

The Views of Antient and Modern Houses 366

The general Views 404

CHAP. V.

PUBLIC METHODS OF RAISING MONEY EXEMPLIFIED, IN NOTICES
RELATING TO LOTTERIES, BENEFIT SOCIETIES, &C.

The community of London had superior advantages an hundred years past
in the State Lotteries, though, if interested Office-keepers could be
credited, the Londoners of the present Century enjoy greater gaming
privileges than the world ever yet produced. The reader shall judge
between the schemes of 1709 and 1807. The Post Boy of December 27 says,
"We are informed that the Parliamentary Lottery will be fixed in this
manner:--150,000 tickets will be delivered out at 10_l._ each ticket,
making in all the sum of 1,500,000_l._ sterling; the principal whereof
is to be sunk, the Parliament allowing nine _per cent._ interest for
the whole during the term of 32 years, which interest is to be divided
as follows: 3750 tickets will be prizes from 1000_l._ to 5_l. per
annum_ during the said 32 years; all the other tickets will be blanks,
so that there will be 39 of these to one prize, but then each blank
ticket will be entitled to fourteen shillings a year for the term
of 32 years, which is better than an annuity for life at ten _per
cent._ over and above the chance of getting a prize." Such was the
eagerness of the publick in subscribing to the above profitable scheme,
that Mercers-hall was literally crowded, and the Clerks were found
incompetent to receive the influx of names. 600,000_l._ was subscribed
January 21; and on the 28th of February the sum of 1,500,000_l._ was
completed.

The rage for Lotteries reigned uncontrouled; and the newspapers of the
day teemed with proposals issued by every ravenous adventurer who could
collect a few valuable articles; and from those shopkeepers took the
hint, and goods of every description were converted into prizes, even
neckcloths, snuff-boxes, toothpick-cases, linen, muslin, and plate. The
prices of tickets were generally sixpence, a shilling, half a crown,
&c. At the latter end of the year just mentioned, the Magistrates,
being alarmed, declared their intention of putting the Act of William
and Mary in force, which levied a penalty of 500_l._ on the proprietor,
and 20_l._ on each purchaser. In the tenth of Queen Anne another Act
was passed for suppressing private Lotteries, which was followed by a
second to prevent excessive and deceitful gaming.

Matthew West, a Goldsmith, of Clare-street, Clare-market, appears to
have been the man who first divided Lottery-tickets into shares. He
advertised in 1712, that he had sold 100 tickets in the million and an
half Lottery in twentieths, and purposed pursuing his plan, which was
well received.

The Lottery for 1714 contained 50,000 tickets at 10_l._ each, with 6982
prizes and 43,018 blanks; two of the former were 10,000_l._ with one
of 5, another of 4000_l._ a third of 3000_l._ and a fourth of 2000_l._
five of 1000_l._ ten of 500_l._ twenty of 200_l._ fifty of 100_l._ four
hundred of 50_l._ and six thousand four hundred and ninety-one of 20_l._

Besides the drawing for prizes and blanks, there was another for the
course of payment, and each 1000 tickets was called a course. The
payments to the receivers were on the 10th of November and 10th of
December 1713. When the Tickets were drawn, they were exchanged for
standing orders, and thus rendered assignable by endorsement; all the
blanks were repaid the 10_l. per_ ticket at one payment, in the order
their course of payment happened to fall, and they bore an interest
of four _per cent._ from Michaelmas 1713. The prizes were payable in
the same manner: the first drawn ticket had 500_l._; the last 1000_l._
besides the general chance; 35,000_l. per annum_ was payable weekly
from the Exchequer to the Paymaster for the discharge of the principal
and interest, and the whole funds of the Civil List were chargeable for
thirty-two years for 35,000_l. per annum_.

To shew the difference between past and present methods, it may be
worth while to insert a modern scheme.

"State Lottery begins drawing October 13, 1806, containing more Capital
Prizes, and 5000 less Tickets, than last Lottery. The first drawn
Ticket entitled to 10,000_l._; all other Capital Prizes are afloat.
Purchasers of Tickets and Shares will have the opportunity of obtaining
all the Capital Prizes, provided they purchase before the drawing
commences. The Scheme has equal advantages of 20,000_l._ Prizes,
10,000_l._ Prizes, 5,000_l._ Prizes, &c. &c. to former Lotteries of
double the number of Tickets.

No. of Prizes. Value of each: Total Value.
3 of £.20,000 are £.60,000
3 10,000 30,000
3 5,000 15,000
5 1,000 5,000
8 500 4,000
20 100 2,000
40 50 2,000
4,100 20 82,000
------ ---------
20,000 Tickets. £.200,000

20,000 Tickets only, and no other State Lottery to be drawn this year."

BENEFIT SOCIETIES, &C.

The first mention of any thing of this kind I have met with is in
the year 1708, under the name of the "Taylors' Friendly Society" for
insuring the lives of Adults and Children male and female; which was
held at the Cross Keys, Wych-street; and the Trustees met twice in
each month, when 1500 persons had subscribed 5_s._ each, including
policies, stamps, entrance, and first claim; and continued their
payments three years. They became entitled to relief in case of illness
or poverty, and their Executors after death to 200_l._ Another Society
was connected with it, and termed the "Amicable Society," the terms
5_s._ 6_d._ and 2_s. per_ quarter; for which relief was afforded, and
120_l._ paid at the decease of the Subscriber.

Another, called "The Fortunate Office," was intended to provide
marriage-portions for the Subscribers, who paid 2_s. per_ quarter for
their tickets.

A sort of Tontine had its origin in 1709 under the name of "The Lucky
Seventy, or the longest livers take all." It was declared to issue out
of the Annuities granted or to be granted by Parliament for the term of
99 years; the sum subscribed 10_l._ or as many tens as the Subscriber
chose. The income was immediate, tax free, and payable half-yearly
during the lives of their respective nominees. The office was held at
Haberdashers Hall.

An office was opened in Theobald-road, 1710, which, if really
answerable to the statement announcing it, promised great benefit to
the lower classes of the community; and was highly honourable to the
dignified Clergy, eminent Physicians, Surgeons, and Counsellors at Law,
who founded and supported it. Those persons, taking into consideration
the difficulty the poor laboured under of procuring medical and
surgical assistance and legal advice, offered to afford prescriptions
and opinions for one shilling on delivering a case, and one other
shilling at receiving the answer, which payments they declared would be
applied only to the actual expences of the office.

The success of these schemes sharpened the invention of the thrifty;
and immediately almost every street in London abounded with Insurance
offices, where policies for infants three months old might be obtained
for short periods. From those they diverged into other ages and various
descriptions of persons. Their reign, however, appears to have been
but short; as I meet with very few advertisements of the kind in 1712.
One specimen may be worth preserving: "By the United Friendly and
Perpetual Society, at the Naked Boy, the corner of Battle-bridge, in
Tooley-street, Southwark, on Thursday the 25th instant, will be opened
two offices on Marriages for three months, on Claims two, upon Births
for two months, and two on Servants for three months on dividends."
Another will verify the "Wisdom of Nations" in the adage of "Set a
Thief, &c.:" indeed, the Gentleman writer lets us into the whole secret
at once.

"From the _antient_ and _most reputable_ sale of Alphabetical Letters
at the Golden Ball in Whalebone-court, Lothbury, fronting the end
of Bartholomew-lane: Whereas several as well _impudent_ as ignorant
pretenders have of late erected offices of various methods, and under
several denominations, proposing such prodigious profits, in making
so many several returns of _cent. per cent._ for each principal sum
paid into them, that it is even _miraculous_ to those of the greatest
capacities in these undertakings how or with what _assurance_ they
could ever pretend to publish the same; but now it is presumed every
one who has any _concerns_ in matters of this kind are thoroughly
sensible of the difference between _honest_ and well-regulated schemes
(_as this is_) and those _chimerical_ ones which are only set up on
purpose to be a glittering show of profit, where the end fails of the
expectation. The failures of some of this kind, and the probability
of _all_ such methods taking the same course, _has been the only
motive_ of publishing this; the proposer hereof not having advertised
in print these eight months, though his sale has been of nine months
standing, and has paid for re-bought letters to his subscribers out
of the same upwards of 29,600_l._ never paying less than double for
_all_ money paid in, and that in a very short time. Proposals may be
had _gratis_ at the _Sale_ aforesaid, _all_ the books being now open
for subscriptions. And on Thursday the 22d instant will be opened a
subscription-book, where any person may subscribe _what sum he or they
please_, and receive the _principal and profit_ entire in three months,
proposals of which will be delivered out the same day. This book is
of the same nature with our other books; only in this, whatever sum
is subscribed must be paid down with 12_d._ for each pound entrance,
whereas in the other the money is paid weekly, which is a great trouble
to those who cannot spare so much time."

I think I may congratulate my fellow-citizens on the improvement in our
morals after their perusal of the following modest production:

"Observe well this Advertisement,

Which comes from the old and original Sale of the Queen's picture
(_Qu._ the Guinea), the very next house to the George Inn,
Coleman-street, London. There having been of late great discourse about
offices, _and I cannot but say great reason to suspect their honesty_
(_some not designing any_), and others who knew not how to be honest,
_being they wanted experience_, which business requires a regular
method to be observed, occasions me to satisfy the world that the
sale of the Queen's picture has been maintained this three quarters
of a year, the payment every Saturday paid honourably and justly,
which thousands can testify, and which is a plain demonstration of its
continuance; _good payments being the only security_ in these cases.
I have all along acquainted every single person concerned that I will
maintain it as long _as it is possible_ to be preserved; _whenever it
decays_, I have promised them all from the very beginning to summon all
my purchasers together, and _to distribute what is left_ among them.
This method I have taken; and I defy _any one to say it is unjust_, and
I will surely perform it. Pray take good notice we begin this present
Thursday to enter again, and shall continue until Saturday the 7th of
June. On that day we shall also pay above 500_l._"

One of the schemes which preceded the Bubbles of 1720 was an
Insurance-office for Lottery-tickets, opened at Mercers'-hall; and
120,000_l._ was actually subscribed on the following terms: for every
ninety-six tickets insured the proprietors agreed to allow to the
Company (after the tickets were drawn) 16_s. per_ ticket, and 5
_per cent._ on such prizes as occurred to the ninety-six tickets, the
Company returning the tickets, and in case the prizes did not amount to
288_l._ valuing the prizes at _par_; the Company to make up the money
3_l._ for every ticket. For every forty-eight tickets the proprietors
agreed to allow 19_s. per_ ticket, and 5 _per cent._ on the prizes as
above; the Company making up the tickets 144_l._ or 3_l. per_ ticket,
and so on down to twelve tickets. The proprietors of the tickets to
advance no money for this security; but, when drawn, to allow as above;
the tickets to be deposited with the Company, and placed by them under
seal in the Bank of England; if not called for in ninety days after the
drawing, to be forfeited.

We have at length reduced these schemes to a few honourable
Insurance-offices for Lives and Property; and Benefit Societies have
been sanctioned by the Legislature.

CHAP. VI.

THE RELIGIOUS AND POLITICAL PASSIONS OF THE COMMUNITY
ILLUSTRATED BY ANECDOTES OF POPULAR TUMULTS.

The first violent effervescence of party after the year 1700 originated
from the intemperance of certain Sectaries, who omitted no opportunity
of attacking the Established Church; one of the members of which,
Sacheverell, equally intemperate, contrived to raise the Demon of
Discord throughout the Nation by Sermons calculated to make all good
Churchmen detest him. In these half religious, half political contests,
the populace uniformly arrange themselves on the side of Liberty--that
Liberty which prompts them to assume the reins of Justice, and to
dispense it according to the best of their shallow judgments; but their
whips are firebrands, and indiscriminate destruction is substituted for
the terrors of the Law; _their_ Culprits are seized at the instigation
of some infamous leader, and punishment is inflicted before passion
subsides. While Sacheverell's trial was depending in 1709-10, the
many-headed monster of this monstrous Metropolis thought proper to
pronounce sentence on the harmless wainscot, pews, and other woodwork
of Mr. Burgess's Meeting, near Lincoln's-inn-fields, whither they
were conveyed and burnt. When this wicked exploit was accomplished,
and they had contrived to kill a young man in their undistinguishing
fury, they proceeded to Fetter and Leather lanes, and several other
places in which Meetings were situated; and would probably have
committed incredible mischief, had not the Queen's guards dispersed
them, and seized several of the ringleaders; one of whom was tried
and condemned, but afterwards reprieved. Some of those infatuated men
stopped coaches in the streets, to demand money of the passengers, to
drink Sacheverell's health; which occasioned an official communication
from the Queen to the Lord Mayor. Her Majesty declared her knowledge
of the riots, bonfires, illuminations, the assaults and stoppage of
coaches to demand money, in opposition to her Proclamation, and in
contempt of the proceedings of the High Court of Parliament; and that
she was credibly informed that great part of those lawless proceedings
were committed through the culpable inactivity of the Magistracy;
at which she expressed great displeasure; and concluded by charging
the Mayor and City Officers, at their peril, to apprehend all persons
exciting tumults and hawking seditious papers through the streets
for sale. To the above letter the Corporation addressed an humble
answer, observing that the insolent attacks on the Constitution and
Her Majesty's Prerogative, by the publication of books and pamphlets
intended to infuse Republican tenets in the minds of her subjects, had
roused them to a consideration of their fatal tendency; they therefore
declared their detestation of such doctrines, their determination to
support the Protestant succession, and, in obedience to her commands,
to suppress all riotous assemblies, and to oppose with undaunted vigour
all attempts to disturb the peace of her reign, or the serenity of her
Royal mind, at home and abroad.

The Queen addressed a similar complaint to the Magistrates of
Middlesex; and received assurances of support from them, those of
Westminster, and the Lieutenancy of London.

_After these professions_ of prevention, riots occurred on the 14th of
October, 1710, with the watch-word of "Sacheverell and High Church;"
and the mob beat off the Constables with brands from the numerous
bonfires they had lighted.

The month of November teemed with the seeds of riot; but the vigilance
of Government was then excited, and secret means employed to discover
those preparatives by which the mob were to be set in motion. Some of
the emissaries employed on this occasion gave information that a house
near Drury-lane contained certain effigies, intended to represent the
Pope, the Pretender, and the Devil; this trio were accompanied by
four Cardinals, four Jesuits, and four Monks, who were to have been
exhibited in due state on the evening of November 17, the anniversary
of Queen Elizabeth's accession, and then burnt, in testimony of the
abhorrence entertained against the Head of the Roman Catholic faith,
his engine for establishing it again in England, and his Majesty of
the Infernal regions, together with the inferior instruments of the
dissemination of his doctrines. Thus informed, Government preferred
opposing _such_ public support of _their_ cause, and wisely intimated
by their conduct that they were willing to rest it on the conscience
of each individual of the community, rather than terrify _wavering_
Protestants into their measures: in consequence, they issued orders
to seize the figures; which being promptly obeyed, the Messengers and
guards conveyed them in safety to the Earl of Dartmouth's office, by
whose means the sentence of the mob was probably more _privately_
performed, and the evening passed away without any particular
occurrence. This event was eagerly seized upon by the partizans of
the day; those of Government discovering in it the _stamina_ of a
thousand horrors intended to involve the Roman Catholicks and the
Established Church in one grand ruin; those of the Antimonarchical side
deeming the intended procession a mere common occurrence, occasionally
resorted to by the populace with the best motives. By _us_, who have
known the infernal proceedings accompanying the cry of "No Popery,"
riots of any kind must be dreaded; and we cannot but approve the
vigilance of the then Government in terminating the existence of an
expiring habit, whose vigorous movements were marked in the following
disgusting "Account of the burning the Pope at Temple-bar in London,
the 17th of November 1679;" an account that compels us to hail with
ten-fold reverence the auspicious Revolution of 1688, that defined
the boundaries of the Sovereign's and the People's right. At the
present period, praised be Heaven! a _Jury_ of twelve men would make
the instigators of such a procession tremble: and every Protestant
in the City would fly from it with indignation; and yet with all our
modern mildness the faith in question gains no proselytes:--a memorable
_memento_ of the liberality of the age[15:A]!

"Upon the 17th of November the bells began to ring about
three o'clock in the morning in the City of London; and
several _honourable_ and _worthy_ gentlemen belonging to the
Temple as well as the City, (remembering the burning both
of London and the Temple, which was apparently executed by
Popish villainy[16:A]) were pleased to be at the charge of
an extraordinary triumph, in commemoration of that blessed
Protestant Queen, which was as follows: In the evening of the
said day, all things being prepared, the _solemn_ procession
began from Moorgate, and so to Bishopsgate-street, and down
Hounsditch to Aldgate, through Leadenhall-street, Cornhill,
by the Royal Exchange, through Cheapside, to Temple-bar, in
order following.

1st. Marched six whifflers, in pioneers' caps and
red waistcoats.

2. A bellman, ringing his bell, and with a
_dolesome_ voice crying all the way "Remember
Justice Godfrey."

3. A _dead body_, representing Justice Godfrey in
the habit he usually wore, and the cravat wherewith
he was murdered about his neck, _with spots of
blood_ on his wrists, breast, and shirt, and white
gloves on his hands, his face pale and wan, riding
upon a white horse, and one of his murderers behind
him to keep him from falling, in the same manner as
he was carried to Primrose-hill.

4. A Priest came next, in a surplice and a cope
embroidered _with dead men's sculls_ and bones and
_skeletons_, who gave out pardons very plentifully
to all that would murder Protestants, and
proclaiming it meritorious.

5. A Priest alone, with a large silver cross.

6. Four Carmelite Friars, in white and black habits.

7. Four Grey Friars, in their proper habits.

8. Six Jesuits, carrying _bloody daggers_.

9. Four wind-musick, called the waits, playing all
the way.

10. Four Bishops, in purple, with _lawn_ sleeves,
and golden crosses on their breasts, and crosiers
in their hands.

11. Four other Bishops, in their _pontificalibus_,
with _surplices_ and rich-embroidered copes, and
golden mitres on their heads.

12. Six Cardinals, in scarlet robes and caps.

13. Then followed the Pope's chief Physician, with
Jesuits powder in one hand and an _urinal_ in the
other.

14. Two Priests in surplices, with two golden
crosses.

"Lastly, the Pope, in a glorious pageant or chair of state,
covered with scarlet; the chair being richly embroidered and
bedecked with golden balls and crosses. At his feet was a
cushion of state; and two boys sat on each side the Pope in
surplices, with white silk banners painted with red crosses
and _bloody consecrated daggers_ for murdering Protestant
kings and princes, with an incense-pot before them censing
his Holiness. The Pope was arrayed in a rich scarlet gown
lined through with ermines and adorned with gold and silver
lace, with a triple-crown on his head, and a glorious collar
of gold and precious stones about his neck, and St. Peter's
keys, a great quantity of beads, _Agnus Dei's_, and other
Catholic trumpery about him. At his back stood the _Devil_,
his Holiness's privy-counsel, hugging and whispering him
all the way, and often instructing him aloud to destroy his
Majesty, to contrive a pretended Presbyterian plot, and to
fire the City again; to which purpose he held an infernal
torch in his hand. The whole procession was attended with
150 torches and flambeaus by order; but there were so
many came in volunteers as made the number to be several
thousands. Never were the balconies, windows, and houses
more filled, nor the streets more thronged, with multitudes
of people, all expressing their abhorrence of Popery with
_continual shouts and acclamations_; so that in the whole
progress of their procession by a modest computation it is
judged there could be no less than 200,000 spectators.

"Thus with a slow and solemn state in some hours they arrived
at Temple-bar, where all the houses seemed to be converted
into heaps of men, women, and children, who were diverted
with variety of excellent fire-works. It is known that
Temple-bar since its rebuilding is adorned with four stately
statues of Stone, two on each side the Gate; those towards
the City representing Queen Elizabeth and King James, and the
other two towards the Strand King Charles I. and King Charles
II.: now, in regard of the day, the statue of Queen Elizabeth
was adorned with a crown of gilded laurel on her head, and in
her hand, a golden shield with this motto inscribed thereon,
"The Protestant Religion, Magna Charta." Several lighted
torches were placed before her, and the Pope brought up near
the gate.

"Having entertained the thronging spectators for some time
with ingenious fire-works, a very great bonfire was prepared
at the Inner Temple-gate; and his Holiness, after some
compliments and reluctances, was decently tumbled into the
flames; the _Devil_ who till then accompanied him left him in
the lurch, and, laughing, gave him up to his deserved fate.
This last act of his Holiness's tragedy was attended with a
prodigious shout of the joyful spectators. The same evening
there were bonfires in most streets of London, and universal
acclamations, crying, "Let Popery perish, and Papists with
their plots and counter-plots be for ever confounded. _Amen._"

_Protestant Postboy, Nov. 20, 1711._

The brutal ferocity of the scenes just described appeared in a more
matured state in the acts of an inconsiderable part of the populace
in 1712: indeed, had their numbers or their courage equalled the
fiend-like qualities of their souls, the consequences must have been
dreadful to the publick. Fortunately, however, there were but fifty
_Mohawks_, and their cowardice made them an easy prey to justice;
but not before they had committed the most unheard-of excesses, of
which the wounds they inflicted with their swords on the peaceable
passenger of the streets at night were the least. They treated women
in a manner too brutal for a man of the least spirit to repeat, and
their exploits were marked in every other respect with the violation
of decency: Modesty and Innocence became their victims, Impudence and
Lasciviousness they patronized and protected. The Queen issued a
Proclamation on this hateful occasion pregnant with just resentment,
and offered a reward of 100_l._ for the apprehension of any of the
offenders. The Gazette of March 18, 1711, mentions that Sir William
Thomas, Bart. had been apprehended (who was accompanied by two men then
unknown) for assaulting a gentleman in St. James's Park between nine
and ten at night on the 15th, and calls on the injured person to appear
in evidence before the Secretary of State: but whether the charge
applies to the above outrages is not discoverable from the notice.
April 19 following the Gazette mentions seven men and seven women who
had been assaulted.

At the Quarterly Sessions of that period the Justices had received
orders to put the law in force against Vice and Immorality; and in
consequence of a petition from the inhabitants of Covent-garden,
complaining of the indecency and riots of the loose women and their
male followers in the vicinity of the Theatre, they issued warrants for
their apprehension. The execution of those were violently opposed; and
the Justices were compelled to state to the Privy Council and the Lord
Lieutenant of Middlesex, that the Constables were dreadfully maimed,
and one mortally wounded by Ruffians aided by 40 Soldiers of the
guards, who entered into a combination to protect the women.

In May, Lord Inchinbroke, Sir Mark Cole, and some others, were found
guilty on the charge of being principals in some or other of the above
vile proceedings. After having complimented Government on the propriety
of preventing the populace from publicly burning effigies, it would be
injustice to the latter not to acknowledge they might have pleaded high
authority for doing it. On the 5th of November 1712, the Queen's guards
made a bonfire before the gates of St. James's Palace; into which the
Pretender's effigy was thrown and shot at. Such is Human Nature! The
Lord Mayor appears, however, to have done his duty, by requesting his
fellow citizens to keep at home on the night of the anniversary of
Elizabeth's accession.

One of the oddest occurrences I have yet met with under this head was
a political contest between the Whig and Tory Footmen, who served the
Members of the House of Commons. These worthy patriots had inviolably
observed a custom, for many years previous to 1715, of imitating their
masters in the choice of a Speaker, modestly conceiving themselves a
deliberative body. Now, as the parties happened at this period to be
nearly balanced, much animosity naturally ensued; and, not possessing
the forbearance of their superiors, they had recourse to active
hostilities, and severely beat each other, till the rising of the House
compelled them to desist; but, on the following Monday, the battle was
renewed, and the Tories having gained the day by dint of blows, they
carried their Speaker three times round Westminster-hall, and then,
in pursuance of antient usage, they adjourned to a good dinner at an
adjacent alehouse, and to expend their crown each in toasting their
success.

The accession of George I. was celebrated, in the month of July of
the same year, in the customary manner by the peaceable part of the
community; but the more violent assembled, to the amount of several
hundreds, at the Roebuck Tavern, Cheapside, where they burnt the
effigies of the Pretender habited in mourning before the door,
accompanied by a peal from Bow bells; and the populace were plentifully
supplied with liquor. The same persons, joined by many young men and
apprentices, busily employed themselves between the above date and
October 22, the anniversary of the King's coronation, in preparing the
effigies of the old Triumvirate for the same fate; but the Jacobin
interest, then in full effervescence, contrived to drop printed bills,
and to insinuate that those loyal persons meant to burn the effigies
of the late Queen and Dr. Sacheverell. To repel such ideas, the Loyal
Society deputed their Stewards to the Lord Mayor with a relation of
their real intention, who forbid a procession, but permitted them
to consume the effigies where they pleased. Thus privileged, they
adorned their hats with cockades of white and orange, and sallied
forth with effigies of the Pope, the Pretender, the Earl of Man, the
Duke of Ormond, and Lord Bolingbroke, accompanied by link-bearers,
and precipitated them into a fire near Bow-church. Hence they went to
Lincoln's-Inn-fields, and assisted at the hateful orgies of the same
description ordered by the foolish Duke of Newcastle, whose power
ought to have been exerted in a far different way, as the sequel will
shew. The Jacobites, full of rage and disappointment, trod on their
kibes, but were afraid to commit open violence. These processions
and burnings were repeated again on King William's anniversary, and
on the 5th of November; and, had the subject been less serious, the
exhibition of the _warming-pan_ and sucking bottle might have excited
a smile. Some slight opposition occurred on these evenings; but the
Loyal Society of the Roebuck routed the Jacobites on all sides. The
day of the inauguration of Queen Elizabeth, November 17, shews the
folly and wickedness of suffering the populace to exercise their
brutal celebrations uncontrouled. The Loyal Society met at their usual
rendezvous in Cheapside, whence they sent a deputation to examine a
house near Aldersgate, where certain effigies were placed under the
guard of a man with a hanger, said to be those of Cromwell, Ireton,
Bradshaw, and Dr. Burnet, which the Jacobites intended to burn that
evening. However, upon viewing the harmless figures, they were found
to be the representatives of George I. King William, Marlborough,
Newcastle, and Dr. Burnet. The Deputies immediately seized them, and
proceeded without opposition and no little triumph to the Roebuck. At
8 o'clock in the evening shouts of High Church and Ormond, &c. &c.
announced the approach of the Pretender's friends, who poured into
Cheapside from the neighbouring streets, proclaiming their intention
of tearing the house to pieces. The attack commenced with stones and
bricks, which soon demolished the windows; they then prepared for the
assault; but the Loyal Society, thinking to terrify them, fired with
powder only. The Jacobites, perceiving they had sustained no injury,
renewed the attack, when a second volley, accompanied by ball, laid two
of them dead on the pavement, and wounded several others. _Then_ the
Mayor made his appearance with the _posse comitatus_, and the Jacobites
fled. Thus the Tragedy proceeded scene after scene; and in which way
were either party benefited by the catastrophe? Rioters acting with a
majority are like the officious bear who flattened his friend's nose in
order to kill a fly that teased him; those on the side of a minority
can expect nothing but disgrace and hanging: a well-ordered government
should therefore suppress the turbulence of both. Another attempt was
subsequently made upon the Roebuck, but the Trained Bands prevented
the accomplishment of its demolition. The Coroner's Jury returned a
verdict of justifiable homicide on the two bodies.

During the rebellious year 1716 there were many violations of public
decorum, which, if not really dangerous to lives and property, were
alarming and extremely offensive to the quiet Citizens. One of those
was the exploding a train of powder and nauseous combustibles within
Shower's Dissenting Meeting in the Old Jewry in the midst of an
evening service. The sudden flash, the smoke, and suffocation, put the
audience into a most violent ferment; and the attempts on all sides to
escape occasioned the only injury done by this stupid contrivance of a
mischievous partisan, who probably congratulated himself on observing
broken pews, bruised bodies, scattered shoes, wigs, scarves, and
watches; a chaos begun and ended in smoke.

The anniversary celebrations which were usually accompanied by
conviviality and pleasure seem in this turbulent year to have been
authorised days for riot, fighting, and disorder, or stated times for
the display of brutal courage. Were the circumstances more congenial
to humanity, many instances might be given. The very focus of those
mischiefs were the various _mug_-houses, as they were politely termed,
or in other words Club-taverns. That of Salisbury-court was regularly
assaulted in July, and the leader, a Bridewell apprentice, was shot
by the Master of the House, for which he was tried and acquitted;
but five of the rioters were executed. The members of the Roebuck
mug-house carried their loyalty into the street on the first of August,
where they had an enormous bonfire, and a table near it, when they
drank their glasses of wine, and pronounced healths, accompanied by
the brazen lungs of the trumpet. Several of those gentlemen having
heard that the Jacobites held religious meetings in various parts
of the town, where they prayed for their lawful King without naming
him, determined to distribute some of their numbers in each, and when
the proper time arrived they exclaimed King George and their Royal
Highnesses, &c.: to which others added Amen. This expedient served
to confound if not to convince; but neither lenity nor punishment
operated with the fiery Jacobites, who dared to bury two of the above
rioters with grand funeral honours in September, and would have made a
procession of young persons in pairs habited as mourners to pass every
mug-house in the City, had not the officers of the Police interfered
and apprehended several.

The gentry of the Roebuck attracted public notice on the King's return
from one of his excursions to Hanover, by a fresh exhibition of
obnoxious effigies, which they had prepared some time before, and shown
for two-pence each person. Those were dragged about till the thousand
links that attended them were almost consumed, the persons who rode as
Highland prisoners jaded, and the Man in armour who represented the
King's champion sufficiently cooled (for it was January, good reader),
when they halted at Charing-cross, and committed the inanimate part
of the procession to the flames. As this folly was protected by three
files of soldiers, the Jacobites remained _perdu_.

The months of May and June 1717 were war-like periods in Westminster,
and marked by furious battles between the butchers of St. James's
market and the footmen and valets of the same courtly City. After
several actions the footmen solicited and obtained the assistance
of the Bridewell-boys; to balance this accession of strength, the
fraternities of Westminster, Clare, and Bloomsbury-markets were
summoned, and joined the St. James's.

The Roebuck Society seem to have been exhausted by their exertions in
the latter end of 1717, and determined to decline active hostility
against the Jacobites; but I find them subsequently roused, and the
assailants in a pitched battle and siege of Newgate-market. One of
them describes the Society in the following lines--a paraphrase from
Martial, lib. xiii. Ep. c.

"As Deer upon the rocks where Dogs can't go
Look down, and vex the noisy pack below,
So stands our Roebuck far above the spite
Of ill-look'd curs that growl but cannot bite;
And if they yelp against our Sun at noon,
'Tis but like puppies barking at the Moon."

The Nonjurors, unwilling to resign their pretensions and the Pretender,
continued their secret meetings. Government, however, appears to have
used summary measures with them. Mr. Hawes's meeting opposite St.
James's was stormed in October 1717 by two Justices, two of the King's
messengers, and a guard of soldiers, when an hundred persons were found
within, to whom the Justices tendered the oaths; five accepted them,
but the rest refused, and were dismissed after being compelled to
declare their names and residences: the preacher escaped. Dr. Welton,
the ejected or Nonjuring rector of St. Mary's Whitechapel, held the
same kind of assemblies at his house in Goodman's-fields, which was
visited in the same manner; but the Doctor thinking proper to resist,
the door was broken open, and about 200 persons were discovered, all
of whom except 40 refused the oaths. The Doctor not only rejected
the oath, but acknowledged he did not pray for the Royal family. His
escapes for a long time after furnished matter for paragraphs in the
newspapers.

The year 1718 closed with a faint revival of the turbulence of party.
In this instance the Bridewell-boys acted with hardened effrontery and
violence against the Loyalists. This period produced the long-required
interference of the Civil Power to prevent the Roebuck processions;
but this happy event was succeeded by the unjustifiable conduct of
the Spital-fields weavers, who were injured by the too common use of
foreign calicoes. These indiscreet persons, instead of applying for
redress to the Legislature, proceeded to terrify the wearers into a
compliance with their wishes, by throwing pernicious liquids on the
gowns of females, and tearing them from their backs in the most brutal
manner. The Police were compelled to interfere; but to little purpose,
till they were fired upon, and several killed and wounded, and others
committed to prison, whence some were conveyed corpses through the
raging of a Gaol fever, and others to the Pillory; but it was a long
time before the effervescence was allayed, and a paper war exhausted.

London was remarkably quiet from the above period till November 1724;
but that year produced a thief that seemed calculated to perform
successfully every scheme of desperation. He enjoyed a limited sway,
and during the time he was at large the publick were in constant
apprehension. Sheppard finished his career at Tyburn in the midst of
an incredible number of spectators; and their conduct occasions this
notice of him. The Sheriff's-officers, aware of the person they had to
contend with, thought it prudent to secure his hands on the morning
of execution. This innovation produced the most violent resistance on
Sheppard's part; and the operation was performed by force. They then
proceeded to search him, and had reason to applaud their vigilance,
for he had contrived to conceal a penknife in some part of his dress.
The ceremony of his departure from our world passed without disorder;
but, the instant the time expired for the suspension of the body, an
undertaker, who had followed by his friends' desire with a hearse and
attendants, would have conveyed it to St. Sepulchre's church-yard for
interment; but the mob, conceiving that Surgeons had employed this
unfortunate man, proceeded to demolish the vehicle, and attack the
sable dependants, who escaped with difficulty. They then seized the
body, and in the brutal manner common to those wretches beat it from
each to the other till it was covered with bruises and dirt, and till
they reached Long-acre, where they deposited the miserable remains at
a public-house called the Barley-mow. After it had rested there a few
hours the populace entered into an enquiry why they had contributed
their assistance in bringing Sheppard to Long-acre; when they
discovered they were duped by a bailiff, who was actually employed by
the Surgeons; and that they had taken the corpse from a person really
intending to bury it. The elucidation of their error exasperated them
almost to phrensy, and a riot immediately commenced, which threatened
the most serious consequences. The inhabitants applied to the Police,
and several Magistrates attending, they were immediately convinced the
civil power was insufficient to resist the torrent of malice ready to
burst forth in acts of violence. They therefore sent to the Prince
of Wales and the Savoy, requesting detachments of the guards; who
arriving, the ringleaders were secured, the body was given to a person,
a friend of Sheppard, and the mob dispersed to attend it to the grave
at St. Martin's in the Fields, where it was deposited in an elm coffin,
at ten o'clock the same night, under a guard of Soldiers, and with the
ceremonies of the church.

The Weekly Journal of November 21, 1724, gives a brief abstract of
Sheppard's life, published at the time, which may amuse the reader.

"An Abridgement of the Life, Robberies, Escapes, and Death,
of John Sheppard, who was executed at Tyburn on Monday the
16th instant, 1724.

"The celebrated Jack Sheppard, whose eminence in his
profession rendered him the object of every body's curiosity,
having made his exit on Monday last at Tyburn, in a manner
suitable to his extraordinary merits, we hope a short summary
of his most remarkable performances, before and since his
repeated escapes out of Newgate, together with his behaviour
at the place of execution, will not be a disagreeable
entertainment to our readers.

"He was born in 1701, and put apprentice by the charitable
interposition of Mr. Kneebone, whom he afterwards robbed, to
one Mr. Owen Wood, a Carpenter, in Drury-lane. Before his
time was out he took to keep company with one Elizabeth Lyon,
who proved his ruin: of her he gave this character. That
'there is not a more wicked, deceitful, lascivious wretch
living in England.' The first robbery he ever committed was
of two silver spoons at the Rummer-tavern, Charing-cross.
He owned several other robberies, particularly that of Mr.
Pargiter in Hampstead, for which the two Brightwells were
tried and acquitted; in relation to which he often said
jocosely, 'Little I was that large lusty man that plucked
him from the ditch,' as Pargiter had deposed at Brightwell's
trial. He was long comrade with Blueskin, lately executed,
who, according to the account Sheppard gave of him, was 'a
worthless companion, a sorry thief, and that nothing but his
attempt on Jonathan Wild could have made him taken notice
of:' afterwards he broke out of St. Giles's round-house,
throwing a whole load of bricks, &c. on the people in the
street who stood looking at him, and made his escape. After
this he broke out of New Prison; then out of the condemned
hold in Newgate; but his last escape from Newgate having made
the greatest noise, we shall insert the following particulars.

"Thursday, October the 15th, just before three in the
afternoon, he went to work, taking off first his handcuffs;
next with main strength he twisted a small iron link of the
chain between his legs asunder; and the broken pieces proved
extremely useful to him in his design; the fetlocks he drew
up to the calves of his legs, taking off before that his
stockings, and with his garters made them firm to his body,
to prevent their shackling: he then proceeded to make a hole
in the chimney of the Castle about three feet wide, and six
feet high from the floor, and with the help of the broken
links aforesaid, wrenched an iron bar out of the chimney,
of about two foot and half in length, and an inch square; a
most notable implement. He immediately entered the Red room,
which is directly over the Castle, and went to work upon the
nut of the lock, and with little difficulty got it off, and
made the door fly before him; in this room he found a large
nail, which proved of great use in his farther progress.
The door of the entry between the Red room and the Chapel
proved an hard task, it being a laborious piece of work; for
here he was forced to break away the wall, and dislodge the
bolt which was fastened on the other side: this occasioned
much noise, and he was very fearful of being heard by the
master-side debtors. Being got to the Chapel, he climbed over
the iron spikes, with ease broke one of them off, and opened
the door on the inside: the door going out of the Chapel to
the leads, he stripped the nut from off the lock, and then
got into the entry between the Chapel and the leads, and
came to another strong door, which being fastened by a very
strong lock, he had like to have stopped, and it being full
dark, his spirits began to fail him, as greatly doubting of
success; but cheering up, he wrought on with great diligence,
and in less than half an hour, with the main help of the nail
from the Red room, and the spike from the Chapel, wrenched
the Box off, and so was master of the door. A little farther
in his passage another stout door stood in his way; and this
was a difficulty with a witness; being guarded with more
bolts, bars, and locks, than any he had hitherto met with:
the chimes at St. Sepulchre's were then going the eighth
hour: he went first upon the box and the nut, but found it
labour in vain; he then proceeded to attack the fillet of
the door; this succeeded beyond expectation, for the box of
the lock coming off with it from the main post, he found his
work was near finished. He was got to a door opening in the
lower leads, which being only bolted on the inside, he opened
it with ease, and then clambered from the top of it to the
higher leads, and went over the wall. He saw the streets
were lighted, the shops being still open, and therefore
began to consider what was necessary to be further done. He
found he must go back for the blanket which had been his
covering a-nights in the Castle, which he accordingly did,
and endeavoured to fasten his stockings and that together, to
lessen his descent, but wanted necessaries, and was therefore
forced to make use of the blanket alone: he fixed the same
with the Chapel spike into the wall of Newgate, and dropped
from it on the Turner's leads, a house adjoining the prison;
it was then about nine of the clock, and the shops not yet
shut in. It fortunately happened, that the garret door on
the leads was open. He stole softly down about two pair of
stairs, and then heard company talking in a room, the door
being open. His irons gave a small clink, which made a woman
cry, 'Lord! what noise is that?' A man replied, 'Perhaps
the dog or cat;' and so it went off. He returned up to the
garret, and laid himself down, being terribly fatigued; and
continued there for about two hours, and then crept down
once more to the room where the company were, and heard a
gentleman take his leave, who being lighted down stairs,
the maid, when she returned, shut the chamber door: he then
resolved at all hazards to follow, and slip down stairs; he
was instantly in the entry, and out at the street-door, and
once more contrary to his own expectation, and that of all
mankind, a free man.

"He passed directly by St. Sepulchre's watch-house, bidding
them good-morrow, it being after twelve, and down Snow-hill,
up Holborn, leaving St. Andrew's watch on his left, and then
again passed the watch-house at Holborn-bars, and made down
Gray's-Inn-lane into the fields, and at two in the morning
came to Tottenham-court, where getting into an old house in
the fields, he laid himself down to rest, and slept well for
three hours. His legs were swelled and bruised intolerably,
which gave him great uneasiness; and having his fetters
still on, he dreaded the approach of the day. He began to
examine his pockets, and found himself master of between
forty and fifty shillings. It raining all Friday, he kept
snug in his retreat till the evening, when after dark he
ventured into Tottenham, and got to a little blind chandler's
shop, and there furnished himself with cheese, bread, small
beer, and other necessaries, hiding his irons with a great
coat. He asked the woman for an hammer, but there was none
to be had; so he went very quietly back to his dormitory,
and rested pretty well that night, and continued there all
Saturday. At night he went again to the chandler's shop, and
got provisions, and slept till about six the next day, which
being Sunday, he began to batter the basils of the fetters in
order to beat them into a large oval, and then to slip his
heels through. In the afternoon the master of the shed, or
house, came in, and seeing his irons, asked him, 'For God's
sake, who are you?' He told him, 'an unfortunate young man,
who had been sent to Bridewell about a bastard-child, and
not being able to give security to the Parish, had made his
escape.' The man replied, 'If that was the case it was a
small fault indeed, for he had been guilty of the same things
himself formerly,' and withal said, 'However, he did not like
his looks, and cared not how soon he was gone.'

"After he was gone, observing a poor-looking man like a
Joiner, he made up to him, and repeated the same story,
assuring him that twenty shillings should be at his service,
if he could furnish him with a Smith's hammer, and a
puncheon. The man proved a shoe-maker by trade, but willing
to obtain the reward, immediately borrowed the tools of
a blacksmith his neighbour, and likewise gave him great
assistance, so that before five that evening he had entirely
got rid of his fetters, which he gave to the fellow, besides
his twenty shillings.

"That night he went to a cellar at Charing-cross, and
refreshed very comfortably, where near a dozen people were
all discoursing about Sheppard, and nothing else was talked
on whilst he staid amongst them. He had tied an handkerchief
about his head, tore his woollen cap, coat, and stockings
in many places, and looked exactly like what he designed to
represent, a beggar-fellow; and now concluding that Blueskin
would have certainly been decreed for death, he did fully
resolve and purpose to have gone and cut down the gallows the
night before his execution.

"On Tuesday he hired a garret for his lodging at a poor
house in Newport-market, and sent for a sober young woman,
who for a long time past had been the real mistress of his
affections, who came to him, and rendered all the assistance
she was capable of affording. He made her the messenger to
his mother, who lodged in Clare-street. She likewise visited
him in a day or two after, begging on her bended knees of
him to make the best of his way out of the kingdom, which
he faithfully promised; but could not find in his heart to
perform.

"He was oftentimes in Spital-fields, Drury-lane,
Lewkenor's-lane, Parker's-lane, St. Thomas's-street, &c.
those having been the chief scenes of his rambles and
pleasures.

"At last he came to a resolution of breaking the house of the
two Mr. Rawlins's, brothers and pawnbrokers in Drury-lane,
which he accordingly put in execution, and succeeded; they
both hearing him rifling their goods as they lay in bed
together in the next room. And though there were none others
to assist him, he pretended there was, by loudly giving out
directions for shooting the first person through the head
that presumed to stir, which effectually quieted them, while
he carried off his booty, with part whereof, on the fatal
Saturday following, being the 31st of October, he made an
extraordinary appearance; and from a carpenter and butcher
was now transformed into a gentleman; he went into the
City, and was very merry at a public-house not far from the
place of his old confinement. At four that same afternoon,
he passed under Newgate in a Hackney-coach, the windows
drawn up, and in the evening he sent for his mother to the
Sheers alehouse, in Maypole-alley, near Clare-market, and
with her drank three quarterns of brandy; and after leaving
her drank in one place or other about that neighbourhood
all the evening, till the evil hour of twelve, having been
seen and known by many of his acquaintance; all of them
cautioning him, and wondering at his presumption to appear
in that manner. At length his senses were quite overcome
with the quantities and variety of liquors he had all the
day been drinking, which paved the way for his fate; and
when apprehended, he was altogether incapable of resisting,
scarce knowing what they were doing with him, and had but two
second-hand pistols scarce worth carrying about him.

"From his last re-apprehension to his death some persons
were appointed to be with him constantly day and night; vast
numbers of people came to see him, to the great profit both
of himself and those about him; several persons of quality
came, all of whom he begged to intercede with his Majesty
for mercy, but his repeated _returning to his vomit_ left no
room for it; so that, being brought down to the King's-bench
bar, Westminster, by an _habeas corpus_, and it appearing
by evidence that he was the same person, who, being under a
former sentence of death, had twice made his escape, a rule
of court was made for his execution, which was on Monday
last. The morning he suffered he told a gentleman, that 'he
had then a satisfaction at heart, as if he was going to enjoy
an estate of 200_l._ a year.'"

A tumult of a different description in some particulars, but
originating from an execution, happened in May 1725, when the infamous
Jonathan Wild expiated his numerous offences at Tyburn. The mob in
the former case were willing to have rescued Sheppard, _because he
was a man utterly unfit to be at large_; but they would have torn
Wild to pieces, because he was the means of ridding the publick of
many villains, though one of the blackest die himself. Jonathan Wild
was born at Wolverhampton in 1684, and commenced his active life as
a buckle-maker, whence he migrated to London, where he became in a
short period thief-taker general. In this office his body received a
greater variety of wounds than the hardiest soldier ever exhibited;
his scull actually suffered two fractures; and his throat was scarred
by the erring knife of a wretch hanged by his means, the companion of
Sheppard. That the reader may fully comprehend this man's crimes, I
shall insert an abstract of his indictment.

"That he hath for many years past been a confederate with great numbers
of highwaymen, pick-pockets, house-breakers, &c.

"That he hath formed a kind of corporation of thieves, of which he
is the director; and that his pretended services in detecting and
prosecuting offenders consisted only in bringing those to the gallows
who concealed their booty, or refused to share it with him.

"That he hath divided the town and country into districts, and
appointed distinct gangs for each, who regularly accounted with him
for their robberies. He had also a particular set to steal at churches
in time of Divine service; and also other moving detachments to attend
at Court on birth-days, balls, &c. and upon both Houses of Parliament,
Circuits, and Country Fairs.

"That the persons employed by him were for the most part felons
convict, who have returned from transportation before their due time
was expired; of whom he made choice for his agents, because they could
not be legal evidence against him, and because he had it in his power
to take from them what part of the stolen goods he pleased, and
otherwise abuse or even hang them at his will and pleasure.

"That he hath from time to time supplied such convicted felons with
money and clothes, and lodged them in his own house the better to
conceal them, particularly some against whom there are now informations
for diminishing and counterfeiting broad pieces and guineas.

"That he hath not only been a receiver of stolen goods, as well as of
writings of all kinds, for near fifteen years last past, but frequently
been a confederate, and robbed along with the above-mentioned convicted
felons.

"That, in order to carry on these vile practices, and gain some credit
with the ignorant multitude, he usually carried about him a short
silver staff as a badge of authority from the government, which he used
to produce when he himself was concerned in robbing.

"That he had under his care and direction several warehouses for
receiving and concealing stolen goods, and also a ship for carrying off
jewels, watches, and other valuable goods to Holland, where he has a
superannuated thief for his factor.

"That he kept in pay several artists to make alterations, and transform
watches, seals, snuff-boxes, rings, and other valuable things, that
they might not be known; several of which he used to present to such
as he thought might be of service to him.

"That he seldom helped the owners to lost notes and papers, unless he
found them able to specify and describe them exactly, and then often
insisted on more than half the value.

"That he frequently sold human blood, by procuring false evidence to
swear persons into facts of which they were not guilty; sometimes to
prevent them from being evidences against himself, at other times for
the sake of the great reward given by the government."

This consummate criminal, after dealing so widely and to an enormous
amount, fell a sacrifice to a paltry theft of a little lace stolen
from a window on Holborn-hill, when Wild's usual foresight so far
deserted him as to enable the person he employed while he waited on
the Bridge to turn evidence against him. His execution attracted
the greatest concourse of spectators ever known to have assembled
on a similar occasion; and an incredible number of thieves of every
description attended, to wreak their vengeance on their general enemy.
They shouted incessantly with frantic yells of joy, and threw stones at
the miserable man as he rode, till his head streamed with blood; but,
when he fell from the cart, the air was literally rent by reiterated
cries of triumph. Wild had endeavoured to commit suicide; but the
dose of laudanum intended for the purpose, proving too great, his
stomach rejected it in time to save his life. It, however, rendered him
nearly insensible, and consequently prevented the anguish he must have
experienced in his last moments from the conduct of his enemies and the
brutality of the populace.

Several prosecutions were instituted in 1725, in order to prevent a
shamefully indecent practice of the populace, which was the storming of
hearses and tearing from them the various heraldic ornaments used at
funerals.

A dissolute young man named Gibson, a Mercer, and one of the Society
of friends, occasioned very serious riots in the summer of 1727 by
persisting to preach in defiance of the elders of Gracechurch street
meeting, and indeed of the whole posse of the Police, who were more
than once compelled to convey him by force to St. George's fields,
where he was permitted to hold forth unmolested. Gibson had a mob
constantly surrounding him, which committed many extravagances.

He afterwards rented the London Assurance Coffee-house in Birchin-lane,
before which he erected a sign representing a person extended on his
back with the head bloody and a hat and wig near him. Several persons
supposed to have committed the assault were shewn hiding under bushes.
In another part of the design, the wounded person waded through a
marsh supported by crutches, and a friend assisted him towards a
house on a hill. The other side represented him lying on his face,
and again washing blood and tears from his features; a rising moon in
each painting lighted the scene, under which was inscribed "Gibson
from Gracechurch-street."--The aim of Gibson in this allegory was to
introduce himself to the publick in a pitiable situation, to shew the
Quakers in a disgraceful light as assassins, and to compliment the
friend by whom he was placed in his new house.

The populace had not indulged in their favourite excesses for several
years; but, an opportunity occurring in September 1729, they seized it
with avidity. The King had been to Hanover, and, returning in safety,
a party from Whitechapel chose to express their loyalty by breaking
many hundreds of windows on each side of the way between that place
and Charing-cross, under a pretence that the inhabitants should have
illuminated them. The damage done by these desperadoes is said to have
amounted to more than 1000_l._; and it is remarkable that the King
rode through the same street within an hour after the havock had been
committed; no doubt, infinitely vexed that he was the innocent cause of
so much injury to his peaceable subjects.

The public mind was greatly agitated in 1733 by the introduction of
an Excise bill into the House of Commons, which experienced great
opposition, and was deferred till June in that year. The populace,
highly elated, made effigies of the Minister, burnt them in various
places, and demonstrated their joy by breaking numbers of windows.
This excess was repeated on the anniversary of the above event with
increased violence, when, in addition to breaking the Lord Mayor's
windows, they broke his officers' heads; but several of the ringleaders
were apprehended, and sent to different prisons.

On the 30th of March, 1734, a disgraceful tumult occurred in
Suffolk-street, Charing-cross, occasioned by several young men whose
situation in life ought to have produced far different conduct. They
met at a house in the above street under the denomination of the
Calves-head club, prepared a fire before the door, and after several
indecent orgies appeared at the first-floor windows with wine and a
calf's head dressed in a napkin cap, which they threw into the flames
with loud huzzas. As the populace assembled round the fire were
entertained with plenty of beer, they shouted at many of the toasts
drank by the _Club_; but, some being proposed that interfered with
the Majesty of the People, they were considered as the signal for
attack, which immediately commenced with so much impetuosity as to
render it necessary for the founders of the feast to fly for their
lives. The mob broke all the windows of the house, forcibly entered it,
and demolished every article in their way, to the amount of several
hundred pounds. The royal guards put an end to the tumult. I have a
print, published immediately after the transaction, which faithfully
represents the wickedness and folly of it.

"The Hyp Doctor" observed on this occasion: "It is an honour to the
Dissenters, that we do not hear of one of their body who belonged
to this ingenious and refined cabal. It must not be overlooked,
that if the report be right, the Calves-heads were bought in St.
James's-market; the _double entendre_ was intended to have _wit
prepense_; but methinks the emblem was wrong-_headed_; for how can a
_Calf_, which is a _tame gentle creature_, and _incapable_ of _sin_,
represent a _supposed_ Tyrant, or a bad Monarch? Some of the parties
concerned were, as the chronicles of Suffolk-street record it, sons of
nobles of _England_, _Scotland_, and _Ireland_, besides _Commoners_;
but the transaction was _carried on_, like Io in the _farce_, by a
_Bull_ rather than a _Calf_ (by which it might appear to be more
_Irish_ than _English_), if you examine the criticism of the _Shew_.
It was a sequel to Punch at the masquerade, putting his Opera bills
into the hands of some too great for a familiar mention; but neither
the Haymarket Punch, nor the Suffolk-street Puppet-shew _took_: one
was acted but once, the other was not acted thoroughly the first time:
the _people_ were the _criticks_, the connoisseurs, and corrected the
play. We are now assured it had no _plot_; the _head_ had no _brains_,
like Æsop's masks: this may be true, but no credit to a tragi-comedy:
it only proved they were no _Poets_, and but _indifferent actors_.
Was there none who bore a Calf's-head _couped_, as the Heralds speak,
in his coat of Arms? The device of the escutcheon might be more
_significant_ than that of the _Club_. Such a proceeding might have
been proper in a _slaughter-house_; but, perhaps, they were replenished
with the wisdom of the Egyptians, who worshiped Osiris in _the form of
a Calf_: was it an _Essex_ or a _Middlesex_ Calf?--_Baa_ be the motto
of this speculation. The _Gens Vitellia_, the _Vitellian_ family at
Rome, were denominated from the like. This adds light from the Roman
history."

The next disturbance of the public peace proceeded from the dregs
of the people, who were exasperated beyond measure at the laudable
attempts of their superiors to suppress the excessive use of _Gin_;
and their resentment became so very turbulent in September 1736, that
they even presumed to exclaim in the streets, "No _Gin_ no _King_:"
in consequence, double guards were posted at Kensington, St. James's,
Somerset-house, and the Rolls. Besides these precautions, 500 of
the Grenadier-guards, and the Westminster troop of Horse-militia,
were distributed as patroles, and in Hyde and St. James's Parks,
Covent-garden, &c.

Many satirical and pleasant attacks upon that pernicious liquor
appeared in the diurnal publications; two of which are worth preserving:

"To the dear and regretted memory of the best and most potent of cheap
liquors, _Geneva_; the solace of the hen-pecked husband, the kind
companion of the neglected wife, the infuser of courage in the _tame_
and _standing_ army, the source of the thief's resolution, the support
of pawnbrokers, tally-men, receivers of stolen goods, and a long _et
cetera_ of other honest fraternities, alike useful and glorious to
the Commonwealth. A _Victor_, fuller of fire than Bajazet, and who
destroyed more men than Tamerlane in his numerous conquests. The bane
of chastity, the foe of honesty, the friend of infidelity, the _very
spirit of sedition_, through the inhuman malice of ---- and ----, by
the edge of an Act of Parliament, cut off in her prime September 19,
1736, _anno regni Georgii secundi decimo_. Her constant votary Nicholas
_No-shoes_, in testimony of a friendship subsisting after death, erects
this monument.

"Attend, my Sons, and you, my friends, draw near,
And on my last remain bestow a tear;
Your dear, dear _Punch_, must yield his nect'rous breath,
And ere to-morrow noon submit to death.
No hopes of pardon, no reprieve is nigh,
My death is sign'd: and must I, must I die?
It is resolv'd.--Then rouse your noble souls,
And crown _this_ night with cheerful flowing bowls;
Let none but you, my friends, support my pall,
And bilk those fops who triumph in my fall[51:A]."

Numberless evasions of the Act were practised; and even Apothecaries
were tempted to retail Gin under the specious name of a medicine or
cordial.

The month of July 1736 afforded a singular _popular explosion_,
contrived in the following strange manner. A brown paper parcel,
which had been placed unobserved near the side-bar of the Court of
King's-bench, Westminster-hall, blew up during the solemn proceedings
of the Courts of Justice assembled, and scattered a number of printed
bills, giving notice, that on the last day of Term five Acts of
Parliament would be publicly burnt in the hall, between the hours of
twelve and one, at the Royal Exchange, and at St. Margaret's hill,
which were the Gin Act, the Smuggling Act, the Mortmain Act, the
Westminster Bridge Act, and the Act for borrowing 600,000_l._ on the
Sinking fund.

One of the bills was immediately carried to the Grand Jury then
sitting, who found it an infamous libel, and recommended the offering
of a reward to discover the author.

The labourers and weavers of Spitalfields were infected with a
contagious _mania_ at the same period, which led them to suppose that
numbers of Irishmen had recently arrived in London, for the purpose of
working at under-prices and starving them. Influenced by a species
of despair they assembled in crowds, and proceeded to Brick-lane,
Whitechapel, where they immediately attacked a house supposed to
contain Irishmen, and completely destroyed it, bearing away the
furniture in triumph; but they lost one man, and had several wounded,
by a musket discharged amongst them from the house. The neighbouring
Magistrates, alarmed at this outrage, immediately attended at the scene
of action, and read the Riot Act, but without effect, although the
Tower Hamlet association and a party of the Tower guard were summoned
to their assistance; nor did they desist till a company of Regulars
dispersed them by force.

Several severe combats occurred between the English and Irish in other
parts of the town, in which much mischief was done to each party.
The cause appears to have originated chiefly through the parsimony
of the person who contracted to erect the new church of St. Leonard
Shoreditch, in employing no other than Irish labourers at five or six
shillings a week, when the British demanded twelve shillings. These two
affairs occurring nearly together led government to suspect the authors
of the paper-plot, and the rioters, or at least their leaders, to have
been connected in seditious if not treasonable designs.

An estimate was made in July 1738 of the numbers convicted under the
Act for preventing the excessive use of spirituous liquors. Claims were
entered at the Excise-office by 4000 persons for the 5_l._ allowed
to the informer from the penalty of 100_l._, 4896 such convictions
having taken place. 3000 persons paid 10_l._ each to avoid being sent
to Bridewell; and it was computed that 12,000 informations had been
laid within the bills of mortality only. It is therefore not to be
wondered at that the newspapers frequently mentioned the quiet and
decency observed in the streets subsequent to these convictions; but
in effecting them several informers were killed, and others dreadfully
hurt, by the mob.

It sometimes happens that articles of information are so vaguely
mentioned in the public papers, that, though they might be understood
by their contemporaries, we are at a loss to comprehend them. An
instance of this kind occurred in August 1757, when a number of riotous
persons assembled before the Craven-arms, Southampton-street, with
an intention to level it with the earth, and destroy the goods; but
for what reason the papers are silent. The officers of the Police
attended, but were beat off with stones; and it was two o'clock in the
morning before two serjeants and twenty-four soldiers of the guards
could disperse them; at which hour fourteen were apprehended, several
wounded, and two were afterwards committed to prison. The following
letter was sent on this occasion to Mr. Justice Fielding:

_Christ-church, Surrey, Aug. 13, 1757._

"SIR,

"We beg leave to acquaint you, that the house known by the
sign of the Craven-arms, in Southampton-street, belongs to a
charity in our parish; and we therefore beg the favour of you
to use what methods shall seem right to prevent the populace
doing any farther damage to it: and as to any extraordinary
expence which may happen on this account, the trustees will
readily pay. A Committee of the Trustees of the Charity
will be immediately called, and they will do themselves the
pleasure of waiting on you. We are, Sir, &c.

JACKSON, Rector,
BARTHO. PAYNE, Churchwarden.
HENRY BUNN, Secretary to the Trust[54:A]."

Nothing particular occurred for upwards of a year after the above
outrage; but in October 1758, the brutality of the mob was excited by
the interment of Mr. Wilson, an undertaker and pawnbroker, who had kept
the Punch-bowl near Moorgate. The cause of their resentment proves that
a British mob generally acts upon a noble principle; as the deceased
was reported to have left a legacy of 200_l._ to be paid in groats to
those persons who were then imprisoned at his suit, though he died
rich. This malice from the grave justly exasperated all who knew of it;
and their anger was properly inflamed by observing that a detachment
of the Artillery company, to which Wilson had belonged, intended to
pay him military honours on the way to Islington, where he was to be
buried. Every mark of abhorrence and contempt consequently ensued
from an astonishing number of persons, who severely hurt each other
by collision; and it was with the utmost difficulty that the priest
performed his office.

I am sorry to add that at the same time some miscreants in the middle
rank of life, inflamed by dissipation, were in the practice of
pretending to fight every evening on Ludgate-hill, for the diabolical
pleasure of dealing blows indiscriminately on peaceable passengers;
and, to use their own words, "in order to see the claret run." These
wretches who thus wantonly attacked the publick, broke the leg of a
Constable, and bruised several watchmen, before they could secure two
of them, who were committed till the Constable recovered.

Five years passed without producing a single offence committed by
numbers acting under temporary impulse; at length an affray happened
between certain Irish chairmen and sailors, who were all inflamed by
liquor, drank in honour of the election held in Covent-garden March
1763. After they had abused each other with the usual language of
vulgar irritation, a challenge was offered by a chairman to fight
the best sailor present: this ended in the defeat of the Irishman,
who was instantly reinforced by his brethren, when a general attack
with pokers, tongs, fenders, &c. &c. commenced on the sailors; those,
supported by a party of unarmed soldiers, drove their antagonists from
the field, and immediately proceeded to demolish every chair they could
find. These outrages continued till evening, and by that time a general
muster of chairmen had taken place, who, exasperated to madness, beat
down men, women, and children, in their progress to the scene of
action, where a dreadful conflict was prevented by a party of Soldiers
from the Savoy, whose exertions accomplished the capture of some of the
ringleaders, but not before a Soldier and a Sailor, and three other
persons, had been dangerously wounded, and the King's-head ale-house
almost demolished.

The hardy seamen, defenders of our island, are excellent subjects when
on-board their respective ships, but they are very apt to be turbulent
on shore; another instance of which succeeded the Covent-garden riot
almost immediately, though the cause was different. The conduct of the
Sailor is generally exceedingly thoughtless: low drinking-houses and
women are their favourite sources of amusement; and the keepers of
the former, united with the latter, never fail to make them repent,
as far as their insensible minds are susceptible. The Police of the
Tower Hamlets, aware of this, frequently sent peace-officers to houses
of ill-fame, in order to apprehend the most obnoxious inmates; and in
pursuit of this laudable custom several women and a few sailors were
sent to the Round-house in March 1763. On the following morning they
were taken before the Magistrates then assembled at the Black-horse
near the Victualling-office for examination; there numbers of Sailors
collected, and demanded the release of their comrades, which the
Justices complied with; but, still dissatisfied, they insisted on the
enlargement of the women. This presumptuous request was, however,
positively refused, and the Magistrates, dreading the consequences,
sent three different times for detachments of Soldiers to support their
authority, and as an equipoise for the increasing numbers of the
Sailors, who assembled from all sides to the amount, it is said, of
more than a thousand: the Riot Act was read no less than three times
to no purpose, during which time the Sailors had obtained flags from
the shipping, and having marshalled themselves _in a line of battle,
they bore down_ on the Soldiers drawn up to receive them. At the
instant the commanding officer of the latter was about to pronounce
the dreadful word _Fire!_ a naval officer made his appearance in front
of the Sailors, and intreated the order might be reserved till he
had endeavoured to convince his brethren of the impropriety of their
conduct. He then addressed himself to the Sailors, and said they would
forfeit the favour of the King, who had promised to take off their
R's; to which he added other arguments, and at length prevailed upon
two-thirds of them to follow him to Tower-hill, where he dismissed them.

A Serjeant and twelve Soldiers were sent about four o'clock on the same
afternoon to Clerkenwell Bridewell, as an escort to eight of the women
who had occasioned the riot. Those were pursued by a party of Sailors,
and overtaken at Chiswell-street. The instant release of the prisoners
was demanded and refused, when one of the Soldiers fired, and wounded
a Sailor and a Baker; but, as the assailants became more violent after
this precipitation, the Serjeant wisely determined to resign his
charge, rather than cause farther bloodshed.

The Weavers resident in Spital-fields were the next disturbers of the
public peace. Those useful members of Society had long disputed with
their employers respecting their wages; and at length a compromise
took place, when printed papers of the various prices of their work
were distributed, in order to prevent future disputes. Some avaricious
master-weavers, however, thought proper to reduce the weaving of
certain articles one half-penny _per_ yard; and hence the riots, which
commenced with the destruction of the looms belonging to one of the
most active opponents of the journeymen, whose effigies they afterwards
placed in a cart, hanged, and burnt. This conduct, though highly
improper, was innocence compared with that now to be related, which
originated in the strange folly and wickedness of Seamen almost at the
same time. The narrative was compiled from the minutes of the Coroner's
Inquest.

"On Thursday last an inquisition was taken in Holywell-street,
Shoreditch, upon the bodies of Ralph Meadows and John Whitrow, two
of the persons killed in the late riot before a public house, known
by the sign of the Marquis of Granby's-head, in Holywell-street. The
inquisition lasted six hours. It appeared in the evidence, that on
Monday last, about one o'clock, a great mob assembled before and in
the dwelling-house of Thomas Kelly the publican, committing outrages;
that on application to two Magistrates, they wrote to the Lieutenant
of the third regiment of foot-guards, then on duty, with an Ensign
and 100 men under his command, in Spital-fields, on account of a late
riot there, acquainting him, that there was a great mob assembled in
Holywell-street, Shoreditch, who had broke open a house in a violent
and outrageous manner, to the terror of his Majesty's quiet subjects,
and in breach of the peace; and desiring him to attend with a proper
force to disperse the mob and stop their proceedings.

"The Lieutenant assembled as many of his men as the short notice would
permit, before the passage door leading to the said public house, where
he found a great crowd of people; and on going into the house with
the Justices' order in his hand, he found some very desperate fellows
in it, some in sailors' habits, who were cursing and swearing that
they would not leave the house, but do what they pleased; one of them
behaving in a very affronting manner to the Lieutenant, some of the
soldiers led him out. About three o'clock, the Lieutenant prevailed on
them to depart, and they went away quietly, leaving only a crowd of
people standing before the passage door, who had gathered there out
of curiosity. The Lieutenant then withdrew himself, leaving only a
Serjeant, Corporal, and twelve private soldiers, which he did at the
solicitation of the publican, who was afraid of a second attack. The
Lieutenant then went to dinner, and informed the Serjeant he would
return in an hour. For about half an hour all was quiet; and then a
gentleman came up to the Serjeant, and bade him take care of himself,
as there was a body of sailors coming up the street, d--ing their eyes,
declaring, 'they would clear the soldiers, and pull the house down.'
The Serjeant seeing them advance, looked round to the soldiers, and
said, 'There they come;' and ordered his men to stand to their arms,
and he would meet the rioters, but bade them fix their bayonets. He
approached about twelve yards towards the rioters, and pulled off his
hat, and said, 'Gentlemen, I hope you do not come with any intent to
make a disturbance.' They d--ned their eyes, and informed him, that
'they had got one man, and would have the landlord of the house.' The
Serjeant, telling them 'that he was placed there by an order from the
civil power to take care of the house and preserve the peace,' returned
to his command. The sailors then advanced, and some of them mounted the
sign-post, and to prevent their getting up, some of the soldiers gently
struck them with their pieces; but the Serjeant, finding them resolute
to take down the sign, ordered the soldiers to let them, and informed
the soldiers, that he was then in hopes to disperse them without
mischief. As soon as the sign was down, they gave a huzza, and some
of them called out, 'Now for the landlord,' and in a riotous manner
advanced with their sticks towards the passage which the soldiers
were guarding. The Serjeant informed them he could not admit them
into the house upon any account: upon which they began to beat with
their sticks, and press on the soldiers; and the serjeant ordered the
soldiers to charge (which is fixing their musquets breast high) but it
had no effect: they then assaulted the soldiers with pieces of brick,
tile, and great quantities of mud, and forced two bayonets from the
musquets, one of which was broke, and the other was taken up by one of
the sailors, with which he made a full push at the Serjeant, but he
happily warded it off with his halbert; and the sailors got between
him and his men, and attacked them with such violence that they were
forced into the passage which leads to the public-house, and thereupon
a battle ensued, and the Serjeant used all his endeavours to come to
his men, but he was prevented by the sailors, and received several
blows. The men being thus pressed into the passage, were obliged to
fire, and two pieces were discharged, which, from the faint report, and
no mischief being done, and the sailors not giving way, the witnesses
all declared, that they believed the pieces were loaded with gunpowder
only. The sailors continuing to press violently upon the soldiers, and
endeavouring to force the passage, the soldiers fired again, and two
men, amongst the rioters, were seen to drop.

"The sailors now became very desperate, and most violently assaulted
the soldiers with their sticks; and the soldiers were, through
inevitable necessity, in defence of their lives, and for the public
peace, obliged to fire, and the firing continued till they cleared the
passage and street before it, which was very soon done: upon which the
Serjeant took the opportunity of running to his men, and cried out,
'For God's sake fire no more.' He then drew all his men out of the
passage, and formed a square in the street, and ordered them to ease
their arms, and on looking about him he saw three men lying dead in the
street, two of which appeared to be sailors. Several of the soldiers'
fingers were bloody from the blows they received from the rioters. In
the riot two sailors jumped into a window belonging to a butcher's
house, near the public-house, and one of them taking a chopper out of
the shop, endeavoured to rush by the Corporal into the passage to the
public-house, but was seized by the Corporal to prevent his going in,
by which means the Corporal's hand was cut by the chopper to such a
degree, that he was obliged to be sent to an hospital.

"The witnesses swore, that they verily believed the soldiers were
obliged to fire in defence of their lives, as well as for the
preservation of the public peace; and the Jury were well satisfied with
the evidence before them.

"The Coroner, in summing up the evidence, distinguished between murder,
manslaughter, and justifiable or excusable homicides, both voluntary
and involuntary; and chance-medley, or homicide by misadventure; under
one of which classes, he informed the Jury, the present case must fall.
He observed, that the soldiers did not come to that place wantonly to
do an injury, but were called in, as the Lieutenant understood, and
so called it (when he produced his authority) in his evidence, 'by an
order from the civil power,' to suppress the rioters, and preserve
the King's peace; and whether the civil power had taken the proper
steps before applying to the military, or whether the notice sent to
the Lieutenant was a legal warrant or order, or not, were not matters
of their enquiry; for that, supposing a Justice of Peace should issue
an illegal warrant, and an officer should be killed in the execution
of it, in that case the party killing would be deemed a murderer; for
the officer was obliged to execute his office: he is not supposed to
be a judge of law; he is only a minister of Justice, and the party
had a legal remedy, if he had been improperly arrested. The Coroner
said, that the conduct of the military power upon that occasion was
the immediate subject of their enquiry; that, if the Jury gave credit
to the witnesses, the major part of whom were disinterested persons,
the soldiers did not fire till they were pressed to it, by inevitable
necessity, in defence of their own lives, and for the preservation
of the public peace; and in killing any of the rioters, had done
no more than 'Justifiable Homicides' of inevitable necessity, for
the preservation of the King's peace, and in defence of themselves;
and added, that in such case, if any person was killed that was not
concerned in the riot, but unfortunately hemmed in by the rioters, or
was passing along at that time, in that case it would be chance-medley,
or homicide _per infortunium_, that is, death by misadventure; and as
it did not appear to the Jury that the persons upon whom they then sat
were acting in the riot, the Jury found the special matter, and brought
in their verdict Homicides by Misadventure.

"After the riot by the sailors was over, the people collected, and were
so much enraged against the soldiers, that the Lieutenant was obliged
to send to the Tower for a reinforcement to prevent mischief; and they
continued under arms till near twelve at night, when he withdrew,
leaving at the public-house a Serjeant, Corporal, and twenty private
men, who, reporting the next morning that all was well, were ordered to
their several quarters."

A third scene of popular tumult occurred before the close of the year
1763, and was caused by the execution of the sentence of burning Mr.
Wilkes's celebrated Number 45 of the North Briton.

The 3d of December was appointed for this silly ceremony, which took
place before the Royal Exchange amidst the hisses and execrations of
the mob, not directed at the obnoxious paper, but at Alderman Harley,
the Sheriffs, and constables; the latter of whom were compelled to
fight furiously through the whole business. The instant the hangman
held the work to a lighted link it was beat to the ground; and the
populace, seizing the faggots prepared to complete its destruction,
fell upon the peace-officers, and fairly threshed them from the field;
nor did the Alderman escape without a contusion on the head, inflicted
by a billet thrown through the glass of his coach; and several other
persons had reason to repent the attempt to burn that publicly which
the _sovereign people_ determined to approve, who afterwards exhibited
a large _jack boot_ at Temple-bar, and burnt it in triumph, unmolested,
as a species of retaliation.

February in the following year produced another description of outrage;
and, as the mob arranged themselves on the side of Liberty in the
above instance, they determined in the following to adopt the cause of
Justice, though, as it almost always happens, they listened only to
_one_ side of the case; in short, they are generally a Jury who retire
for a verdict when the evidence _for the prosecution_ is closed. The
Ambassador from the Emperor of Morocco resided in Panton-square, and
had in his suite a female servant who was arrested for debt, and sent
to a receiving or _spunging_ house. When the Resident heard of this
violation of diplomatic privilege, he immediately demanded that the
woman should be restored to liberty; and the officer in whose custody
she was, knowing of the illegality of the arrest, complied. So far
all was right; but the plaintiff (a chairman) despising the law of
Nations, watched at the Ambassador's door, and as soon as he obtained a
glimpse of his debtor claimed her _as his wife_, and under that claim
compelled her to attend him to a public-house in the neighbourhood.
Though the good lady strained every faculty in denying his assumed
rights, her clamour, of no avail with the chairman, reached the ears
of her fellow servants, who, melted with her distress, sallied forth,
and manfully released the captive from the fangs of a number of the
captor's brethren, whom he had wisely stationed at the public-house
to assist him in his views. Thus defeated, the creditor adopted a
most certain method to carry his point. He therefore assembled his
_posse_ in front of the Ambassador's house, and began his operations
by loud complaints, intended for the ears of those who passed, that
the servants of his Excellency had forcibly seized on his wife, and
conveyed her for some very dreadful purpose into his mansion, where
she was detained to his inexpressible grief and terror. A hint of
this description is sufficient in the streets of London; curiosity
soon collects a crowd, and the idea of injustice or oppression flies
like lightning from male to female, kindling in its progress the very
essence of indignation, and an immediate resolve to execute summary
justice. An hundred voices demanded the woman; an hundred arms were
lifted at the same moment with hands grasping dirt and stones, which
they hurled at the inoffensive windows without effect. At this moment
a cry to burst the door was accompanied by a successful effort, and in
rushed the mob; every thing that could be broken in the parlours was
demolished, and used as weapons for forcing the besieged, now driven to
the stairs head of the first floor, where they appeared, commanded by
the Ambassador and a gentleman, armed with drawn sabres. Intimidated
at the glances of the shining steel, the besiegers dared not ascend,
but made a drawn battle of the affair. A cannonade of legs and arms of
chairs, and other articles of broken furniture, succeeded, which no
sooner reached the heads of those above than they were darted back with
additional velocity. Captain Woolaston of the guards happened to pass
through the square with a party of soldiers, on his way to protect the
sufferers from a fire then raging in Eagle-street; and, attracted by
the shouts of the contending forces, examined into the affair, and soon
dispersed the rioters, several of whom were afterwards apprehended by
Justice Welch, and committed to prison.

In May 1764 several footmen who had attended their masters to Ranelagh
thought proper to attack certain gentlemen there for refusing vails to
their servants; and, not contented with hissing and abusing _them_,
proceeded to destroy the fences, break the lamps, and throw stones
through the windows upon the company in the Rotunda. The ringleaders
were as usual apprehended, and constables were afterwards placed at
Ranelagh to preserve the peace; but the best part of the fact is
that those worthy officers of Justice actually drank till they were
intoxicated on a subsequent evening, and _fought in the midst of the
company_.

We have now arrived at a period when riot and outrage was, to use
a modern phrase, _organized_; every real or imaginary evil led to
extremities, and the quiet Citizen passed his days in constant
apprehension. The year 1768 commenced with a fresh display of the
turbulence of weavers, who went well armed to the houses of other
journeymen in the same business, called single-handed Weavers, to
revenge the injuries asserted to have been inflicted by them on the
engine-loom Weavers, where they secured several, and conveyed them to a
Magistrate; and it appeared on examination their complaints were well
founded, as they proved the prisoners and their brethren had even fired
into their windows. Others in April, armed with cutlasses, pistols,
&c. and in disguise, went at 12 o'clock at night to the residences of
several journeymen in Spital-fields; and cut to pieces 16 looms, with
their contents, which belonged to Messrs. Everard and Phipps. On a
subsequent nocturnal excursion those miscreants narrowly escaped from a
party of soldiers who had nearly surrounded them unperceived.

Influenced by the above pernicious examples, the Coal-heavers of the
Metropolis entered into combinations before the end of April; and
collecting in considerable numbers went through Wapping, and thence
on board of colliers, where with weapons in hand they compelled their
sable brethren to desist from working, and even dangerously wounded
several. In this instance the military prevented greater outrages.

In May a large body of Sailors with drums and flags proceeded in two
divisions to St. James's Palace, and presented a petition to the King,
praying for an increase of their pay in consideration of the high price
of provisions. On the 10th of the same month, and at four o'clock in
the morning, many boats, manned by Sailors and Coal-heavers, entered
upon a survey of the wharfs above Blackfriars-bridge, and compelled
all they found at work to join them; others patroled the streets, and
collected those who were at home and in public-houses; when they began
their operations by forcing the drivers of carts and waggons loaded
with coals, flour, and wood, to return whence they came. After this
operation had been completely accomplished, they marched in a body,
increasing as they went, to Stepney-fields, whence parties of them
proceeded to unrig such vessels as they chose to prevent from sailing.
The fraternity of Sawyers, equally refractory, destroyed an excellent
saw-mill then recently erected by Charles Dingley, Esq. almost at the
same instant.

Government acted on this trying occasion with great lenity, or was
under the influence of fear; and it plainly appears that the safety
of the publick in their lives and property originated rather from the
_tempered_ madness of the rioters, than in any dread of resistance from
the Police or the Military. We are told of the marching of troops,
and of orders issued to Magistrates to be vigilant; yet the populace,
inflamed by politicks, even ventured to chalk No. 45 on the coaches
of the nobility as they passed through the streets. The cause of this
irritation I hardly need inform my readers was Mr. Wilkes, whose
conduct in attacking the Ministry had excited ministerial anger to a
degree that alarmed all ranks of people lest arbitrary proceedings
should be substituted for constitutional, to gratify that resentment;
and some of the decisions of the Courts proved their fears to be
well-founded. Thus far I have thought it necessary to state the cause,
but by no means intend to enter into the merits of the case, which I
shall conclude with Mr. Wilkes's address to the Gentlemen, Clergy, and
Freeholders of the county of Middlesex, in order to explain the origin
of the subsequent bloodshed.

"Gentlemen,

"In support of the liberties of this country against the
arbitrary rule of Ministers, I was before committed to the
Tower, and am now sentenced to this prison. Steadiness with,
I hope, strength of mind, do not however leave me; for the
same consolation follows me here, the consciousness of
innocence, of having done my duty, and exerted all my poor
abilities, not unsuccessfully, for this nation. I can submit
even to far greater sufferings with cheerfulness, because
that I see that my countrymen reap the happy fruits of my
labours and cruel persecutions, by the repeated decisions
of our sovereign Courts of Justice in favour of liberty. I
therefore bear up with fortitude, and even glory that I am
called to suffer in this cause, because I continue to find
the noblest reward--the applause of my native country, of
this great, free, and spirited people.

"I chiefly regret, gentlemen, that this confinement deprives
me of the honour of thanking you in person according to my
promise, and at present takes from me in a great degree the
power of being useful to you. The will, however, to do every
service to my constituents remains in its full force; and
when my sufferings have a period, the first day I regain
my liberty shall restore a life of zeal in the cause and
interests of the county of Middlesex.

"In this prison, in any other, in every place, my
ruling passion will be the love of England and our free
Constitution. To those objects I will make every sacrifice.
Under all the oppressions which ministerial rage and revenge
can invent, my steady purpose is to concert with you, and
other true friends of this country, the most probable
means of rooting out the remains of arbitrary power and
Star-chamber inquisition, and of improving as well as
securing the generous plans of freedom, which were the
boast of our ancestors, and I trust will remain the noblest
inheritance of our posterity, the only genuine characteristic
of Englishmen. I have, &c. &c.

JOHN WILKES.

"_King's-bench Prison, May 5, 1768._"

Some circumstances had induced the populace to suppose it was the
intention of Government to remove Mr. Wilkes from the King's-bench to
the House of Commons on Tuesday, May 10. Many idle and curious persons
probably assembled near the gates to _kill_ an hour by gazing at a man
who had excited their attention, and many others doubtlessly attended
for riotous and unjustifiable purposes, which Mr. Wilkes or any real
patriot must have disapproved, though in the usual blindness of zeal
those purposes are generally disregarded as unworthy notice in the
cause of liberty, when violent men choose to espouse her interest.
A detestable incendiary, a successful villain, to whom I attribute
the innocent deaths of those that fell on this fatal day, pasted
certain doggrel lines on the prison walls which were read with avidity
by the mob, and contributed to inflame their minds; they demanded
the appearance of the prisoner with shouts, and at length several
Magistrates and the military arrived, the paper was taken down, the
riot commenced, the soldiers fired, and a young man named Allen fell
under such circumstances as occasioned the following trial.

"Summary of the Trial of Donald Maclane, on Tuesday last, at
Guildford Assizes, for the Murder of William Allen, jun. on
the 10th of May last in St. George's Fields.

"Mr. Serjeant Leigh, Counsel for the prosecution, having
opened the trial with a speech suitable to the purpose,
proceeded to an examination of witnesses, and produced two,
one Skidmore a discharged marine, and one Twaites a country
lad, who had been about a fortnight in Mr. Allen's service as
an ostler. These evidences swore positively to the identity
of the prisoner, and were the only people on the part of
the prosecution, who declared any knowledge of his person.
The latter, however, differed in his own accounts of the
transaction; and the testimony which he gave before the
Coroner was contradicted by the deposition which he gave into
Court.

"The next witnesses, Okins and Brawn, swear that they were in
the cow-house with Mr. Allen at the time he was shot; and the
latter particularly says, that he was going to strike down
the soldier's musquet, which was levelled at the deceased,
but that another soldier seeming ready to present at himself,
the care which he had for his own life, together with his
terror at the situation of Mr. Allen, obliged him to retire.
Okins says, that when he heard the soldier threaten Mr.
Allen, he (Okins) fell down with an excess of apprehension;
neither, however, though so near to the soldier, could swear
to his identity; and what is the more remarkable, each was
unseen by the other, Okins never once recollecting Brawn's
being present, and Brawn being equally ignorant of Okins.
Several other witnesses appeared for the prosecution, but
as they prove nothing so material as the evidences already
mentioned, and chiefly tend to clear up what is universally
admitted, namely, Mr. Allen's being wholly unconcerned in the
riots of the day, it is not necessary to take any particular
notice of them.

"The evidence for the prosecution being ended, the prisoner's
Counsel produced their witnesses; the first of whom, Samuel
Gillam, Esq. declared, that on the 10th of May, having been
previously applied to by the Marshal of the King's Bench
prison for a guard, he came into St. George's Fields, where
a detachment of one hundred men, properly officered, had
been ordered. Here the mob were exceedingly riotous; and Mr.
Gillam tells us, that he himself was several times struck
with a variety of missile articles. A paper had been stuck
up against the prison, which seemed the raving of some
_patriotic_ bedlamite, and in six lines, as stupid as they
were seditious, talked about Liberty being confined with Mr.
Wilkes, and desiring all good Englishmen to pay their daily
homage, at the place where those invaluable blessings were
lodged. This paper had been taken down by the Constables, a
circumstance which gave the _generous_ assertors of Freedom
incredible offence, and they roared out, 'the paper, the
paper, give us the paper.' Mr. Gillam answered, that if
any person there would claim the property of the paper, it
should be immediately restored, and gave it into Mr. Ponton's
hands, before the rioters, to keep till somebody should be
bold enough to make so particular a demand. This enraged
the populace still farther, and a Patriot in two dirty red
waistcoats, but without any coat, distinguished himself
in throwing stones at the Magistrates, and the Constables
received orders to apprehend him; in this service they
were assisted by Mr. Murray, the Ensign on duty, and five
or six grenadiers. The fellow fled, and was pursued by the
grenadiers; he escaped into a Cow-house, and shut the door
after him, but the soldiers continued their pursuit, and in
a little time the report of a musquet was heard; in a few
minutes after they returned, and Peter Mac Cloughlan, with an
air of great concern, and a tone of much distress, informed
Mr. Murray that his piece had gone off accidentally, and
that a man was killed--'Damn you,' replied Mr. Murray, 'Who
gave you orders to fire?' 'Nobody,' answered Mac Cloughlan;
'it went off entirely by accident.' This circumstance Mr.
Gillam deposed he took particular notice of, because the man
testified every natural sign of concern and humanity.

"The Cow-house has three doors or gates, one at each side,
and another at one of the ends. The fellow in the red
waistcoat got in at a side door, and is supposed to have
escaped the opposite way; just at this unfortunate crisis
young Mr. Allen, who was also in a red waistcoat, entered
at the door out of which the rioter had fled, so that when
the soldiers opened the door nearest to them, they found a
person in a red waistcoat, and this person was shot by Mac
Cloughlan, as he himself confessed; but whether by accident,
or design is not at all necessary to the present object of
enquiry; the enquiry now is, whether Mr. Allen was shot by
Maclane, or whether he was not.

"Mr. Gillam swears peremptorily that Maclane is not the man
who made the confession alluded to; and Corporal Neale,
with Serjeant Earle, Serjeant Steuart, and several private
men, who were that day in St. George's-fields, and some
of whom were likewise at the Cow-house, in pursuit of the
rioter, either declare, that they heard Mac Cloughlan's
own acknowledgment of the fact, or swear that Maclane did
not enter the Cow-house at all. One of the private men
particularly, James Hide, says he was in the Cow-house when
Mac Cloughlan's piece went off, and adds, that there was at
that time nobody in it but the deceased, Mac Cloughlan, and
himself.

"Many of the military witnesses swear that they can easily
tell, by looking at a musquet, if it has been newly
discharged; and they express themselves with certainty, that
Maclane's was not discharged at all on the 10th of May. To
this they add, that Mac Cloughlan, from an apprehension of
consequences, has deserted.

"The evidence for the prosecution, however, took notice,
that Maclane's musquet was particularly examined, and that
he was even ordered from the ranks, upon a presumption, as
they imagine, that the officers themselves were satisfied
he was the person by whom Mr. Allen had been killed. But
this circumstance is very well accounted for on the other
side; where several of the witnesses prove, that after the
_accidental_ discharge which Mac Cloughlan mentions of his
piece, and the unhappy consequence, Mr. Murray, the Ensign,
observing Maclane's musquet on a full cock, reproached him
with negligence, and took the piece out of his hand to look
at; Maclane mentioned in his excuse, that his flint was too
large, and that if he kept it upon a half cock, he should
lose all the priming from his pan.

"Some persons seeing the transaction, and hearing Maclane
reproached, concluded he was the person who had shot Mr.
Allen; and they pointed him out as a murderer; the officer,
therefore, thought it necessary, for the man's security,
to remove him from the ranks; but, finding him more liable
to danger then than when he was with the corps, he ordered
him to his former station.--However, as he was positively
sworn to, the military were forced to give him up,
notwithstanding their consciousness of his innocence; and Mr.
Gillam, as a Magistrate, was obliged to receive the charge,
notwithstanding he was so perfectly acquainted with Mac
Cloughlan's declaration.

"Such was the general scope of the evidence on this trial;
after which the Judge summed up the evidence, declined saying
much from himself, as the question did not turn upon any
difficult points; the Jury withdrew, and in about an hour
returned with a verdict of _Not Guilty_. Mr. Wilkes, who was
all the time at the Red Lion Inn, opposite the Court, was
taken to town the moment the prisoner was acquitted. He was
only examined a few minutes by the Grand Jury. He was brought
back on Tuesday night to the King's-bench Prison.

"The Grand Jury dismissed the bills against the officer and
the other soldiers.

"The above trial began about half an hour after seven in the
morning, and lasted near nine hours. The counsel for the
prosecution were, Mr. Serjeant Leigh, Mr. Lucas, Mr. Lade,
and Mr. Baker; those for the prisoner were, Mr. Hervey, Mr.
Cox, Mr. Bishop, and Mr. Robinson."

The lines alluded to in the trial were:

"Let * * * * * Judges, Ministers combine,
And here great Wilkes and _Liberty confine_;
Yet in each English heart secure their fame is,
In spite of crowded levies at St. J--s's.
Then, while in prison Envy dooms _their_ stay,
Here grateful Britons daily homage pay."

It is by no means necessary to trace the effects of the several balls
fired upon this occasion; it will be quite enough to add that the
innocent alone suffered.

To conclude the eventful story of poor Allen; his remains were
deposited in the church-yard of St. Mary Newington, Surrey, where
_political_ friends honoured his memory with a handsome, if not a
superb monument, thus inscribed:

North side:

"Sacred to the memory of
WILLIAM ALLEN,
An Englishman of unspotted life and amiable
disposition,
Who was inhumanly murdered near St. George's-fields,
the 10th day of May, 1768, by the Scottish
detachment from the army. His disconsolate
parents, inhabitants of this parish, caused this
tomb to be erected to an only son, lost to them
and to the world, in his 20th year, as a monument
of his virtues and their affection!"

South side:

"O disembody'd Soul! most rudely driven
From this low orb (our sinful seat) to Heaven;
While filial piety can please the ear,
Thy name will still occur, for ever dear:
This very spot, now humaniz'd, shall crave
From all a tear of pity on thy grave.
O flow'r of flow'rs! which we shall see no more, }
No kind returning Spring can thee restore: }
Thy loss thy hapless countrymen deplore." }

East side:

"O earth! cover not thou my blood. Job xvi. 18."

West side:

"Take away the wicked from before the King, and his throne
shall be established in righteousness. Prov. xxiii. 5."

The unwarrantable inferences of the above inscription, and the spirit
which dictated the exposure of it, removes the compassion that
posterity would otherwise have felt for the parents of the innocent
youth, whose situation was certainly not more pitiable than that of
the relatives of the other persons killed on the same day. If we had
a single doubt that the senior Allen became a tool of party after
perusing the epitaph, the petition which he put into the King's own
hands on the 5th of October will prove it beyond dispute. His cries for
vengeance proceeded not from a broken spirit; such would have forgiven
mankind long before _a year and three months_ had elapsed.

"To his MAJESTY.

"The humble Petition of William Allen, the disconsolate
father of William Allen, who was barbarously murdered on the
10th of May, 1768.

"Most gracious Sovereign,

"Your Petitioner thinks it his duty to lay before your
Majesty, with great humility, a short account of the
unprovoked and outrageous murder committed by a Scotch
officer, and three soldiers of the same regiment, upon
the innocent body of your Petitioner's only son: a youth
that, all who knew him are ready to attest, was perfectly
sober, temperate, humane, dutiful to his parents, and a
sincere lover and worshiper of his God. It was a murder of
so complicated a die, and attended by so many barbarous
and cruel circumstances, as can hardly be paralleled in
any former age, and is a disgrace to the present, which
was proved to a demonstration, before an honest impartial
Jury summoned by the Coroner, and the officer and soldiers
brought in guilty of _Wilful Murder_; yet, by the powerful
interposition of the great, and the artful and sinister means
of some of your Majesty's Justices, who ordered the soldiers
to fire, and suffered one of the murderers to make his
escape, and the others have been screened from the punishment
they so justly deserved; and, as your Petitioner has been
informed, some of them rewarded for committing this most
execrable crime.

"That if your most gracious Majesty, the father of your
people, would permit your unhappy Petitioner to lay the whole
state of his case before you, he is well persuaded your
Majesty's fatherly heart would sympathise with the still
bleeding agonies of the disconsolate parents of so amiable
a child, snatched from them by the hands of ruffians in the
bloom of youth and innocence; of a daughter who did not long
survive the untimely death of her beloved brother, and of a
most afflicted mother, who (though still alive) incessantly
moans and weeps over the cruel death of the best of children,
and cannot be comforted. Your Majesty can never be offended
with your most afflicted Petitioner for applying to your
Majesty for justice against the cruel murderers of his
beloved child, whose blood cries aloud for vengeance.

"Your Majesty's Petitioner has spent a very large sum of
money in the prosecution of the perpetrators of this horrid
crime; and though this prosecution was carried on in your
Majesty's name, yet it is a notorious fact, that your
Majesty's Counsel, Solicitor, and Agents for the Treasury,
were employed against me, appeared publicly at the Assizes,
and by all other arbitrary acts, rendered every effort
of your poor Petitioner vain and insignificant, to the
astonishment of all unbiassed hearers who attended that
trial. Your Petitioner, therefore, has no hopes of justice
but from your Majesty: he has, indeed, this consolation
left, that he proved by incontestable evidence that his son
was innocent, and that he was not in the fields that fatal
day, neither had he given the least offence to any person
whatsoever; that he was employed in his own business to the
very minute of his being killed adjoining his father's own
premises; that neither his natural temper, nor inoffensive
behaviour, ever tempted him to mix with ill-disposed persons
in any private or public disturbance of any kind, and was
so remarkably harmless and mild, that he hath in these
particulars hardly left his equal; for the truth of which
facts, your Petitioner appeals to all that knew him.

"It is humbly hoped, your Majesty will pardon the length
of this Petition, laid before you by the most disconsolate
father of a murdered child, who now, with tears in his eyes,
and a bleeding heart, lies prostrate at your Majesty's feet,
meekly and humbly imploring your compassion and justice,
equally due to the meanest of your subjects.

"Your Petitioner, therefore, most humbly beseeches your
Majesty, to take the premises into your royal consideration,
and to issue out your proclamation for apprehending the
perpetrators of this horrid crime, which may still be useful,
though it is a year and three months since the commission
of the fact, that they may be brought to a fair trial, when
your Petitioner will be ready to prove what he has asserted,
or in any other way or method that your Majesty in your
great wisdom and justice shall think most proper; and your
Petitioner shall for ever pray for the ease, happiness, and
prosperity of your Majesty's Royal person and posterity.

WILLIAM ALLEN."

Exclusive of the foregoing attempt to terminate the strange infatuation
of the people, a Proclamation was issued in the ensuing words:

"GEORGE R.

"Whereas it has been represented to us, that divers dissolute
and disorderly persons have of late frequently assembled
themselves together in a riotous and unlawful manner, to
the disturbance of the public peace; and particularly, that
large bodies of Seamen, consisting of several thousands,
have assembled tumultuously upon the river Thames, and,
under a pretence of the insufficiency of the wages allowed
by the merchants and others, have in the most daring manner
taken possession by violence of several outward-bound ships
ready to sail, and by unbending the sails, and striking the
yards and topmasts, have stopped them in the prosecution of
their voyages; and that these acts of violence have been
accompanied with threats of still greater outrages, which
have spread terror and alarm among those most likely to
be immediately affected thereby; and it has been further
represented to us, that some of the said dissolute and
disorderly persons have audaciously attempted to deter and
intimidate the civil Magistrates from doing their duty:
we, having taken the same into our serious consideration,
and being duly sensible of the mischievous consequences
that may ensue from the continuance or repetition of such
disorders, have thought fit, by and with the advice of
our Privy-council, to issue this our Royal Proclamation;
hereby strictly requiring and commanding the Lord Mayor, and
other the Justices of the peace of our City of London, and
also the Justices of the peace of our City and Liberties of
Westminster and Borough of Southwark; and of our Counties of
Middlesex, Surrey, Kent, and all other our peace-officers,
that they do severally use their utmost endeavours, by every
legal means in their power, effectually to prevent and
suppress all riots, tumults, and unlawful assemblies; and to
that end to put in due execution the laws and statutes now in
force for preventing, suppressing, and punishing the same;
and that all our loving subjects be aiding and assisting
therein. And we do further graciously declare, that the said
Magistrates, and all others acting in obedience to this our
command, may rely on our Royal protection and support in so
doing.

"Given at our Court at St. James's the 11th day of May, 1768,
in the eighth year of our reign."

Two days before the appearance of the King's Proclamation the Lord
Mayor had published others, which follow:

"_Mansion-house, London, May 9, 1768._

"Whereas information has been given to me that great
numbers of young persons, who appear to be apprentices
and journeymen, have assembled themselves together in
large bodies in different parts of this city and liberties
thereof, for several evenings last past, and behaved
themselves in such manner that, if continued, may greatly
endanger the peace of the said City: this is therefore to
caution all masters to use their best endeavours to prevent
their apprentices and servants from assembling themselves
together in the public streets, as whoever shall hereafter be
found offending in the manner aforesaid will be prosecuted
according to law: and for the better preserving the peace of
the said City and Liberties, the Freemen thereof are at this
juncture reminded of the two following clauses contained in
their oath of admission before the Chamberlain:

'You shall keep the King's peace in your own
person. You shall know no gatherings, conventicles,
or conspiracies made against the King's peace, but
you shall warn the Mayor thereof, or hinder it to
your power.'

"If a Freeman breaks through this oath he forfeits his
freedom; and if having one, two, three, or more apprentices,
and does not in a time of public disorder restrain him or
them from going abroad, and from encreasing the said public
disorder, he may be deemed and construed an accessary
thereto, and guilty of a breach of his oath.

"THOMAS HARLEY, _Mayor_."

* * * * *

"Whereas a paragraph appeared in the public papers the 5th
instant setting forth, 'That 790 quarters of wheat had been
laid up upwards of six months in two lighters below bridge,
and was become rotten and thrown overboard into the Thames:'
and as such paragraphs are frequently void of truth, and tend
only to inflame the minds of people, who at this time are
too much deluded and deceived by what they read in public
newspapers; I think it necessary to inform the publick of
the state of that matter from the best information I could
obtain; _viz._ the Lady Adleheit, John Segal Ken, took on
board at Bremen, the 17th day of December last, 70 last
of wheat in bags, being 1400 bags; the frost setting in
immediately she was detained by the ice there, and did not
arrive at the port of London till the 4th of April; and the
cargo by being so long on board, and by the damage the ship
sustained among the ice, proved in a most terrible condition,
and was disposed of in the following manner:

300 quarters at 40_s._ 6_d._
90 ditto 41
270 40
50 14

35 ditto in the lump at five guineas; 9 one-half thrown
overboard.

"THOMAS HARLEY, _Mayor_."

A set of wretches, taking advantage of the general confusion, adopted
a new method of depredation, by passing through the streets in the
characters of Sailors and Coal-heavers in such numbers as to intimidate
persons into complying with their demands for money. It is but justice,
however, to add, that the real Sailors treated them with the utmost
severity when they had an opportunity of meeting with them.

The Journeymen Tailors soon after caught the combination-fever, and
collected, in humble imitation of the Seamen, in Lincoln's-inn-fields,
to proceed with a petition for redress of their _sewing_ grievances.
They too had leaders, and to those the Magistrates applied successfully
in dissuading them from their purpose; but unfortunately these helms of
the vast body were unable to swerve the many-headed monster, and yet by
the exertion of a little address the Magistrates contrived to prevail
on them to entrust the petition to a deputation of six; and the rest
dispersed.

Although the Coal-heavers and Sailors appear to have acted under the
influence of the same cause, an attempt to obtain an increase of wages,
they had become inveterate enemies before the middle of June, and
actually fought with such rancour as to use swords and fire-arms; the
consequence of which was many wounds, and several deaths, inflicted by
each party; and the newspapers even assert that seven soldiers and a
serjeant lost their lives in attempting to quell a riot in Wapping,
when twenty of the aggressors were killed.

That the reader may form a just estimate of the wicked proceedings of
some of those infatuated wretches the Coal-heavers, I shall introduce
an abstract of the trial of seven of them for shooting at John Green on
the 21st of April, 1768.

"Abstract of the Trial of John Grainger, Daniel Clark,
Richard Cornwall, Patrick Lynch, Thomas Murray, Peter
Flaharty, and Nicholas M'Cabe, for shooting at John Green
contrary to the Statute on the 21st of April last.

"John Green, living at the bottom of New Gravel-lane,
Shadwell, deposed, that he was employed as Deputy Agent
under Mr. William Russel, who, as agent appointed by Mr.
Alderman Beckford, was concerned in the execution of the
Act of Parliament for regulating Coal-heavers; that before
this they were under the direction of Justice Hodgson, and
revolted from the coal-undertakers, insisting first upon
sixteen-pence a score, and then eighteen-pence, but at last
would have nothing to do with the undertakers, and would have
their price under the Act of Parliament; that Mr. Russel and
the deponent had fixed upon an office at Billingsgate for
registering the Coal-heavers, but none of them came there;
alledging they were under the direction of Justice Hodgson,
to whom only they would apply; that the deponent was sent
with a complaint to the Justice by Mr. Russel, desiring a
meeting with him, which he excused, but would send his clerk,
and further told him, that if Mr. Russel did not desist,
he would meet with trouble, and he would give him a pretty
dance to Westminster-hall, for the Act of Parliament was in
so vague a manner that any body might keep an office, and
that as they had the best men at their office, they did not
fear to have the business; that, however, in a few days after
Mr. Russel advertised for men to come, but none came; and
then he advertised for their coming at such a time, or he
would employ such able-bodied men as chose to come, whereupon
many came, and they were put in the gangs; that Dunster,
Justice Hodgson's clerk, having seen the deponent do this at
Billingsgate, he brought to his door no less than three or
four hundred of these men, a great many of whom threatened
they would pull down his house, or they would do for him;
that the Deponent went to the Mansion-house to acquaint
the Lord Mayor of the danger he was in, and received for
answer, that he must be directed by some Magistrate in his
neighbourhood; that on Saturday morning, the 16th of April,
the Coal-heavers having put up some bills, a neighbour's
servant went and pulled one down, upon which the Coal-heavers
cried out, that Green's maid had pulled down their bills,
and then they directly came running from different parts
to his door to the amount of one hundred and upwards. The
purport, the Deponent said, of these bills was a libel on Mr.
Alderman Beckford, and what was done was Mr. Russel's own
doing.----The acts of violence committed by the Coal-heavers
against this Deponent, best appear from his own words.

"I asked them, said he, what they wanted with me; they cried,
'by Jesus they would have my life if I offered to meddle with
any of their bills;' I said I had not meddled with any, nor
none had that belonged to me; one of them cried, 'By Jesus
he shall have a bill put up at his own window;' he took up
a handful of dirt, and put it upon the window, and put the
bill upon it; another of them laid hold of my collar, and
dragged me off the step of my door; another said, 'Haul him
into the river;' said another, 'By Jesus, we will drown him.'
I got from them, and retreated back into my house. After that
I went to Billingsgate, and met several of them there; they
threatened they would have my life. When I came home, I saw
a great many of these people running from their different
habitations, some with bludgeons, or broomsticks, and weapons
of that sort; they did not collect themselves in a body, but
were running to the head of New Gravel-lane; I believe about
four or five hundred of them came within two hundred yards of
my house; they went to Mr. Metcalf, a neighbour of mine, and
threatened him; there was one of them that was a pretended
friend of mine, that had promised, when he knew of any thing
against me, he would let me know; I sat up to guard my house,
and I sent my wife and children out of the house; after that
I prevailed upon my wife to stay in the house upon this man's
intelligence; he came about twelve, and told me nothing was
intended against me, that they had done their business they
were about; I went to bed, and was asleep; I was awaked by
my sister-in-law, calling, 'Mr. Green, Mr. Green, for God's
sake, we shall be murdered;' this was about one o'clock on
the Sunday morning; I jumped out of bed, and ran into the
next room where my arms were; I took and levelled one, and
said, 'You rascals, if you do not be gone, I will shoot you;'
they were then driving at my doors and shutters, the noise
was terrible, like a parcel of men working upon a ship's
bottom; I could compare it to nothing else; I fired among
them; I believed I fired about fourteen times; and, when I
had not any thing ready to fire, I threw glass bottles upon
them; they were at this about a quarter of an hour, when
they all dispersed. On the Monday I went to Billingsgate
about eleven; I saw several of them there who threatened me;
Dunster was there also; they told me they would do for me if
I did not desist in my proceedings, which was to register
such people as applied; there were always some of the
Coal-heavers about Dunster, he talked of the advertisements
that had been in the paper, and said they were mine; for he
said Mr. Russel had told him he totally declined having any
thing to say in it, and it was my doing only; I said, 'Do not
deceive these men, that is very wrong of you;' I asked him,
if Mr. Russel did not tell him he would advertise to this
effect; I began to be afraid, and, as many of them came about
me, I left them.

"Nothing happened after till Wednesday night, that was the
20th, about seven in the evening; then I saw a great many of
these Coal-heavers assembling together, about three or four
hundred yards from my house, going up Gravel-lane. I shut
up as fast as I could, and told my wife to get out of the
house as fast as she could with her children; accordingly
she went away with the child that was asleep in the cradle;
Gilberthorp was in the house drinking a pint of beer (I did
not know his name then); said I, 'Brother tarpawling (he is a
seafaring man), I am afraid I shall have a desperate attack
to-night from what I have heard; will you stand by me, and
give me all the assistance you can?' 'Yes,' said he, 'that I
will.' When the house was secured backwards and forwards, I
went up stairs; some stones had broke some windows there; I
believe some of them had thrown stones and run away; I heard
them call out _Wilkes and Liberty_; I saw the neighbours
lighting up candles, for these people shall have no occasion
at all to use me ill. I went to the window and begged of them
to desist, and said, if they knew any thing particular of
me, I was willing to resolve any thing they wanted to know:
seeing I could not defend myself, I disguised myself, and put
on an old watch-coat and a Dutch cap, and went down stairs
in order to get a Magistrate to come and prevent my house
from being pulled down; I had one Dunderdale, a shoemaker,
that lodged in my house, he went down with me; when I came
down to the back-door, I heard them threaten they would have
me and my life; I then found it impossible to get out of
the house; I ran up stairs then, fully determined to defend
myself as long as I was able: I spoke to them again in the
street from the window, and desired them to tell me what I
had done; they called out in the street 'they would have me
and hang me over my sign-post;' others said 'they would broil
and roast me,' and words to that effect; stones came up very
fast. I then took a brace of pistols from the table, and
fired among them, loaded with powder only; after that I kept
firing away among them what arms I had loaded with bird and
swan shot; they dispersed in the front then; I immediately
ran backwards, they were heaving stones into the back chamber
windows; I fired from the back chamber windows; after I had
fired some few rounds backwards, they desisted from heaving
stones into the back part of the house, but I did not find
they had left the place. I was again attacked both in front
and back part of the house; I fired among them sometimes
from the front of my house, and sometimes from the rear; I
imagined they would have broke into the house presently, if
I had not kept a warm fire upon them; I heard them call out
several times, I am shot, I am wounded; still they said 'they
would have me, and do for me.' I had various attacks in the
night; I saw no fire-arms they had till eleven or twelve in
the night: they were driving at the door about ten, but I
cannot tell with what; I looked through the door, and saw
their hands moving, driving something hard against it. About
twelve they fired into the house, both in the front and the
rear; the balls struck the cieling in the room where I was,
sometimes close over my head; as they were in the street, and
I in the one-pair of stairs, the balls went into the cieling,
and dropped down on the floor; I could not walk about the
room with any safety, I was forced to place myself by the
wall between the windows, and sometimes I would crawl under
the window to the next, and sometimes I stood behind the
brackets; then I would stand up and drive among them like
dung; I have seen their balls strike the cieling as I have
stood under the cover of the wall, and as I have been going
to fire, they have come over my head, and some lodged in the
cieling.

"This firing continued all the night and all the morning at
different periods.

"When I attacked them backwards, I used to crawl out of the
window on my belly, and lie upon the wash-house leads with my
arms; I have heard them say, "You that have arms are to fire
upon him, and you that have stones are to heave, and so many
to break the door, and so many to climb the wall." If they
got up there, they could get in at the window from the leads.
I had Gilberthorp below to guard the door, for part of the
front door was broke. I got off, I believe, about nine in the
morning, when I had no more ammunition left, only the charge
that I had in my blunderbuss, except what was in the musket,
that would not go off; so I said to the men that were in the
house, 'You see they are firing from every quarter, there is
no help for me, they will come in, and I can make no return
upon them to check their insolence; the best way to make them
desist, is for me to get out of the house, you will all be
very safe whether I make my escape or not.' Mr. Gilberthorp
said, 'Do what you think best.' I said, 'They only want
me, if they get me it is all over, or if they know I am
gone, they will desist.' I took my blunderbuss over my arm,
and my drawn hanger in my hand, and went out of the back
window upon the leads; I saw several of them in the alley, I
levelled the blunderbuss at them, and said, 'You rascals, be
gone, or I'll blow your brains out, especially you (that was
to one under me); but I scorn to take your life.' He said,
'God bless you, Mr. Green, you are a brave man;' he clapped
his hand on his head, and ran away. I went over into Mr.
Mereton's ship-yard, one of the shipwrights met me; just as
I jumped, he said, 'Mr. Green, follow me;' he took me to a
saw-pit, and shewed me a hole at the end where the sawyers
used to put their things; he said, 'Go into that hole, you
will be safe enough;' said I, 'Don't drop a word but that I
am gone over the wall;' I got in, he left me; there I lay
till the guards came. I heard the mob search for me; some
said he is gone one way, some another; they were got into the
yard, I heard one of the shipwrights say he is gone over the
wall, and gone away by water.

"When the guards came, one of the shipwrights came to me,
and desired to know what I should do; I said, 'Go and tell
the officer to draw his men up and come into the yard, and
I will surrender myself to him.' The soldiers came, and I
came out of the saw-pit; I had nothing but my handkerchief
about my head; I had been wounded between ten and eleven at
night; I surrendered myself to the officer; Justice Hodgson
said, 'Mr. Green, you are one of the bravest fellows that
ever was; who do you intend to go before, me, or Sir John
Fielding?' I said, 'I do not care who it is;' then said he,
'you will go before me;' accordingly we went, and when I
came there he committed me to Newgate.--In the course of
this evidence it does not appear, that the deponent swore to
the identity of any of the prisoners, as engaged in the act
of firing against, or otherwise assailing his house, though
he did to some few of them threatening him at Billingsgate;
but this identity was sworn to by the next evidence, George
Crabtree, in the persons of Cornwall, David Clark or Clarey,
Lynch, Flaharty, and Grainger. The first he saw fire several
times towards Green's windows; Clark he also saw fire after
Green had shot his brother; Grainger he saw heaving a stone,
or brickbat, at Green's windows, and Lynch with a musket in
his hand, but did not see him fire. Robert Anderson swore
to Clark's and Cornwall's firing several times, as did also
Andrew Evenerus to Clark's firing. Thomas Cummings swore to
the same as committed by Flaharty, Clark, Lynch, Cornwall,
and Murray, and he particularly accused Flaharty of getting
into his own house and firing out at his garret windows.
Philip Oram and William Burgess corroborated the same as to
Cornwall; and the latter saw M'Cabe and John Grainger firing,
knowing their persons but not their names. M'Cabe asked him
for his sleeve-buttons to load a piece with to fire at
Green, and moreover examined his coat, and wanted to feel in
his pocket for something to load: M'Cabe also inquired in the
house, where he the deponent lodged, for the pewter spoons
and pots to cut them in pieces for shot, saying he would pay
for them. There were several other evidences to prove the
identity of the prisoners as concerned in this riot. Some of
the prisoners declared their innocence of the charge; others
said they were there with the design of keeping the peace,
and preventing the escape of Green, who had been guilty
of murder by firing out of his windows. Several appeared
to their character, but all seven were brought in guilty,
_Death_, and were executed the 26th of July pursuant to their
sentence."

The last disgraceful act of this turbulent æra was marked with
additional depravity: a set of Spital-fields weavers had constituted
themselves a deliberative body, and decreed that all possessors of
looms should send them a tax of four shillings each. Their place of
rendezvous was the Dolphin in Cock-lane, and their denomination the
"Cutters;" and, justly dreading the consequences of their conduct,
they were provided with swords and fire-arms, to defend themselves,
and intimidate those to whom they wrote. A Mr. Hill exhibited the
following order to the Magistrates of Bow-street in October 1769: "Mr.
Hill, you are desired to send the full donation of all your looms to
the Dolphin in Cock-lane. This from the conquering and bold Defiance
to be levied four shillings _per_ loom"--and obtained a summons for the
keeper of the Dolphin, which that person disobeyed. Officers were then
dispatched to ascertain whether the Cutters had really assembled; and
oath having been made that they were sitting, a warrant to search the
house was issued, and a Magistrate, several officers of the Police,
and a party of Soldiers, went to execute it between eight and nine
o'clock in the evening. They found this diabolical assembly in full
progress, receiving the contributions of terrified manufacturers; and
almost at the same instant received the fire of the whole number. A
soldier fell dead, and the miscreants fled over the house tops; but
four were apprehended. A detachment of the guards afterwards did duty
in the neighbourhood, and had their quarters in the Parish-church. This
precaution terminated the operations of the Cutters.

From 1776 till 1780, the inhabitants of London enjoyed a degree of
tranquillity they must have long panted for. Temporary disturbances
of the peace through sudden resentment, and the riots arising from
inebriation, are too common for recital, and are seldom heard of
beyond the parish in which they occur; but the effervescence of June
1780 spread like a torrent through every avenue of the Metropolis, and
convulsed every quarter of the Kingdom. That one man should accomplish
such an effect, and that his weapon should have been _intolerance
only_, where tolerance is one of the gems which distinguish England
from all Europe, is most astonishing. Our Legislature, acting upon the
long-approved system of religious benevolence, would have erased from
the Statute-books those restrictions which were calculated to repress
a _powerful_ enemy, and which had become useless through the lapse of
time and the cessation of hostility; yet, _Protestants_ objected, and
acted the part of tyrants and bigots marshalled by a _madman_.

When an incendiary seizes upon a real grievance, or upon the presumed
violation of any favourite point with the publick, let the peaceable
Citizen beware how he listens to his _interested_ declamations; let
him remember that his _passions may be excited_ by inflammatory
insinuations; in short, let him remember the sophistry of Lord George
Gordon; the errors of his predecessors, the cries of No Popery, the
burning of part of London, the triumph of thieves, the exaction of
money--realized in the horrors of 1780!

Had the multitude collected by the harangues of the miserable man
alluded to possessed individually a grain of sense or reflection,
they must have disbelieved his monstrous charge, that the Legislature
intended to encourage or introduce the Roman Catholic religion, or, as
he termed it, Popery. The very idea is so ridiculous that I should be
ashamed to attempt to disprove it.

Under every disadvantage which might reasonably have been supposed to
exist against the probability of raising so extensive a whirlwind of
civil commotion, the adventurous chief commenced his operations by
legally opposing the projected measures; but, fired by the homage paid
to him, Lord George Gordon conceived the vast design of leading the
whole community to the doors of Parliament with a Petition in their van
unexampled in the number of its signatures. This he accomplished; but,
observe the result: the _petitioners_ became _dictators_; the friends
of _toleration_ were insulted, and barely escaped with their lives from
a lawless mob (for to such had the petitioners degenerated); the voice
of the _leader_ was drowned in yells of _No Popery_; and the deluded
Citizen fled to his home, resigning his country to its fate, and
trembling with apprehension lest his late friends should involve _him_
in the ruin he contributed to promote.

Let us now turn a hasty glance towards those dreadful harpies who
spread through London, compelling the passenger to join in the general
exclamation or watch-word of destruction, and to wear blue cockades,
or hang badges at their doors, indicative of their detestation of
Popery; and see them employed, unmolested, burning Roman-catholick
chapels, the dwellings of members of that faith, _and the mansions of
some of our most revered Judges and Legislators_! Even the admired and
venerated Mansfield, the modern father of British law, lost his house,
his valuable papers, and barely escaped with life. Invigorated by these
scenes of horror, the ruffian emerged from his den, and filled the
place of the appalled _petitioner_: flames spread on every side, the
prisons were stormed and burnt, the convicts freed, and the metropolis
was resigned to theft and destruction by the light of the various
conflagrations.

After the intoxicated and wicked plunderers had rioted in excess till
almost exhausted by exertion and debauchery, the hitherto nerveless
arm of Government was raised, troops were poured into London, and the
civil power became less terrified; the wretches still employed in works
of horrible depravity were fired upon, many were killed and wounded,
and numbers were apprehended and committed for trial. Thus London once
more tasted the sweets of that repose, which would never have been
interrupted, had not Bigotry and Passion triumphed in breasts where
more gentle guests ought to have presided. Many vagabonds expiated
their crimes with their lives after the subsequent trial; but a far
greater number were victims to their own brutal acts, when plundering
and drinking, surrounded by fire and falling walls.

It is strange that I should be compelled to record such scenes, without
one cheering instance of manly exertion on the side of order, to
relieve the odious picture. Why did not every thing in the shape of an
honest _man_, arm in the defence of their families? Why was it that
every muscle relaxed, that every nerve trembled, in the hour of danger?
This fact cannot be satisfactorily explained.

The Riots of 1780 should close the article of popular tumult; an
occurrence so important ought to be the last scene of the Drama:
indeed it has not yet been even faintly copied, though much turbulence
prevailed in consequence of the trial of Sir Hugh Palliser, the
meetings of the Corresponding Society, the trial of Hardy, Tooke, &c.
the destruction of Crimping-houses; and, to complete the catalogue,
certain inflamed partizans dragged the Monarch from his coach when
returning from exercising one of the most important functions of his
great office: these and some other lesser acts of violence, are well
known to have originated with the frantic votaries of the French
revolution, the Republicans of England who have lived to see the
great _Republick_ of France governed by an _Emperor_, and the Empire
surrounded by Kings created by that Emperor!

FOOTNOTES:

[15:A] The liberality of sentiment which I ever have and ever shall
entertain towards Christians of every denomination, has induced me
to reprobate all acts of violence committed by them under the mask
of Religion. Passages of my former publications similar to the above
have induced certain narrow-minded men to assert that I am a _Roman
Catholic_. Were that the fact, I fancy some other articles written
by me might be pointed out, which would obtain for me pretty severe
penance from my Confessor. Good criticks, be assured I was baptized,
and have ever been, an unworthy member of the Church of England, and am
actually a descendant of Cranmer, who died to establish that faith.

[16:A] This subject may be allowed to be familiar to me, and I have
perhaps had more than common means of judging; and I now declare it to
be my full and decided opinion that London was burnt by Government,
to _annihilate the plague_, which was grafted in every crevice of the
hateful old houses composing it.

[51:A] Addressed to a Society at Jonah's Coffee-house.

[54:A] Since writing the above Mr. Nichols pointed out to me the
following article from the Gentleman's Magazine for 1757, p. 386, which
is a sufficient explanation of the outrage:

"Aug. 10, 1757. Early this morning Mr. Hartley, a seafaring
gentleman, was found dead in the area of a house of ill fame in
Southampton-street, Covent-garden. He had been drinking with some
sailors at their house of rendezvous near Westminster Bridge, and in
his way home wanted to stop at the house above mentioned, but was
denied admittance; on which he attempted to break the windows with
his cane, but that dropping into the area, he jumped down after it,
fractured his skull, and died without speaking a word. Since this
accident happened great numbers of people have assembled with a design
to pull the house down (_the Craven Arms_), many of whom have been
wounded, and 14 sent to the round-house in one night. The people had a
notion that the house was Justice Fielding's, and that he protected it;
and it was found necessary to undeceive them, by advertising that it
belongs to a charity in Southwark."

CHAP. VII.

AMUSEMENT--DETAIL OF ITS PRINCIPAL VARIETIES SINCE 1700.

Many pursuits called amusements will be found in this section which the
Moralist must term _Crimes_.

When the reader has traced the endeavours of the last century in the
art of killing time, as related in this volume, he cannot but agree
with me that a laughing is better than a sullen and ferocious age.

Concerts of vocal and instrumental musick were held as at present
at the commencement of the century, and patronised by Ladies of
distinction.

"_The great room_" in York-buildings was used for this purpose; and
benefits were appointed for Mrs. Hudson and Mr. Williams, March 20,
1700.

A Concerto was held at the Theatre in Dorset-gardens April 24, 1700,
with a most curious accompaniment, in order to amuse the auditors
optically as well as auricularly. Joseph Thomas, master of the noble
science of defence, had challenged or been challenged by a Mr. Jones,
who came from North Wales, in order to decide whose skill was superior;
after a trial before many of the nobility and gentry the palm was
assigned to Mr. Jones.

While the superior ranks were thus employing their leisure hours, the
_canaille_ had their amusements, perhaps not _quite_ so refined, but
equally palatable to them. The following advertisement will explain
one description of those, probably entirely forgotten by the oldest
inhabitant now living: April 27, 1700. "In Brookfield Market-place,
at the East corner of Hyde-park, is a fair to be kept for the space
of _sixteen_ days, beginning the first of May. The first three days
for live Cattle and Leather, _with the same entertainments as at
Bartholomew-fair_; where there is shops to be let ready built for all
manner of tradesmen that usually keep fairs; and so to continue yearly
at the same time and place."

The present Tunbridge-wells, or Islington Spa, was in full favour
with the publick, and opened for the Summer on the 5th of May. The
proprietors admitted dances during the whole of the day on Mondays and
Thursdays, provided they did not appear in Masks, for whom musick was
provided. In this instance, it may be worthy of remark, we have no
parallel at present; and happily none for the Bear-garden at Hockley in
the Hole, where the infamous part of the community were _entertained_
with battles between eminent professors of the art of fencing, and
sometimes with five pair of young men exhibiting together proofs of
skill and strength.

"_At his Majesty's_ Bear-garden in Hockley in the Hole: a trial of
skill to be performed to-morrow, being the 10th instant (July 1700), at
three in the afternoon, between John Bowler of the City of Norwich, and
Champion of Norfolk, Master of the noble science of defence, and Will
of the West, from the City of Salisbury, Master of the said science of
defence."

The trumpet, always a favourite instrument with the publick, was then
used only by persons licensed by the Serjeant Trumpeter, who received
upon conviction one shilling _per_ day from those who performed without
a licence, which William Shore, Serjeant, assured the publick should
be given to the poor, as the fines had been by his father, whom he
succeeded in the office. These instruments are now used by persons
who wish to attract notice at Puppet-shews, Bartholomew-fair, &c.;
the amusements peculiar to which can only be caught by an attentive
examination of the periodical publications of the day. An article
in one of those, dated August 6, 1700, mentions: "The lessees of
West-Smithfield having on Friday last represented to a Court of
Aldermen at Guildhall, that it would be highly injurious to them to
have the erection of all booths there _totally prohibited_, the right
honourable Lord Mayor and the Court of Aldermen have, on consideration
of the premises, _granted licence to erect some_ booths during the
time of Bartholomew-fair now approaching; _but none_ are permitted for
_Music booths_, or any that may be a means to promote debauchery." On
the 23d of the same month the Lord Mayor went on horseback to proclaim
the Fair, when he ordered two booths erected for the performance of
Musick to be taken down immediately.

An anniversary celebration of Musick was held on St. Cecilia's day at
Stationers'-hall in 1700 by a Society of Gentlemen; but whether those
amateurs performed themselves, or hired performers, does not appear.

Certain persons felt great displeasure at the public amusements of
the day; and at length that displeasure found vent in the presentment
of the Grand Jury of Middlesex: "We the Grand Jury of the County
of Middlesex do present, that the Plays which are frequently acted
in the play-houses in Drury-lane and Lincoln's-Inn-fields in this
County are full of prophane, irreverent, lewd, indecent, and immoral
expressions, and tend to the great displeasure of Almighty God, and
to the corruption of the auditory both in their principles and their
practices. We also present, that the common acting of plays in the
said play-houses very much tend to the debauching and ruining the
youth resorting thereto, and to the breach of the peace, and are the
occasions of many riots, routs, and disorderly assemblies, whereby
many murders and other misdemeanors have been frequently done, and
particularly the barbarous murder of Sir Andrew Slanning, which was
very lately committed as he came out of one of the said play-houses;
and further that the common acting of plays at the said play-houses
is a public nuisance. As also the Bear-garden in Hockley in the Hole,
in the parish of St. John's Clerkenwell, in the said County, to be of
the like nuisance. We hope this honourable Court will use the most
effectual and speedy means for the suppressing thereof."

The minor offenders were noticed as follows, in "The presentment of
the Grand Jury sworn for the City of London at Justice-hall in the Old
Bailey the 4th day of June 1701, and in the 13th year of the reign of
our Sovereign Lord King William III. of England, &c.

"This honourable Court, having taken notice in the admirable Charge
given to us of the great advantages which this City hath received
from the zeal and industry of those gentlemen and citizens, who in
and about this City are concerned in Societies for the promoting
more effectually the execution of the Laws against profaneness and
debauchery, in pursuance to his Majesty's proclamations, and who have
received the public approbation of many persons in high stations in
Church and State: we the Grand Jury of this City do think it becomes
us to return our hearty thanks to those worthy persons who are thus
engaged in Societies for the promoting a reformation of manners, so
absolutely necessary to our welfare; and we hope their engaging so
heartily in this noble design will be an encouragement to others to
join with them for the effecting a more general reformation.

"We having observed the late boldness of a sort of men that stile
themselves masters of the noble science of defence, passing through
this City, with beat of drums, colours displayed, swords drawn, with
a numerous company of people following them, dispersing their printed
bills, thereby inviting persons to be spectators of those inhuman
sights, which are directly contrary to the practice and profession of
the Christian Religion, whereby barbarous principles are instilled in
the minds of men: we think ourselves obliged to represent this matter
to this honourable Court, that some effectual method may be speedily
taken to prevent their free passage through the City, in such a
tumultuous manner, on so unwarrantable a design."

"Whereas we have seen a printed order of the Lord Mayor and Court of
Aldermen the 25th June, 1700, to prevent the great profaneness, vice,
and debauchery, so frequently used and practised in Bartholomew Fair,
by strictly charging and commanding all persons concerned in the said
Fair, and in the sheds and booths to be erected and built therein, or
places adjacent, that they do not let, set, hire, or use, any booth,
shed, stall, or other erection whatsoever, to be used or employed for
interludes, stage-plays, comedies, gaming-places, lotteries, or music
meetings[113:A]: and as we are informed the present Lord Mayor and
Court of Aldermen have passed another order to the same effect on the
3d instant, we take this occasion to return our most hearty thanks for
their religious care and great zeal in this matter; we esteeming a
renewing their former practices at the Fair a continuing one of the
chiefest nurseries of vice next to the play-houses; therefore earnestly
desire that the said orders may be most vigorously prosecuted, and
that this honourable Court would endeavour that the said Fair may be
employed to those good ends and purposes it was at first designed."

These Juries omitted noticing a most barbarous _amusement_ which
prevailed to great excess, as will appear by the ensuing advertisements
issued in the same year: "At the Royal Cockpit on the South side of St.
James's-park, on Tuesday the 11th of this instant February, will begin
a very great Cock-match; and will continue all the week; wherein most
of the considerablest Cockers of England are concerned. There will be a
battle down upon the Pit every day precisely at three o'clock, in order
to have done by day-light. Monday the 9th instant March will begin
a great match of Cock-fighting betwixt the Gentlemen of the City of
Westminster and the Gentlemen of the City of London for six guineas a
battle, and one hundred guineas the odd battle, and the match continues
all the week, in Red-Lion-fields."

In the following April another match commenced, to continue for a week,
at four guineas a battle, and forty guineas the odd battle, between the
Gentlemen of London, and those of Warwickshire, at the new Cockpit
behind Gray's-Inn-walks.

The presentments were, however, of some service, as the proprietors
of the Bear-garden advertised subsequently "_without beat of drum_."
Wrestling was exhibited by them, and the prizes were gloves at two
shillings and sixpence _per_ pair. Lambeth-wells opened on Easter
Mondays, and had public days on Mondays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, with
musick from seven in the morning till sunset; on other days till two.
The price of admission was three pence; the water one penny _per_ quart
to the affluent, and _gratis_ to the poor.

The good people at Bartholomew Fair were entertained in 1701 by a
Tiger, who had been taught to pick a fowl's feathers from the body.
This feat seems to have roused the proprietors of the Theatre in
Lincoln's-Inn-fields; and they immediately, "at the desire of several
persons of quality," exhibited "that delightful exercise of vaulting on
the managed horse according to the Italian manner," after the play of
the Country Wife.

Amongst the variety of amusements with which London has abounded,
public exhibitions may be fairly included. The first upon record
within the century appears to have been certain models representing
William the Third's palaces at Loo, Keswick, and Hunslaerdike: those
were shown in 1701 from ten in the morning till one, and from two
till eight at night, "at the White head near Pall-Mall facing the
Haymarket, _within two doors of the glass lamps_." The proprietors
elegantly observe in their advertisement, that they were "brought over
lately by _outlandish_ men;" and that, "to render those diversions
altogether more delightful and acceptable, there will be a collection
of several curiosities to be sold and raffled for at the opening, and
likewise every Monday and Friday following, those days being appointed
the public raffling-days, besides a great variety of rarities: and to
entertain the nobility and gentry (who, the undertakers hope, will
countenance them with the honour of their company) there shall be on
Wednesday the 14th instant (January) a _concert_ of musick by the best
performers; and if all these diversions please such for whom they are
intended, there shall be from time to time great additions made."

However pleasing and moral the Stage may be at present, we are in great
measure indebted to our Ancestors for the improvements which have taken
place. In the reign of Charles II. the licence permitted to Dramatic
Authors was indecent and infamous in the extreme, and the profane and
immoral expressions inserted in many plays really rendered the use of
masks necessary for those ladies who possessed the least delicacy of
sentiment.

In 1701-2 another and effectual effort was made to reform this evil,
by a prosecution instituted in the Court of King's-bench, and tried
before Lord Chief Justice Holt. The Jury on this occasion found the
players of Lincoln's-Inn-fields play-house guilty of uttering impious,
lewd, and immoral expressions.

In April 1702, an advertisement appeared in the papers, inviting the
publick to see the skeleton of a Whale then lately caught in the
Thames, which the proprietors had carefully scraped and put together in
the field near King-street, Bloomsbury. They asserted that one bone of
his head weighed 40 cwt. The price of admission was threepence.

This stupendous exhibition accompanied another of the model of
Amsterdam, which almost vied with it in size: the length was between
twenty and thirty feet, the breadth twenty; and the artist or artists
were occupied twelve years in completing it. The place of exhibition
was Bell-yard, Fleet-street.

May Fair opened this year with the usual _splendid_ entertainments,
and, if the managers of these elegant diversions were to be credited,
with more than common _eclat_. There was Mr. Miller's booth "over
against" Mr. Barnes the rope-dancer's, where was "presented an
excellent droll called Crispin and Crispianus, or a Shoemaker a Prince,
with the best machines, singing, and dancing _ever yet in the Fair_."
This and other excellent performances attracted the lasses and lads
of London, whose spirits, exhilarated by the season from which the
Fair was named, met in vast numbers, and with them the thief and the
prostitute, who, as usual, did not permit the attractions of _drolls_
to _divert_ them from business: indeed they were so extremely active
in their vocations, that the Magistrates thought proper to thin the
number of the latter by commitments; but in the execution of this plan
the Constables were resisted by a set of Soldiers, who determined to
protect the _Fair_, which they did in such serious earnest, that Mr.
John Cooper, one of the peace-officers, lost his life, and in due time
was buried at St. James's Church Westminster, where a Funeral Sermon
was preached by Josiah Woodward, D. D. Minister of Poplar Chapel,
before the Justices, High Constable, &c. and which he published at
their request. The Observator, a paper published twice a week at that
period, says ironically of May Fair; "Oh the piety of some people about
the Queen; who can suffer things of this nature to go undiscovered to
her Majesty, and consequently unpunished! Can any rational man imagine
that her Majesty would permit so much lewdness as is committed at May
Fair for so many days together so near her Royal Palace, if she knew
any thing of the matter? I do not believe the patent for that Fair
allows the Patentees the liberty of setting up the _Devil's shops_,
and exposing his merchandise to sale; _nor was there ever one Fair
or Market in England constituted for this purpose_. But this Fair is
kept contrary to Law, and in defiance of Justice; for the last Fair,
when the Civil Magistrate came to keep the Queen's peace there, one
Constable was killed, and three others wounded." The man who committed
the above murder escaped, and a butcher of Gloucester was hanged for
the crime; but the real culprit finally suffered: and thus tragically
ended the Fair of May 1702.

Mr. Pawlet had a great dancing-room near Dowgate, Thames-street; hither
the gay were invited to a "_Consort_" produced by violins, hautboys,
flutes, and _a trumpet_, with singing. The admission 1_s._ 6_d._

The following quotation from the first number of "The Secret Mercury,"
published September 9, 1702, gives a better idea of one of the
Drolls or Interludes of the day than any I have previously met with:
"Wednesday September 2, having _padlocked my pockets_, and trimmed
myself with Hudibras from head to foot, I set out about six for
Bartholomew Fair; and, having thrown away _substantial silver_ for
visionary Theatrical entertainment, I made myself ready for the Farce;
but I had scarce composed myself when bolts me _into the Pit_ a bully
beau," &c. &c. "The curtain drew, and discovered a nation of beauish
machines; their motions were so starched, that I began to question
whether I had mistaken myself and Dogget's booth for a Puppet-shew. As
I was debating the matter, they advanced toward the front of the stage,
and making a halt began a singing so miserably, that I was forced to
tune my own whistle in romance ere my brains were set strait again.
All the _secret_ I could for my life discover in the whole grotesque
was the consistency or drift of the piece, which I could never
demonstrate to this hour. At last all the childish parade shrunk off
the stage by matter and motion, and enter a _hobletehoy_ of a dance,
and Dogget in old woman's petticoats and red waistcoat, as like Progue
Cock as ever man saw; it would have made a Stoick split his lungs, if
he had seen the temporary harlot sing and weep both at once; a true
emblem of a woman's tears. When these Christmas carols were over,
enter a _wooden_ horse; now I concluded we should have the ballad of
Troy-town, but I was disappointed in the scene, for a dancing-master
comes in, begins a complimenting the horse, and fetching me three or
four run-bars with his arm (as if he would have mortified the ox at
one blow) takes a frolick upon the back of it, and translates himself
into cavalry at one bound: all I could clap was the _patience_ of
the beast. However, having played upon him about half a quarter, the
conqueror was pursued with such a clangor from the crusted clutches of
the mob in the _sixpenny place_, that for five minutes together I was
tossed on this dilemma, that either a man had not five senses, or I
was no man. The stage was now overrun with nothing but Merry Andrews
and Pickle-herrings. This Mountebank scene was removed at last, and I
was full of expectation the successor would be Pills, Pots of Balsam,
and Orvietan; but, alas, they were but half Empiricks, and therefore
_Exeunt omnes_."

From several circumstances it appears that, notwithstanding the
proclamation and feeble exertions of the Corporation of London, these
interludes were openly performed in Smithfield: and that the Governors
of St. Bartholomew's Hospital actually permitted prostitutes to walk
the Cloisters. One of the "Secret Mercuries" has this expression:
"Well, I shall catch you _in the Cloysters_;" but the Observator of
August 21, 1703, sets the matter beyond doubt: "Does this Market of
lewdness tend to any thing else but the ruin of the bodies, souls,
and estates, of the young men and women of the City of London, who
here meet with all the temptations to destruction? The lotteries to
ruin their estates; the drolls, comedies, interludes, and farces, to
poison their minds with motions of lust; _and in the Cloisters_ (those
conscious scenes of polluted amours) in the evening they strike the
bargain to finish their ruin. What strange medley of lewdness has that
place not long since afforded! Lords and ladies, aldermen and their
wives, squires and fidlers, citizens and rope-dancers, jack-puddings
and lawyers, mistresses and maids, masters and prentices! This is not
an ark, like Noah's, which received the clean and unclean; only the
_unclean_ beasts enter this ark, and such as have the Devil's livery on
their backs." And in another paper he says, "they'll raffle with the
punks in the Cloysters."

The reader will pardon the introduction of the substance of an
advertisement inserted in the Postman, August 19, 1703, by Barnes and
Finley, who, after the usual exordium of _their_ superior excellence,
mention that the spectator will "see my _Lady Mary_ perform such
curious steps on the _dancing rope_, &c. &c." This lady Mary is
subsequently noticed in Heraclitus Ridens, No. 7, by Earnest, who
says, "Look upon the old gentleman; his eyes are fixed upon my lady
Mary: Cupid has shot him as dead as a Robin. Poor Heraclitus! he has
cried away all his moisture, and is such a dotard to entertain himself
with a prospect of what is meat for his betters; wake him out of his
lethargy, and tell him the young noblemen and senators will take it
amiss, if a man of his years makes pretensions to what is more than a
match for their youth. Those, &c. &c. and roguish eyes have brought her
more admirers than ever Jenny Bolton had; it is a pity, say I, she has
no more manners, and less ill-nature." Chetwood, in his History of the
Stage, mentions a Lady _Isabella_, which name, writing from memory, he
has evidently mistaken for Mary, who was the daughter of noble parents
inhabitants of Florence, where they immured her in a Nunnery; but, most
fruitlessly careful of their beautiful offspring, she accidentally saw
a Merry Andrew, who unfortunately saw her; in consequence of which a
clandestine intercourse took place, an elopement followed, and finally
this villain taught her his infamous tricks, which she exhibited for
his profit till vice had made her his own; as Heraclitus proves. The
catastrophe of the Lady Mary was dreadful; her _husband_, impatient of
delays or impediments to profit, either permitted or commanded her to
exhibit on the rope when eight months had elapsed in her pregnancy:
encumbered by her weight, she fell, never more to rise; her infant was
born on the stage, and died a victim with its Mother.

Mr. Abel advertised a concert and dancing at Covent Garden Theatre for
Tuesday December 29, 1702: the performers, himself, Monsieur l'Abbé,
Mr. Isaac's _scholar_, and others. The galleries were let for the
benefit of the proprietors of the Playhouse.

Hitherto we have had to notice amusements which involved the performers
in little corporeal injury, unless from accidents, or sudden quarrels.
I shall now introduce an _entertainment_ the very zest of which
consisted in a great number of broken pates. "At the White Horse at
_Bristol_ Causeway (now denominated Brixton) in Surrey, three miles
from London in the road to Croydon, will be a Hat played for at
Cudgels, on the 23d of April, 1703; the Country against the Londoners.
_He that breaks most heads_ to have the hat; he that plays puts in
sixpence." Smock-races were run at this elegant place of resort "by
young women and maids," to the utter disgrace of the neighbouring
Magistracy.

The year 1703 produced a new source of amusement, which is noticed by
_Tutchin_ in the Observator: "But I have some Play-house news to tell
you: the great Play-house has calved a young one in Goodman's fields,
in the passage by the Ship Tavern betwixt Prescot and Chambers-street.
_Observator_--It is in a very good place in Rosemary-lane precinct; I
know no reason why the quality at both ends of the town should not have
the same diversions. This will be a great ease to the Ladies of Rag
Fair, who are now forced to trudge as far as Lincoln's-inn-fields to
mix themselves with quality. The mumpers of Knockvargis will now have
the Playhouse come to them, who were not able to stump it to the other
end of the town on their wooden legs: the Does in Tower-hill Park and
Rosemary-lane purlieu will be foddered nearer home this winter; and
the sailors will have better entertainment for their loose coins than
formerly."

The Grand Jury of Middlesex presented May Fair in November 1703. And
early in the ensuing year, the public mind had been so influenced by
the dreadful storm of November, the effects of which were felt in
every direction, that prelates, the clergy, authors, and in short all
men of virtue, joined in one grand exclamation against the obscenity,
the immorality, and the blasphemy of the stage, which its most ardent
admirers must admit to have arrived at such a height as fully warranted
an order from the Queen to restrain it. At the same period the Lord
Mayor and Aldermen issued a proclamation, forbidding the cruel practice
of throwing at Cocks on Shrove Tuesday; and the Tatler of April 18,
1709, mentions the total abolition of May Fair as far as related to the
exhibition of puppets, and similar contemptible traps for the vulgar.

The Theatre in the Haymarket was opened in 1705, when these strange and
almost impious lines were pronounced as part of the Prologue:

"Such was our Builder's art, that, soon as nam'd,
This fabrick, like the infant World, was fram'd:
The Architect must on dull order wait,
But 'tis the Poet only can create.
In the good age of ghostly ignorance,
How did Cathedrals rise, and zeal advance;
But now that pious pageantry no more,
And Stages thrive as Churches did before."

By Dr. GARTH.

The Theatre in Dorset Garden was taken down about 1709, and the site
immediately afterwards converted into a wood-yard and saw-pit.

Firing at marks formed part of the amusement of a certain class of
people in 1709; and prizes were offered of various descriptions,
particularly one at Islington of a pair of doe-skin breeches worth
3_l._ The terms for the privilege of firing were a subscription of one
shilling each by sixty men.

A most tragical occurrence happened in September 1709, at that polite
place of resort the Bear-garden at Hockley in the Hole. Christopher
Preston, keeper of the Garden, had taught his Bears every thing but
forgiveness of injuries; and this he experienced, at an unguarded
moment, by an attack from one, who not only killed, but almost devoured
him, before his friends were aware of the fact.

In 1710 the publick were offered an exhibition something similar to
the modern moving picture at Vauxhall; it was shown for sixpence and
a shilling opposite Cecil-street in the Strand, and represented ships
sailing out of port, a coach passing over a bridge leading to a city, a
cart drawn by two horses with a woman in it, and many other things.

Matches at Cricket were played for many years on Tuesdays, Thursdays,
and Saturdays, at the Duke of Ormond's head near Lamb's Conduit-fields.

The Tatler of April 25, 1710, advertises a Pastoral Mask to be
performed at York-buildings on the 27th, composed by Mr. Clayton, and
for his benefit, who is there said to have introduced the Italian Opera
into England.

Mr. Winstanley had a "_Water Theatre_," distinguished by a _Windmill_
on the summit in Piccadilly near Hyde-park, "wherein was shewn the
greatest curiosities in water-works, the like being never performed
by any." The hours of exhibition were from five to six o'clock every
evening in June and July 1710, for his widow's benefit. This gentleman
had a house at Littlebury, Essex, where some experiments in Hydraulicks
were exhibited for money.

The following notice was issued in August, "that a Gold Ring is to be
danced for on the 31st instant, and a Hat to be played for at skittles
the next day following, at the Green-gate in Gray's walks, near
Lambeth-wells."

The Bowling-green and Cockpit behind Gray's-Inn garden were advertised
for sale or to be let in 1710; but, though the publick seem thus to
have lost one place of resort, Punch's Opera, under the direction of
Powell, was opened at the same time at the _end_ of Lichfield-street,
where the prices of admission were, boxes 2_s._ pit 1_s._ gallery 6_d._
This exhibition must have been something like the modern Fantoccini;
the figures were dressed in character; and one of the performances was
"The History of chaste Susannah."

A new Cockpit and Bowling-green were opened in March 1711 behind
Gray's-Inn gardens; the Gentlemen of Essex against all Britain, at ten
guineas a battle, and 500 the odd battle.

That the reader may not be bewildered by my conjectures as to the real
nature of the entertainment described in the following advertisement,
I shall transcribe it _verbatim_ from the original Spectator, No. 46:
"Mr. Penkethman's (I suppose the actor of that time, 1711) wonderful
invention called The Pantheon, or the Temple of the Heathen Gods, the
work of several years and great expence, is now perfected; being a most
surprising and magnificent machine, consisting of five several curious
pictures, the painting and contrivance whereof is beyond expression
admirable: the figures, which are above an hundred, and move their
heads, legs, arms, and fingers so exactly to what they perform, and
setting one foot before another like living creatures, that it justly
deserves to be esteemed the greatest wonder of the age. To be seen
from ten in the morning till ten at night, in the Little Piazzas,
Covent-garden, in the same house where Punch's Opera is, price 1_s._
6_d._, 1_s._, and the lowest 6_d._"

The room in Spring-garden now used as a Toy-shop, and for various
exhibitions, was a Masquerade-room in 1711; which amusement was
afforded for half a guinea _per_ ticket, and a concert included. No
person admitted unmasked or armed.

St. George's-fields abounded with gardens, where the lower classes met
to drink and smoke tobacco; but those were not their only amusements.
Mr. Shanks near Lambeth-marsh contrived to assemble his customers
in 1711 with a grinning match. The prize was a gold-laced hat, and
the competitors were exhilarated by musick and dancing: the hour of
exhibition twelve at noon, and the admission 6_d._ At six o'clock
the same. And every evening another portion of the same class were
delighted with contortions of a different description, which had
however the sanction of antiquity; posture-masters are represented in
the illuminations of very antient MSS. and in attitudes described in
the following advertisement: "At the Duke of Marlborough's-head in
Fleet-street, in the great room is to be seen the famous Posture-master
of Europe, who far exceeds the deceased posture-masters Clarke and
Higgins; he extends his body into all deformed shapes, makes his hip
and shoulder-bones meet together, lays his head upon the ground, and
turns his body round twice or thrice without stirring his face from the
place; stands upon one leg, and extends the other in a perpendicular
line half a yard above his head, and extends his body from a table with
his head a foot below his heels, having nothing to balance his body
but his feet; with several other postures too tedious to mention."

Queen Anne was prevailed upon in 1711 to issue her proclamation to
the ensuing purport: "Whereas we are informed that the orders we have
already given for the reformation of the Stage, by not permitting any
thing to be acted contrary to Religion or good manners, have in great
measure had the good effect we proposed; and being further desirous
to reform all other indecencies and disorders of the Stage: Our will
and pleasure therefore is, and we do hereby strictly command, that no
person, of what quality soever, presume to stand behind the scenes, or
come upon the Stage, either before or during the acting of any Opera or
Play; and that no person come into either of our houses for Opera or
Comedy without paying first the established prices for their respective
places. All which orders we strictly command the managers of both
our Opera and Comedy to see exactly observed and obeyed; and if any
persons whatsoever shall disobey this our known pleasure and command,
we shall proceed against them as contemners of our Royal authority, and
disturbers of the public peace." _Gazette, Nov. 15, 1711._

It was in the latter part of the above year that the Spectator first
noticed the _Trunk-maker_, a person who appears to have possessed great
critical knowledge in theatrical affairs, which he evinced by violent
blows aimed at the benches and wainscot of the upper-gallery; in short,
according to the accounts of that valuable paper, his judicious manner
of bestowing approbation with his stick soon made him a popular leader
in criticism, and the arbitrator of applause.

The tradesmen who furnished the several materials necessary for
the performance of the Opera in the Haymarket 1710, supported by
a subscription from the Nobility, &c. were not paid their several
demands by December 1711; in consequence of which they advertised
an intended general meeting to concert measures for petitioning the
Lord Chamberlain, or commencing law-suits against the Manager, who
peremptorily refused payment, although the articles obtained were in
constant use.

The following advertisement appeared at the same time: "Mr. Rich and
others having petitioned her Majesty against an order for silencing of
acting Plays, Operas, &c. under the patents granted by King Charles
II. and touching a forcible entry made by Mr. Collier into the Theatre
Royal; the matters of which having been referred to her Majesty's
Attorney and Solicitor-general to examine; it is said they have made
their report of the facts, and of the right of Mr. Rich and other
petitioners under the Patents being a franchise in fee; and that
speedy application will be made to her Majesty in Council to determine
the same. The Town seems very desirous to have two companies, to
emulate one the other, and create more variety of theatrical diversions
without raising the price."

Almost immediately after Messrs. Clayton, Haym, and Dieupart, prevailed
upon the Authors of the Spectator to insert the ensuing notice, from
which it may be inferred that they had in some degree baffled their
own designs in introducing the Italian Opera: "Mr. Spectator, You will
forgive us professors of musick, if we make a second application to
you, in order to promote our design of exhibiting entertainments of
musick in York-buildings. It is industriously insinuated, that our
intention is to destroy Operas in general; but we beg of you to insert
this plain explanation of ourselves in your paper. Our purpose is only
to improve our circumstances by improving the art which we profess; we
see it utterly destroyed at present, and as we were the persons who
introduced Operas, we think it a groundless imputation that we should
set up against the Opera in itself: what we pretend to assert is,
that the songs of different authors injudiciously put together, and a
foreign tone and manner which are expected in every thing now performed
amongst us, has put musick itself to a stand; insomuch that the ears
of the people cannot now be entertained with any thing but what has
an impertinent gaiety without any just spirit, or a languishment of
notes without any passion or common sense. We hope those persons of
sense and quality who have done us the honour to subscribe will not be
ashamed of their patronage towards us; and not receive impressions that
patronising us is being for or against the Opera, but truly promoting
their own diversions in a more just and elegant manner than has been
hitherto performed."

There was an established Cockpit in Prescot-street, Goodman's-fields,
1712: there the Gentlemen of the East entertained themselves, while
the Nobles and others of the West were entertained by the edifying
exhibition of the agility of their running footmen. His Grace of
Grafton declared _his_ man was unrivaled in speed; and the Lord
Cholmondeley betted him 500 guineas that _his_ excelled even the
unrivaled: accordingly the ground was prepared for a two-mile heat in
Hyde-park; the race was run, _and one of the parties was victor_, but
_which_ my informant does not say.

In the same month a curious Brass Gun was advertised to be shot for at
Hoxton: it was in the shape of a walking-cane, and might be used as gun
or pistol, contained a telescope, a dial on the head, and a perpetual
almanack.

The Spectator, No. 436, enables us to form a correct idea of the brutal
sports of the Bear-garden--the Theatre for the double exhibition of
natural brutes and the degeneracy of human nature. The ridiculous
movements of the bear appear to have been too innocent an amusement
for the populace; they therefore gave place to pugilism and fighting
with swords: the latter _diversions_ were certainly countenanced by the
customs of the Antients; but the tyranny of their government and the
ferocious nature of their people were palliatives that Englishmen could
not plead. Their emperors and senates erected stupendous amphitheatres
for public games; youths were tutored from infancy for gladiators, and
slaves fought for the entertainment of their masters; the populace
were used to see gashes, blood, and death, nay to see criminals rot in
their streets; and the males hardened female feelings by their military
plunder of and cruelty to the surrounding nations. But the British
populace knew not of those horrible proceedings; and most probably
Miller and Buck were ignorant that a Roman state ever existed. We
therefore cannot but be surprised, that so many years were suffered to
elapse before the vigilance of the Magistracy was roused to suppress
the hateful wickedness of a few miscreants who had it in their power to
attract men around a stage to view their fellow-citizens endeavouring
to maim each other; but, however disgusting the recollection that such
things have been, we must rejoice that no Serjeant _now_ dare offer, or
Human Butcher receive, a challenge similar to the following:

"I James Miller, serjeant (lately come from the frontiers of Portugal),
master of the noble science of defence, hearing in most places where I
have been of the great fame of Timothy Buck of London, master of the
said science, do invite him to meet me, and exercise at the several
weapons following: back-sword, sword and dagger, sword and buckler,
single falchon, case of falchons, quarter-staff."

The author of the above paper declares he witnessed the combat the
challenge occasioned; and I shall endeavour to shew it to the reader
in its true colours, divested of that romantic and chivalric air with
which it is glossed in the paper alluded to. Two drummers, whose bodies
were disfigured by the wounds they had received in battle, preceded the
challenger, a stout athletic man with a blue ribband tied round his
right arm, accompanied by a fell dæmon, a _second_ or friend, one who
is described as bearing in his breast that malice which darted amongst
the crowd through his organs of sight, the _crowd_ whose eagerness had
arisen to frenzy; keen expectation marked their features and convulsed
their limbs, motion impelled motion, the stout overwhelmed the weak,
the tallest the short, impatience and anger prompted removals, and
instantly a grand transfer of places ensued: the spectators rushed
from the gallery into the area, and from the area into the gallery;
and confusion reigned triumphant till Buck appeared, when all was
hushed. Now observe the picture: the combatants, stripped to their
shirts, _shake hands_ to show that they kill each other in _good will_,
and prepare to injure and defend. Turn to the spectators, examine their
breasts, what is the result?--Humanity? Pity? Fear? Horror? No: those
passions would have rendered the Bear-garden desolate. The painter
finds but one dreadful chaos, a compound of features expressive of
eagerness, partiality, and hope; not that Miller or Buck may escape
injury, but that Buck may conquer Miller, or Miller Buck. Mark the
issue: Miller has received a dreadful cut in the forehead, and his eyes
stream with blood. Who leaps upon the stage to staunch it, or part the
fiends?--no one. What then succeeds?--a _yell of satisfaction, a huzza
from the crowd_. But, not to dwell on this horrible scene, a gash on
Miller's left leg terminated the combat. "The wound was exposed to the
view of all who could delight in it, _and sewed up on the stage_." One
solitary female shed tears for Miller, and hid her face; but, my author
seems to hint, her humanity was selfish.

A far more innocent amusement was announced directly after the
battle, in No. 533. Mr. Clinch of Barnet entertained the publick at
the Queen's-arms tavern, Ludgate-hill, for one shilling each, by
imitations with his voice of the Flute, double Curtel, the Organ with
three voices, the Horn, Huntsman, and Pack of Hounds, the Bells, &c. &c.

Dawks's News-letter of April 2, 1713, has the following article:
"Yesterday a trial of skill was fought at the Bear-garden between
Henry Clements and Parks of Coventry, _where there was good sport,
hacking and hewing_. It is thought they got 50_l._ apiece, the French
ambassador being there, _and giving them money very liberally_." Soon
after three bouts "at threshing flail" were announced; and a flourish
of "no cut, no bout."

A Renter's share in Drury-lane Theatre was advertised for sale June
1714 (a 36th) the terms 170_l._ for 23 years: 2_s. per_ night for
acting days, and free admission.

The Weekly Packet of Nov. 6 says, "Christopher Rich, Esq. the patentee
of the Playhouse, and a great encourager of poetical performances, died
two days since without seeing his new Theatre in Lincoln's-inn-fields
perfected, which is left to the care, with other legacies, of his
eldest son Mr. John Rich." The same paper adds, Nov. 13, that Mr. Rich,
driven from the Theatre of Drury lane by his rebellious subjects, was
buried at St. Andrew's Holborn from his house adjoining the King's
Theatre, accompanied by several of those who had resisted his authority
when living.

And in the publication of December 18, is the following paragraph:
"This day the new Playhouse in Lincoln's-inn-fields is to be opened,
and a comedy acted there called _The Recruiting Officer_ by the company
that act under the patent, though it is said that some of the gentlemen
who have left the house in Drury-lane for that service are ordered
to return to their colours, upon pain of not exercising their lungs
elsewhere; which may in time prove of ill service to the patentee, that
has been at vast expence to make his Theatre as convenient for the
reception of an audience as any one can possibly be."

The King and his Family were either really or _politically_ partial to
Drury-lane, in preference to the Italian Opera; and visited the former
frequently.

The King's licence under the great seal was granted, in January 1715,
to Richard Steele, Esq. to form and keep a company of Comedians, to be
styled "The Royal Company of Comedians."

The Evening Post of March 19, 1715, announced, "On Monday next the 21st
of March the Bowling-green at Mary-le-bon will be opened, by order of
the Nobility and Gentry."

The Weekly Packet of June 25, 1715, shews in few words the extravagant
patronage bestowed on the Italian actors at that time: "Seignior
Nicolini's quail pipe continues to _lug_ the nobility and gentry by
the ears, who have gone very far on his last benefit night towards
equipping him for another purchase at Venice, he having already built
a stately edifice there near the Rialto, upon which is written, in
characters of gold, _Villa Britannica_, as a testimony that Scaliger's
saying that we are _hospitibus feri_ is a downright untruth, and
falsely imputed to our Nation."

George I. seems to have been partial to aquatic excursions. On the
22d of August, 1715, the King, Prince, and Princess of Wales, and a
numerous party of Nobility, went with musick on board their barges from
Whitehall to Limehouse. When they returned in the evening, the captains
of the shipping suspended lanterns in their rigging, and the houses
on both sides of the river were illuminated; an incredible number of
boats filled with spectators attended the Royal party, and cannon
were continually fired during the day and evening. This amusement is
repeatedly noticed in the papers.

Several years elapsed without the least notice of Bartholomew Fair;
but Dawks's News-letter of August 27, 1715, mentions, "On Wednesday
Bartholomew Fair began, to which we hear the greatest number of black
cattle was brought that ever was known. It seems there is not a public
licence for booths and plays as formerly; but there is one great
play-house erected in the middle of Smithfield for the King's players
(as they are called). The booth is the largest that ever was built,
and abundance of puppet-shews and other shews are set out in the houses
round Smithfield, and public raffling and gaming in the Cloisters
(of St. Bartholomew's Hospital), so that the Fair is almost as much
resorted to as formerly."

I have hitherto described the amusements of the Londoners on _terra
firma_; the frost of 1715-16 enables me to shew how they gamboled on
the Thames when frozen. The following advertisement leads the way:
"This is to give notice to gentlemen and others that pass upon the
Thames during this frost, that over against Whitehall-stairs, they may
have their names printed, fit to paste in any book to hand down the
memory of the season to posterity.

You that walk there, and do design to tell
Your Children's children what this year befel,
Go print your names, and take _a dram_ within;
For such a year as this has seldom been."

Dawks's News-letter of Jan. 14 says, "The Thames seems now a solid
rock of ice; and booths for the sale of brandy, wine, ale, and other
exhilarating liquors, have been fixed there for some time. But now it
is in a manner like a town: thousands of people cross it, and with
wonder view the mountainous heaps of water that now lie congealed
into ice. On Thursday a great Cook's-shop was erected there, and
gentlemen went as frequently to dine as at any ordinary. Over against
Westminster, Whitehall, and Whitefriars, printing-presses are kept upon
the ice, where many persons have their names printed, to transmit the
wonders of the season to their posterity."

Coaches, Waggons, Carts, &c. are said to have been driven over it; and
an Enthusiast preached to a motley congregation _on the mighty waters_,
with a zeal fiery enough to have thawed himself through the ice, had
it been susceptible of religious warmth. This and other diversions
attracted the attention of many of the Nobility, and even tempted the
Prince of Wales to visit _Frost Fair_.

On that day there was an uncommonly high spring tide, which overflowed
the cellars on the borders of the River, and raised the ice full
fourteen feet without interrupting the people from their pursuits.

The Protestant Packet of this period observes, that the Theatres were
almost deserted.

The News-letter of February 15 announces the dissolution of the
ice, and with it the "baseless fabrick" on which Momus had held his
temporary reign. The above paper enables me to conclude this article,
as I began it, with a scrap of doggrel:

"Thou beauteous river Thames, whose standing tide
Equals the glory of thy flowing pride,
The City, nay the World's transferr'd to thee,
Fix'd as the land, and richer than the sea.
The various metals Nature can produce,
Or Art improve for ornament or use,
From the Earth's deepest bowels brought are made
To shine on thee, and carry on the trade.
Here Guilleaum, fam'd for making silver pass
Through various forms----
And Sparks as fam'd for brass.
There's T----, 'tween God and gold who ne'er stood neuter,
And trusty Nicholson, who lives by pewter;
Wrote o'er their doors having affix'd their names,
We under-writ removed to the Thames,
Who on the slippery substance seek their food,
Some miles together for the common good.
Here healing Port-wine, and there Rhenish flows,
Here Bohea-tea, and there Tobacco _grows_.
In one place you may meet good Cheshire cheese,
And in another whitest Brentford peas;
Here is King George's picture, there Queen Anne's,
Now nut-brown ale in cups and then in canns;
One sells an Oxford dram as good as can be,
Another offers General Peper's brandy.
See! there's the Mall, and in that little hut
The best Geneva's sold, and love to boot.
See there a sleek Venetian envoy walks;
See here an Alderman more proudly stalks.
Behold the French Ambassador, that's he;
And this is the honest Sire and Captain Leigh.
Here is St. James's street, yonder the Strand:
In this place Bowyer plies; that's Lintot's stand."

The Societies of the two Temples gave grand entertainments at their
Halls to the Lord Chancellor and many of the Nobility in February; but
the most remarkable accompaniment to these convivial meetings was the
representation of the comedy of _The Chances_, performed within the
greater Hall by the Comedians of Drury-lane Theatre.

The present representatives of the Societies will forgive my transition
from their elegant amusements to those of a Bear-garden, "the back-side
of Soho-square," where the proprietors had an amphitheatre of three
gradations; the lowest of which let at 2_s._ 6_d._ for each seat, the
next 5_s._ and the third 10_s._ 6_d._ There, "at the desire of several
persons of Quality," a Leopard, twelve feet in length, was advertised
to be baited to death on the 24th of March; and gentlemen who chose to
risk their dogs were permitted to assist in the destruction of this
monstrous animal, which appears to have been the first so used within
the century. The Leopard was shewn with other beasts in a room "at the
boarded-house, Mary-le-bon-fields." We will leave the "Quality" in
full enjoyment of their classical entertainment; and follow another
description of citizens to Wanstead, where a female had long resided,
who annually attracted notice by the following advertisement, in which
she then mentioned her age for the first time: "This is to give notice
to all my honoured masters and ladies, and the rest of my loving
friends, that _my lady_ Butterfield gives a challenge to ride a horse,
to leap a horse, or run on foot, or halloo, with any woman in England
seven years younger, but not a day older, _because I won't undervalue_
myself, being now 74 years of age. My Feast will be the last Wednesday
of this month, April, where there will be good entertainment for that
day and all the year after in Wanstead in Essex."

From a paragraph in a newspaper we subsequently find the Boarded House
at Mary-le-bon to have been used as a Theatre for Pugilism.

The Prince of Wales frequently visited the Theatre during his father's
first absence in Germany. The visit of Thursday night the 6th of
December, 1716, appears to have been a dangerous one, and very similar
to that of his successor George III. in May 1799; and, what is more
remarkable, Drury-lane was the place selected for a Royal assassination
twice within a century. A Mr. Freeman attempted to enter a box facing
the Prince's in a very coarse dress, which excited suspicion of the
Box-keeper, who, with the assistance of a centinel, discovered a
pistol under his coat; this he immediately discharged at the Soldier,
and wounded him in the neck; but before he could accomplish farther
mischief, the people knocked him down, and, searching his person, found
other loaded pistols. These circumstances led to farther enquiries,
when it was found that he had a servant in waiting with a horse at the
door of the Theatre. It is observed in the papers which relate this
occurrence, that the Prince evinced no signs of agitation, though there
was every reason to suppose the assassin aimed at his life; and in
this particular he has been emulated by his present Majesty under more
trying circumstances.

Mr. Freeman committed horrid outrages some time after his commitment
to Newgate, which he commenced by a pretended quarrel with a woman
occasionally admitted to his cell. Two of the keepers proceeding to
the spot found Freeman without the door, who immediately stabbed Mr.
Russell in the breast with a rusty fork he had held in his hand behind
him, and then returned to his room, shutting the door, which he refused
to open. A guard of Soldiers was called by Mr. Smith, who endeavoured
to force it open; and an unfortunate man introducing his hand, Freeman,
who was upon the watch, almost severed it with a knife from the wrist.
They then threatened to fire through the door: this alarmed him, and he
opened it; but the Soldiers met with a fierce resistance in attempting
to secure him; and he actually overpowered two ere he was mastered
and conveyed to the condemned hole. It is singular that during this
contest he had planned the firing of Newgate; and his handkerchief
was found burning within his hat in a convenient part of the room for
communication. Freeman was afterwards tried at Kingston for the murder
of a Trooper, and acquitted as a lunatic.

Moorfields was occasionally used by Showmen and Merry-andrews as
their Theatre. The Act of the 12th of Queen Anne was aimed at the
suppression of these low amusements. The proprietors of them, fearful
of the penalties annexed, endeavoured to prevail upon Mr. Justice
Fuller to license them in April 1717, but in vain. Finding this worthy
Magistrate obdurate, they ventured to begin their operations; which he
was no sooner acquainted with, than he assembled thirty constables,
and issued his warrant, supported by the signature of Mr. Rand for
their apprehension. When the High Constable and his posse proceeded to
Windmill-hill, they found it occupied by Messrs. Saunders and Margaret,
two Middlesex Justices, who forbade the execution of the warrant, and
declared they would protect the Showmen. The intrepid Fuller, conscious
of his own rectitude, commanded the arrest of the principals, which was
promptly obeyed; and when conveyed to his residence at Clerkenwell, he
committed them to the House of Correction, where they had been but a
few hours, when three other _upright Magistrates_ set them at liberty.

The next occurrence under this head seems perfectly in unison with
the preceding articles: the proprietors of the Boarded House Soho
advertised a savage entertainment for the 21st of May, 1717, which
required the support of such Magistrates as Margaret and Saunders, and
such spectators as Freeman. They had, during the period between the
baiting of the Leopard and May 21, refined upon cruelty to the very
_acme_, and were ready to exhibit an African Tiger on a stage four feet
high worried by six bull and bear dogs, for 100_l._; a mad bull, and a
bear, both covered with fire-works; and, lest those pleasant spectacles
should fail to amuse, six young men were to play _at blunts_; in other
words he that broke most heads obtained a hat. The miscreants had even
the audacity to conclude their detestable advertisement with "_Vivat
Rex_."

Tottenham Court-road was another place of resort for the lower orders
of society; and their successors even now presume at Easter and
Whitsuntide to set order and magistracy at defiance. "Information
having been given upon oath to divers of his Majesty's Justices of the
Peace for the County of Middlesex, that several lewd and disorderly
persons, and players of interludes, had erected booths and sheds at
Tottenham-Court in the County of Middlesex aforesaid, wherein were
used a great deal of prophane cursing and swearing, together with
many lewd and blasphemous expressions, as also several rude, riotous,
and disorderly actions committed; eleven of his Majesty's Justices,
having duly considered the evil tendency of such wicked and abominable
practices, for suppression thereof, and for preventing the like for
the future, granted a warrant under their hands and seals, dated the
10th instant, for the apprehension of several of the persons concerned
in the management of the said interludes, which hath since been put in
execution, and the same have been suppressed accordingly, and the said
booths and sheds pulled down and taken away[148:A]."

On Friday evening September 13 several Constables visited Southwark,
and particularly Penkethman's booth, whom they apprehended, with others
of his company, just as they had concluded a play, and in the presence
of near 150 noblemen and gentlemen seated on the stage. They were soon
liberated, on making it appear that they were the King's servants. The
Prince visited this booth.

In the same month Mr. Rich assigned his patent granted by Charles II.
and his right in the New Theatre, Lincoln's-inn-fields, to Messrs.
Keene and Bullock, who commenced their reign with the performance of
Cymbeline.

One of the amusements of 1718 was the juggling exhibition of a
fire-eater, whose name was De Hightrehight, a native of the valley
of Annivi in the Alps. This tremendous person ate burning coals,
chewed flaming brimstone and _swallowed_ it, licked a red-hot poker,
placed a red-hot heater on his tongue, kindled coals on his tongue,
suffered them to be blown, and broiled meat on them, ate melted pitch,
brimstone, bees-wax, sealing wax, and rosin, with a spoon; and, to
complete the business, he performed all these impossibilities five
times _per diem_, at the Duke of Marlborough's head in Fleet-street
for the trifling receipts of 2_s._ 6_d._ 1_s._ 6_d._ and 1_s._ Master
Hightrehight had the honour of exhibiting before Lewis XIV. the Emperor
of Germany, the King of Sicily, the Doge of Venice, and an infinite
number of princes and nobles--and the Prince of Wales, who had nearly
lost this inconceivable pleasure by the envious interposition of the
Inquisition at Bologna and in Piedmont, which holy office seemed
inclined to try _their mode of burning_ on his _body_, leaving to him
the care of resisting the flames and rendering them harmless; but he
was preserved from the unwelcome ordeal by the interference of the
Dutchess Royal Regent of Savoy and the Marquis Bentivoglia.

The following paragraph occurs in the Weekly Journal of March 15,
1718; from which an idea may be formed of the audiences at Sadler's
Wells about that period: "Sadler's Wells being lately opened, there is
likely to be a great resort of strolling damsels, half-pay officers,
peripatetic tradesmen, tars, butchers, and others that are musically
inclined," who had an opportunity this year of gratifying their
curiosity at the Duke of Marlborough's head, by listening to sentences
in German, French, and English, pronounced by a _Speaking Dog_ in
sounds so correctly articulate, as to deceive a person who did not see
him into the belief that the _vox humana_ was actually in use at the
moment. Penkethman exhibited at his booth in Southwark several _dancing
dogs_ imported from France.

A person who was called the Grimace Spaniard induced the proprietors
of the Boarded House to advertise his intention of fighting bulls with
darts, and to kill one with his sword after the Spanish manner. The man
attempted the feat; but whether he was unskilful, or _John Bull_, the
British beast, was too spirited, it is certain he completely failed;
and retired with the disappointed clamour of the populace thundering in
his ears.

A Royal Academy of Musick was established by letters patent in 1719;
and the Directors were concerned in the management of the Opera, for
which Mr. Handel visited the Continent to obtain performers.

The close of the same year presented the eighth wonder of the world to
the Londoners, as Mr. De Lepine, the inventor, had the vanity to call
it. This was a machine, moved by springs and wheels, impelling figures
to advance on a stage, where they performed a pantomimic opera, aided
by the usual changes of scenes, musick, &c. &c.

The patent of Sir Richard Steele, dated October 18, 1714, by which that
gentleman, Robert Wilks, Colley Cibber, Thomas Doggett, and Barton
Booth, had authority to establish a company of Comedians, received a
violent attack in January 1720; when, through the intrigues of the Lord
Chamberlain, the King was induced to revoke his Royal licence, and
to command their silence at Drury-lane Theatre. This proceeding was
violently resented by Sir Richard; who vented his anger in very severe
terms against the Duke of Newcastle in a periodical paper, intituled,
"The Theatre," and the King now and then received a slight rub.

At the very instant a company of French comedians arrived in England,
encouraged by advantageous offers and a large subscription. Whether the
above prohibition had any reference to such arrival does not appear;
but that the King was partial to their performances is very certain,
and he frequently saw them act.

The London Journal of March 5, 1720, says: "Yesterday morning the
King's company of Comedians belonging to the Playhouse in Drury-lane
were sworn at the Lord Chamberlain's office at Whitehall, pursuant to
an order, occasioned by their acting in obedience to His Majesty's
licence, lately granted, exclusive of a patent formerly obtained by
Sir Richard Steele, knight. The tenor of the oath was, that as his
Majesty's servants they should act subservient to the Lord Chamberlain,
Vice Chamberlain, and Gentleman Usher in waiting."

The company of the New Theatre in Lincoln's-inn-fields was dissolved in
July 1720, and the house seized in execution for debt.

The fashionables of 1720 derived one of their amusements from a
most magnificent marriage celebrated between a Jew and a Jewess of
great respectability named Cornele. Part of the ceremony was held at
Leathersellers Hall, which they hired for six days. These spirited
Israelites went in procession on the Sabbath after their marriage to
the Synagogues, preceded by two men strewing flowers and herbs, and
followed by a great number of nobility and their friends, all on foot,
as the Law of Moses forbids the use of carriages or horses on that
holy day; but, as John Bull did not enter into the spirit of these
rites correctly, Master Cornele thought it useful to provide a guard of
grenadiers, who served to render the pageant splendid, and the persons
who composed it safe.

At the Hall the happy pair were seated under a canopy, for the purpose
of receiving the congratulations of their visitors; those they
returned by entertainments of musick, dancing, and every description
of rich viands, presenting them besides with silver favours elegantly
ornamented with the motto, "_This is God's command_," inscribed above
their effigies joining hands. The more humble guests had streams of
wine poured from the mouth and breasts of the old Mermaid, which till
recently fronted the Hall door.

The Theatre in the Haymarket appears to have been re-erected by John
Potter, who leased the King's-head inn of John and Thomas Moor at
a fine of 200_l._ in 1720. On this site he erected the Theatre for
1000_l._ and expended 500_l._ on scenes, dresses, &c. It was finished
December 1, 1720, and appropriated to the company of French Comedians,
who arrived in that month from Paris. Their opening was some time in
January; on the 31st they acted, by desire of several ladies of the
first quality, _Le Tartûffe_ and _Le Tombeau de Maitre Andrè_ with
dances. The prices were, boxes 4_s._ pit 2_s._ 6_d._ and gallery 1_s._
6_d._

A riot which happened in Lincoln's-inn-fields Theatre in March 1721
occasioned the custom, still retained, of having a serjeant and twelve
men stationed round the house during the performance.

Wells, who had left the old Bear-garden at Hockley in the Hole, and
established that at Mary-le-bon, died in 1721. Dan Singleton composed
the following ludicrous epitaph on the occasion:

"Shed, O ye combatants, a flood of tears;
Howl, all ye dogs; roar, all ye bulls and bears!
Ye butchers, weep! for ye, no doubt, are grievers,
And sound his loss with marrow-bones and cleavers.
Wells is no more! Yet death has been so kind
That he hath left the bulls and bears behind."

One of the newspapers of the day says: "By the decease of Mr. Wells,
the original Bear-garden in Hockley in the Hole is now likely to be
thronged, especially since all the old gamesters are resolved to
bait every Monday and Thursday; and the gladiators have promised
frequently to try their skill there; the brutes to box; the furmity
and hasty-pudding eaters to cobble down their hot guttage at Madam
Preston's, and at no other place."

The French Comedians appear to have met with little encouragement at
the Haymarket. Aaron Hill announced himself manager and director of
a new company formed by ladies and gentlemen who had never before
appeared on any stage, with the aid of scenery quite novel and upon
an improved plan. He opened with his own play of "Henry the Fifth" in
December 1721.

The prognostick relating to the Bear-garden in a preceding paragraph
seems to have been realized in June 1722 by the following extract from
the London Journal: "Boxing in public at the Bear-garden is what has
lately obtained very much among the men; but till last week we never
heard of _women_ being engaged that way, when two of the feminine
gender appeared for the first time on the Theatre of War at Hockley
in the Hole, and maintained the battle with great valour for a long
time, to the no small satisfaction of the spectators. The challenge and
answer of these females being originals, we give them to our readers:

"I Elizabeth Wilkinson, of Clerkenwell, having had some words with
Hannah Hyfield, and requiring satisfaction, do invite her to meet me on
the Stage, and box with me for three guineas, each woman holding half
a crown in each hand, and the first woman that drops her money to lose
the battle."

"I Hannah Hyfield, of Newgate-market, hearing of the resoluteness of
Elizabeth Wilkinson, will not fail, ---- willing, to give her more
blows than words, desiring home blows, and from her no favour."

Their habits on this occasion were close jackets, short petticoats,
Holland drawers, white stockings, and pumps.

The Opera of 1723 was supported by the introduction of a lady from
Italy, of great musical celebrity, named Cuzzoni. She sung in private
for the amusement of the Prince and Princess of Wales, to their great
satisfaction, previous to her appearance in publick. Her engagement
was at the enormous salary of 2000_l. per_ season, presuming on her
future success; nor were the managers disappointed, for they were
enabled on the second evening of her performance to demand and receive
four guineas each ticket. An excellent epigram was made upon this lady
immediately after her first appearance:

"If Orpheus' notes could woods and rocks inspire,
And make dull rivers listen to his lyre;
Cutzona's voice can with far greater skill
Rouse death to life, and what is living kill."

She received an incredible number of rich presents, which would
have been extremely well, if other sums equal to those employed in
their purchase had flowed in a stream at all correspondent towards
the meritorious performers of the English Stage, who languished in
comparative penury; while the managers profited, and exhibited them in
a way which occasioned the following just censure from a contemporary:
"When we come to consider the decoration of the Stage at present, we
shall sometimes find it magnificent and well ordered. In this I include
the habits of the characters or persons of the drama, in which the
propriety is not near so well observed as in the scenery; for we shall
often see a shabby King surrounded by a party of his guards, every
man of which belongs to the ragged regiment. One would think that the
managers of the Theatre were republicans in their principles, and they
did this on purpose to bring monarchy into contempt; for it is certain
that Duncan King of Scotland has not had a new habit for this last
century; and the mighty Julius Cæsar first Emperor of Rome appears as
ragged as a colt, and many other Monarchs I could name that are no
better dressed than heathen philosophers. The reason is, that you will
find those parts are not played by any of the _three_ managers; and
it is their awkward vanity to appear fine themselves though never so
much out of character; so that when you go to see a play there in new
habits, it is not the King, the Prince, or the General, but Cibber or
B. you are to see well dressed."

One of the entertainments for which the Opera-house was used in 1723
attracted the notice of the Grand Jury of Middlesex, whose presentment
follows: "Whereas there has been lately published a proposal for six
Ridotto's or Balls to be managed by subscription at the King's Theatre
in the Haymarket; we the Grand Jury of the County of Middlesex, sworn
to enquire for our Sovereign Lord the King and the body of this
County, conceiving the same to be wicked and illegal practices, and
which, if not timely suppressed, may promote debauchery, lewdness,
and ill conversation; from a just abhorrence therefore of such sort of
assemblies, which we apprehend are contrary to law and good manners,
and give great offence to His Majesty's good and virtuous subjects; we
do present the same, and recommend them to be prosecuted and suppressed
as common nuisances to the publick, as nurseries of lewdness,
extravagance, and immorality, and also a reproach and scandal to civil
government." This presentment had no effect whatever.

The Theatre in Lincoln's-inn-fields seems entitled to the exclusive
honour of introducing Harlequinades to the publick. The manager is
mentioned in 1723 to have been particularly successful; so much
so as to have excited the envy of his brethren of Drury-lane, who
determined either to ridicule, or eclipse him, by the introduction of
a piece called "Blind Man's Buff, supported by the freaks of _eight_
Harlequins." My author of the Weekly Journal adds: "The thing was so
ridiculous, there was no musick to be heard but hissing."

A Footman's gallery is mentioned at the Opera-house in the papers of
this date, with the addition that its frequenters were so insolent and
noisy that threats of shutting it were circulated.

The Cock-pit and Bowling-green before-mentioned, back of Gray's Inn
gardens, was let on a building lease in 1723.

In the month of December an entertainment or pantomimic performance was
produced at the Theatre in Lincoln's-inn-fields, founded on the old
story of Dr. Faustus, written by Mr. Thurmond, with musick by Monsieur
Galliard. The publications of the day take such repeated notice of it,
and appear to think it so very wonderful, I shall venture to give the
story _verbatim_ from the Universal Journal of December 11.

"At the drawing of the curtain, Dr. Faustus's study is discovered; the
Doctor enters, pricks his finger, and with the blood signs a contract;
it thunders; and a Devil, riding on a fiery dragon, flies swiftly cross
the stage: the Devil alights, receives the contract, and embraces Dr.
Faustus, delivers him a wand, and vanishes. Two Countrymen and women
enter to be told their fortunes; the Doctor waves his wand, and four
pictures turn out of the scenes opposite to these country people,
representing a Judge, a Soldier, a dressed Lady, and a Lady in a riding
habit: Dr. Faustus, by his action, shews them they are to be what is
represented in those pictures. The scene changes, and discovers the
outside of a handsome house; the two men and women enter, as returning
home; as they are going off the Doctor seizes the two women; the
Countrymen return to rescue their wives; the Doctor waves his wand,
four Devils enter, the men are frighted, run up the steps of the house,
clap their backs against the door, the front of the house immediately
turns, and the husbands are thrown out of the stage; the wives remain
with the Doctor; and at the same instant the machine turns, a supper
ready dressed rises swiftly up, and a Devil is transformed into
an agreeable shape, who dances whilst they are regaling, and then
vanishes. The husbands appear at the window, threatening the Doctor,
who by art magic have large horns fixed to their heads, that they can
neither get out nor in. Dr. Faustus and the women go out; he beckons
the table, and it follows him off. The scene changes to the street.
Punch, Scaramouch, and Pierro enter in Scholars gowns and caps; they
are invited into the Doctor's house by a Devil: they enter, and the
scene changes to the inside of the house: the Doctor receives them
kindly, and invites them to sit down to a bottle of wine; as they are
drinking, the table rises, upon which they start back affrighted: then
the spirit of Helen rises in a chair of state, with a canopy over her;
she entertains them with a dance, goes to her seat again, and sinks.
While the Scholars are drinking, the Doctor waves his wand, and large
asses ears appear, at once, upon each of their heads: they join in a
dance, each pointing and laughing at the others; the Doctor follows
them out, pointing and laughing at them all. The scene being changed
to the street, a Usurer crosses the stage with a bag of money, goes
into the Doctor's house; the scene opens, and discovers the Doctor at
a table; the Usurer enters, lends the Doctor the money, but refuses
his bond, and demands a limb of him; the Doctor suffers him to cut
off his leg, and carry it away. Several legs appear upon the scene,
and the Doctor strikes a woman's leg with his wand, which immediately
flies from the rest, and fixes to the Doctor's stump, who dances with
it ridiculously. A bawd next enters with a courtezan; she presents her
to the Doctor, for whom he gives the bawd the bag of money; they all
join in a dance, and the Doctor is going off; the bawd stops him, to
demand more money; he hangs his hat against the scene, and points to
that, and goes out with his mistress. The bawd holds her apron under
the hat, from whence a considerable quantity of silver drops; she
advances to the front of the stage with a great deal of pleasure, but
going to review her money, finds she has none, and runs off. The scene
changes to the street, four watchmen enter, and join in a dance adapted
to their character. The scene opens, and discovers the Doctor's study,
he enters affrighted, the clock strikes one, the figures of Time and
Death appear, and in a short piece of recitative declare his latest
minute is come. Several Devils enter, tear him in pieces, some fly up,
others sink, each bearing a limb of him away; flashes of fire arise,
and thunder is heard.

"The last, which is the grand scene, whether proper or not I shall
not pretend to determine, is the most magnificent that ever appeared
upon the English stage. The Gods and Goddesses discovered there are,
Apollo, Mars, Mercury, Bacchus, Ceres, Iris, Flora, and Pales. Apollo
advances and sings, inviting the Gods to revel, the power of Faustus
being at an end. The rest of the deities (Pales excepted) advance, and
dance, agreeable to their several characters, in the greatest order
and exactness. Apollo again advances, and invites Diana to appear;
upon which a machine flies up and discovers Diana in her chariot, the
crescent in an azure sky hanging over her head; she descends, beckons
two nymphs who take her bow and quiver; which done, she dances. They
then all join in a chorus of singing and dancing; which concludes the
entertainment."

The London Journal says, that the Managers received 260_l._
entrance-money the first night, from which we may judge of the size of
the Theatre when greatly crowded.

The Universal Journal of December 18, 1723, has the following article:
"On Thursday last a new play-house was opened in the Haymarket. The
company, we are informed, consists of persons who never appeared in
public before. The first play they entertained the town with was a
comedy, intituled, 'The Female Fop, or the False one Fitted,' whose
author has not yet reached his sixteenth year."

An author mentioned the rehearsal of Dr. Young's tragedy of the
Brothers in 1724, and prognosticated its failure in these words: "I am
credibly informed the manager of the new house has formed a resolution
that it shall be acted to an empty pit and boxes, there being a new
entertainment in grotesque characters preparing there, intituled, 'The
Cruel Uncle, or the Children in the Wood,' so very artfully contrived,
that at the instant Perseus and Demetrius are entering upon that scene,
the ruffians (represented by Harlequin and Scaramouch) will be making
their appearance at the other house. The consequence of this is easily
foreseen: Booth and Cibber will preach to bare walls, whilst Lanyon
and Dupre dance before a full audience; and lest Mrs. Oldfield's name
should sway some few unfashionable wretches, they have contrived a very
musical Robin red-breast, which is to have more melody in its song
than there can possibly be in all the mournful accents of the unhappy
Erixene."

The Police were at length convinced how very improper the exhibitions
of bear-baiting and prize-fighting were in the City of London; and
sent the proper officers to Spital-fields, in June 1724, where a
stage had been erected for the first time for those purposes, which
was immediately pulled down by their orders, and in August they were
vainly employed in concerting measures for the total suppression of the
long established place of resort at Hockley in the Hole.

An expensive tragedy, intituled, "Julius Cæsar in Egypt," was produced
and condemned in 1724, when the following excellent Epigram appeared:

"_The sixth night._

When the pack'd audience from their posts retir'd,
And Julius in a general hiss expir'd,
Sage Booth to Cibber cried: 'Compute our gains;
These dogs of Egypt and their dowdy queans
But ill requite these habits and those scenes,
To rob Corneille for such a motley piece;
His Geese were Swans, but zounds thy Swans are Geese.'
Rubbing his firm invulnerable brow,
The Bard replied, 'The criticks must allow,
'Twas ne'er in Cæsar's destiny to _run_;'
Wilks bow'd, and bless'd the gay pacific pun."

August 1725 produced a conflict for the entertainment of the visitors
of Mr. Figg's amphitheatre, Oxford-road, which is characteristic of
savage ferocity indeed. Sutton the champion of Kent and a courageous
female heroine of that County fought Stokes and _his much admired_
consort of London; 40_l._ was to be given to the male or female
who gave most cuts with the sword, and 20_l._ for most blows at
quarter-staff, besides the collection in the box. A poetical account of
a battle of this kind, was published in the London Journal, and is, I
think, worth preserving, especially as it is said to have been written
by the author of the Pastoral in the Spectator beginning "My time, O ye
Muses, was happily spent:"

"Long was the great Figg by the prize-fighting swains
Sole monarch acknowledg'd of Mary-bon plains;
To the towns far and near did his valour extend,
And swam down the river from Thame to Gravesend.
There liv'd Mr. Sutton, pipe-maker by trade,
Who, hearing that Figg was thought such a stout blade,
Resolv'd to put in for a share of his fame,
And so sent to challenge the Champion of Thame.
With alternate advantage two trials had past,
When they fought out the rubbers Wednesday last.
To see such a contest the house was so full,
There hardly was room left to thrust in your scull.
With a prelude of cudgels we first were saluted,
And two or three shoulders most handsomely fluted;
Till, wearied at last with inferior disasters,
All the company cry'd, "Come, the Masters, the Masters."
Whereupon the bold Sutton first mounted the stage,
Made his honours as usual, and yearn'd to engage;
Then Figg with a visage so fierce and sedate
Came, and enter'd the list with his fresh-shaven pate.
Their arms were encircled by armigers two
With a red ribbon Sutton's, and Figg's with a blue;
Thus adorn'd the two heroes 'twixt shoulder and elbow
Shook hands, and went to 't; and the word it was _bilboe_.
Sure such a concern in the eyes of spectators
Was never yet seen in our Amphitheatres!
Our Commons and Peers from their several places
To half an inch distance all pointed their faces;
While the rays of old Phœbus that shot through the sky-light
Seem'd to make on the stage a new kind of twilight;
And the Gods without doubt, if one could but have seen them,
Were peeping there through to do justice between them.
Figg struck the first stroke, and with such a vast fury,
That he broke his huge weapon in twain I assure you.
And if his brave rival this blow had not warded,
His head from his shoulders had quite been discarded.
Figg arm'd him again, and they took t'other tilt,
And then Sutton's blade run away from its hilt;
The weapons were frighted, but as for the men
In truth they ne'er minded, but at it again.
Such a force in their blows you'd have thought it a wonder
Every stroke they receiv'd did not cleave them asunder.
Yet so great was their courage, so equal their skill,
That they both seem'd as safe as a thief in a mill;
While in doubtful attention dame Victory stood,
And which side to take could not tell for her blood,
But remain'd like the Ass 'twixt the two bottles of hay
Without ever moving an inch either way;
Till Jove to the Gods signified his intention
In a speech that he made them too tedious to mention.
But the upshot of it was, that at that very bout
From a wound in Figg's side the hot blood spouted out;
Her ladyship then seem'd to think the case plain,
But Figg stepping forth, with a sullen disdain,
Shew'd the gash, and appeal'd to the company round
If his own broken sword had not given him the wound.
That bruises and wounds a man's spirit should touch,
With danger so little, with honour so much!
Well, they both took a dram, and return'd to the battle,
And with a fresh fury they made the swords rattle;
While Sutton's right arm was observed to bleed
By a touch from his rival, so Jove had decreed;
Just enough for to shew that his blood was not _icor_,
But made up, like Figg's, of the common red liquor.
Again they both rush'd with as equal a fire on,
That the company cried, 'Hold, enough of cold iron;
To the quarter-staff now, lads;' so first having dram'd it,
They took to their wood, and i'faith never shamm'd it.
The first bout they had was so fair and so handsome,
That to make a fair bargain it was worth a King's ransom;
And Sutton such bangs to his neighbour imparted,
Would have made any fibres but Figg's to have smarted.
Then after that bout they went on to another;
But the matter must end in some fashion or other,
So Jove told the Gods he had made a decree,
That Figg should hit Sutton a stroke on the knee;
Though Sutton, disabled as soon as it hit him,
Would still have fought on, but Jove would not permit him.
'Twas his fate, not his fault, that constrain'd him to yield,
And thus the great Figg became lord of the field."

Sir Richard Steele exhibited a bill in the Court of Chancery against
the holders of Drury-lane Theatre for a share in the profits of the
house by virtue of his patent, in October 1725.

The editor of the Flying Post observes in February 1727: "The directors
of the Royal Academy of Musick have resolved, that after the excellent
Opera, composed by Mr. Handel, which is now performing, Signior Attilia
shall compose one; and Signior Bononcini is to compose the next after
that. Thus, as this Theatre can boast of the three best voices in
Europe, and the best instruments, so the town will have the pleasure of
hearing these three different styles of composing."

However flattering these prospects seemed, they ended most
unharmoniously in a fierce contention between the rival female
performers Cuzzoni and Faustina, whose partizans were so vehement in
the operations of hissing and clapping, that they proceeded in them
even in the presence of the Princess of Wales.

After this notice of the _polite_ portion of the community, the
following advertisement, copied literally from the original issued
by the proprietors of the Amphitheatre, will appear less wonderful
and disgusting: "In Islington road, on Monday, being the 17th of
July, 1727, will be performed a trial of skill by the following
combatants. We Robert Barker and Mary Welsh, from Ireland, having often
_contaminated_ our swords in the _abdominous corporations_ of such
antagonists as have had the insolence to dispute our skill, do find
ourselves once more necessitated to challenge, defy, and invite Mr.
Stokes and his bold Amazonian _virago_ to meet us on the stage, where
we hope to give a satisfaction to the _honourable Lord_ of our nation
who has laid a wager of twenty guineas on our heads. They that give the
most cuts to have the whole money, and the benefit of the house; and if
swords, daggers, quarter-staff, _fury_, _rage_, and resolution, will
prevail, our friends shall not meet with a disappointment.'--'We James
and Elizabeth Stokes, of the City of London, having already gained an
universal approbation by our agility of body, dextrous hands, and
courageous hearts, need not _preambulate_ on this occasion, but rather
choose to exercise the sword to their sorrow, and corroborate the
general opinion of the town than to follow the custom of our _repartee_
antagonists. This will be the last time of Mrs. Stokes' performing
on the stage.'--There will be a door on purpose for the reception of
the gentlemen, where coaches may drive up to it, and the company come
in without being crowded. Attendance will be given at three, and the
combatants mount at six precisely. They all fight in the same dresses
as before."

Although a Coronation cannot by any means be considered as an amusement
by a serious and reflecting person, there have been, and will be,
numbers who see it in no other light than as a brilliant pageant. The
splendour of that of George II. in October 1727 attracted vast crowds
of strangers to London; and it was generally computed at the time that
full 200,000 seats were provided for their accommodation in every
situation which afforded even a glimpse of part of the ceremony.

In the month of October 1727, a lady, seated in the pit of Drury-lane
Theatre, thought she perceived smoke issuing through the apertures
of the stage, and, fancying she smelt it, declared her apprehensions
aloud, and at the same time endeavoured to leave the Theatre. The
audience were immediately excessively alarmed, and numbers rushing to
the different doors impeded each other's progress; confusion prevailed
for half an hour before her error was perceived, during which time
a pregnant woman was pressed to death, and several persons severely
injured. The Play was that of King Henry VIII. and the house very much
crowded.

The _new_ Theatre, as it was called in 1728, now the _little_ Theatre
in the Haymarket, was opened in that year for the season with the
Beggar's Opera: it was handsomely decorated, and the actors were
described as very respectable.

One of the follies of 1728 was the performance of the Beggar's Opera
at the Theatre in Lincoln's inn-fields by _children_; and that the
childish exhibition might be supported in all its branches, the
Managers contrived to send a book of the songs across the Stage by a
flying Cupid to Prince Frederick of Wales.

The Village Opera was acted, in March 1729, at the Theatre Drury-lane.
The absurd custom of placing seats upon the stage had been much
condemned previous to that period; but the Managers ventured
to introduce one for the Dutchess of Queensberry on the first
representation of the piece; and thus incurring the resentment of the
audience, they hissed incessantly till it was removed, and the wits
wrote epigrams upon the subject:

"Bent on dire work, and kindly rude, the Town
Impatient hiss'd thy seat, dear Dutchess, down;
Conscious that there had thy soft form appear'd,
Lost all in gaze, no vacant ear had heard:
Thy lambent eyes had look'd their rage away,
And the relenting hiss, and sav'd the play.
Thus not in clouds (as father Homer sung)
Such as fair Venus round Æneas flung,
Had our dull Bard escap'd the dreadful fright,
But sunk conceal'd in an excess of light."

Mr. Handel visited Italy in 1729, for the express purpose of collecting
performers for the Opera-house in the Haymarket. Those persons are
thus described in the Evening Post: "Signior Bernachi, who is esteemed
the best singer in Italy; Signiora Merighi, a woman of a very fine
presence, an excellent actress, and a very good singer--a contre-tenor;
Signiora Strada, who hath a very fine treble voice, a person of
singular merit; Signior Annibal Pio Fabri, a most excellent tenor and
a fine voice; his wife, _who performs a man's part exceeding well_;
Signiora Bartoldi, who has a very fine treble voice--she is also a very
genteel actress both in men and women's parts."

The delicately attenuated nerves of my female reader must be shocked
by the transition from the above divine warblers to the horrid Mr.
Figg, who fought his 271st battle in October 1730, with a Mr. Holmes,
whose wrist he cut to the bone in this _amusing_ description of public
entertainment. Master Figg was conqueror in _all_ those conflicts; a
tolerable poet, his contemporary, thus celebrated the exploits of the
modern Gladiator:

"Inspir'd with generous thirst of martial fame
Figg's early years presag'd his future name,
As Hannibal, ere grown to manhood's bloom,
Swore in his blood fell enmity with Rome:
Like ardour did our infant Hero grace;
Like dire aversion to the Hibernian race.
Long in successful fights both champions view'd
Their oath accomplish'd and their foes subdu'd;
But here th'illustrious parallel must end, }
And Afric's warrior to Britannia's bend; }
Events unequal their last fights attend, }
The former _loses_ what he earn'd before,
The _latter_ closes all his past _with one grand triumph more_."

As the following advertisement appears to be the _acme_ of absurdity
and folly, I think it will very properly close those of the
prize-fighting Figgs, &c.

"At Mr. Figg's great room to-morrow, the 20th of this instant
May, by the command of several noblemen and others, will be
shewn in full proof the judgment of the sword in all its
noble branches, offensive and defensive.

"We Mathew Masterson, Serjeant from Gibraltar, and Rowland
Bennet from the city of Dublin in the kingdom of Ireland,
masters of the said science, both having lately tasted
our error by unwarily receiving wounds from Mr. Figg, and
resolving if possible to return the keen rebuke by our
chastising swords, make this challenge the hostility of our
confederate arms, inviting them to the brightest of their
performances, Mr. Figg taking Mr. Gill to his assistance,
and fighting us at the time and place above for the benefit
of the whole house, which Mr. Masterson and the said Gill
are solely to have to themselves; the victor of them two
defraying all charges, and taking the surplus to himself as
free plunder. It is that makes a soldier a Cæsar or a Marius,
without the help of Lilly, who was most unmercifully whipped
last Wednesday in quarto by a Yorkshire Jockey with Roman
epithets, in order to extort rules for declining a good house
in favour of the present tense singular; but the grammatical
tit being too high-mettled to be verb-ridden, left his
Elorian corrector in an infinitive ill-mood, confounded in
particles in search of the great negative--nothing.

"MATHEW MASTERSON, ROWLAND BENNET."

* * * * *

"We, James Figg from Thame in Oxfordshire, and William
Gill (his scholar), more surprised than terrified at the
peremptory summons, assure the above gentlemen we did not
apprehend they would have been guilty of repeating those
crimes for which they so lately received the benefit of their
Clergy; but, as Mr. Bennet then obtained mercy by pleading
weakness, occasioned by the fatigue of a long journey, it
is hoped he will not make use of the same plea again, but
more bravely oppose the same arm, if recovered strength and
improvement have given him leave. Otherwise, both him and his
mighty ally may find Cæsars cut into Lazarus's, and Rome's
capitol converted into Chelsea college for the residence
of their titular Majesties, whilst the stock and branch of
superior force flourishes on Britannia's stage like the tall
cedars of Lebanon; and mourn their fate by shedding leaves to
adorn their untimely Monuments--if any be erected.

"JAMES FIGG, WILLIAM GILL."

"Note--On this extraordinary occasion Captain Vinegar has
orders to assemble his whole posse of leather-bottle men,
shin-kickers, and fist-clinckers; so that the whole may be
expected a complete evening's entertainment. The doors will
be opened at 3, and the masters mount at 6."

In December 1731, Figg and Sparks contended with the broad-sword at the
French or Little Theatre in the Haymarket, before the Duke of Lorrain,
Count Kinski, and many persons of distinction. One of the papers of
the day observes, "The beauty and judgment of the sword was delineated
in a very extraordinary manner by those two champions, _and with
very little bloodshed_: his Serene Highness was extremely pleased,
and expressed his entire satisfaction, and ordered them a handsome
gratuity."

A Theatre was erected in Goodman's fields by Thomas Odell in 1729;
his property in which was purchased 1731 by Henry Giffard. In 1732
the latter person opened a subscription, and received 2,300_l._ for
rebuilding it, and soon after divided the property into twenty-three
shares, which he assigned by indentures to the subscribers, allowing
them 1_s._ 6_d._ each night of performance, and free admissions, with
a mortgage on the Theatre as security. The means of building thus
secured, Giffard contracted with Sir William Leman for a piece of
ground for 61 years at a rent of 45_l. per annum_, and proceeded with
the building, expending several thousand pounds on scenes, dresses, and
decorations.

In the month of April 1730, Mr. Odell, proprietor of the New Theatre
in Goodman's-fields, waited on the King, requesting his licence to act
there; but met with a decisive refusal.

Covent-garden Theatre was built by subscription under the direction of
Mr. Rich; in the month of January 1731, 6000_l._ had been obtained, and
a design for the building was prepared by James Sheppard, Esq. which
met with general approbation. It appears from the public papers that
the Crown was then in treaty for Lincoln's-inn-fields Theatre, to use
as an office for the Commissioners of the Stamp-duties. In February
workmen begun to take down several old houses on the site of the
intended Theatre.

The validity of a patent intended to be granted by the King for R.
Wilks, C. Cibber, and Barton Booth, for Drury-lane Theatre was argued
in April 1732 before the Lord Chancellor, Lord Chief Justice Raymond,
and Mr. Baron Comyns; when it was decided to be a lawful grant, and it
passed the great seal accordingly.

Prince Frederick of Wales gave a grand entertainment to the Nobility
_at the Opera-house_ in 1732. The same Royal personage formed a company
of Soldiers, consisting of Courtiers sons, to which he declared himself
Corporal; and as such relieved guard between the acts of the Indian
Emperor, performed before their Majesties and the Court in the grand
ball room at St. James's by noble youths of both sexes.

The first notice of Vauxhall-gardens that I recollect to have seen in
the Newspapers was in June 1732, when a Ridotto al fresco is mentioned.
The company were estimated at 400 persons, and in the proportion
of _ten men_ to _one woman_, who generally wore domino's, lawyers
gowns, and masks, but many were without either. The company retired
between three and four in the morning, and order was preserved by 100
_soldiers_ stationed at the entrance.

The Tottenham-court Fair was unusually brilliant that year, and Lee,
Harper, and Petit's droll of Whittington was attended by many of the
Nobility, and the son of Ach Mahomet, Envoy from the Dey of Algiers.

The Theatre in Goodman's-fields opened for the season of 1732,
encouraged by the subscription of several merchants and others, and was
decorated by two pieces of painting, representing the King supporting
Liberty, and Apollo and the Muses--the works of Hayman and Oram.

The St. James's Evening Post of September 19, 1732, has the ensuing
paragraph: "We hear that Mr. Harvey and Mr. Lambert have been
employed for some time in painting the scenes for the New Theatre
in Covent-garden, and that Signior Amiconi, who painted the Lord
Tankerville's excellent stair-case in St. James's square, is to shew
his art in the cieling of that Theatre; and, in order thereto, hath
prepared a design in which Apollo is represented, in an assembly of the
Muses, dignifying Shakspeare with the Laurel. And as the several hands
employed require some farther time for completing their undertaking, we
are informed the Theatre in Lincoln's-inn-fields will be opened in a
few days, it being now determined not to act in that of Covent-garden
till the decorations are quite finished."

The present magnificent arched entrance from the Piazza's with columns
and enrichments of the Ionic order was erected in the above year. The
newspapers mention the Theatre as completely finished in November, and
that it was to be opened on the 27th of that month, when the following
lines made their appearance.

"Thespis, the first of the dramatic race,
Stroll'd in a cart, for gain, from place to place:
His actors rude, his profits came but slow;
The poet he, and master of the show;
To raise attention, he employ'd his art
To build another, and more costly cart:
New Asses he procur'd to drag the load,
And gain'd the shouts of boys upon the road.
Awhile the gay machine spectators drew;
The people throng'd, because the sight was new;
Thither they hurry'd once, and went no more,
For all his actors they had seen before;
And what it was they wish'd no more to see:
The application _Lun_ is left to thee."

There is some difference in our manner of resenting affronts offered to
the publick or individuals, by those on the stage at present, from the
mode adopted by Sir Robert Walpole in March 1733, who was present at
the pantomimic entertainment, called "Love runs all dangers," performed
at the Theatre in the Haymarket; when one of the Comedians presumed
to hint at the Minister's intended Excise Act. At the conclusion of
the performance his Lordship went behind the scenes, and demanded
of the prompter whether the offensive words were part of the play:
upon receiving an assurance they were not, he gave the actor a severe
beating.

It has been mentioned in the third volume of "Londinium Redivivum,"
that the Princess Amelia rendered the New Tunbridge Wells a place of
fashionable resort by drinking the water there for the restoration of
her health; a wag made the following poetical queries in the year 1733:

"Whence comes it that the splendid great,
To titles born and awful state,
Thus condescend, thus check their will,
And shape to Islington their way,
To mix with those of vulgar clay?
Astronomers, your glasses raise,
Survey this meteor's dazzling blaze,
And say portends it good or ill?

Soon as Aurora gilds the skies,
With brighter charms the ladies rise,
To dart forth beams that save or kill:
No homage at the toilette paid,
Their thousand beauties unsurvey'd,
Sweet negligence assistance lends,
And all the artless graces blends
That form the tempting dishabille.

Behold the walks (a checquer'd shade)
In all the pride of green array'd;
How bright the Sun! the air how still!
In wild confusion there we view,
Red ribbands group'd with aprons blue,
Curtsies, scrapes, nods, winks, smiles, and frowns,
Lords, milk-maids, dutchesses, and clowns,
All in their various dishabille!"

The pleasant gardens alluded to possessed, and still possess, greater
attraction than any others in the vicinity of London; it is therefore
by no means wonderful that _once in an age_ they became the scene of
attraction; but that noblemen, and men and women of fashion should,
by any of the strange mutations of caprice, _ever_ enter the booths
of Bartholomew Fair, is to me astonishing. That they did is beyond a
doubt; and even Cibber, Griffiths, Bullock, and Hallam, found it worth
their while to expend large sums in erecting magnificent booths for
their reception. Those prepared in August 1733 for the performance of
Tamerlane, the Miser, the Ridotto al fresco, &c. had gilt boxes and
other rich decorations, and were lighted by candles placed in glass
lustres. A considerable number of gentlemen, tradesmen, and others,
went in procession from the Bedford-arms to honour the commencement of
the entertainments.

Some absurd persons were at the expence in October the same year of
procuring a Holland smock, a cap, clocked stockings and laced shoes,
which they offered as prizes to any four women who would run for them
at three o'clock in the afternoon in Pall-Mall. The race attracted an
amazing number of persons, who filled the streets, the window's, and
balconies. The _sport_ attendant on this curious method of _killing
time_ induced Mr. Rawlings, high Constable of Westminster, resident
in Pall-Mall, to propose a laced hat as a prize to be run for by five
men, which appears to have produced much mirth to the projector; but
the mob, ever upon the watch to gratify their propensity for riot and
mischief, committed so many excesses, that the sedate inhabitants of
the neighbourhood found it necessary to apply to the Magistrates for
protection, who issued precepts to prevent future races, directed to
the very man most active in promoting them.

Senesino, the celebrated Italian performer, is said to have hired
the Theatre in Lincoln's-inn-fields for the winter of 1733-4 as an
Opera-house.

It is one of the singularities attendant on the present system of
Theatrical amusements, that certain actors performing under a patent
are gentlemen and ladies of merit, respectability, and fashion;
but, leaving the magic circle, and acting for any other person
than a patentee, they instantly become _rogues_ and _vagabonds_.
It was the same in 1733, when Messrs. Rich, Highmore, and others,
patentees of Drury-lane and Covent-garden Theatres, issued a summons
against a player of each of the companies employed by Giffard of
Goodman's-fields, and Mills of the Haymarket. A hearing of this
momentous affair commenced in November before Sir Thomas Clarges
and other Justices at the vestry-room of the parish of St. George
Hanover-square, in order to decide whether the Act of the 12th of Queen
Anne constituted persons acting without the authority of a patent
_vagrants_, or _rogues_ and _vagabonds_. After much dispute between the
counsel of both parties, Sir Thomas declared with great impartiality
that the summons ought to have been worded _rogues_ and _vagabonds_, in
strict conformity with the words of the Statute, instead of _vagrants_;
that it was therefore nugatory; and as the persons implicated were
reputable residents, he declined issuing another. By this decision
the two Theatres were in some measure sanctioned by authority, though
the performers certainly came within the meaning of the Law, which is
too harsh and monopolizing, to the great injury of genuine merit thus
denied the means of emulation; but the matter did not end as Sir Thomas
Clarges wished, as will appear from the following letter addressed to
"Mr. John Mills, and the rest of the persons acting at the Theatre
in the Haymarket, lately belonging to the Theatres at Drury-lane and
Covent-garden:"

"We have been daily in hopes, that, before this, the
mediation of friends would have put an end to the differences
that have for some time been between us; and though we are
well advised of the unlawfulness as well as unreasonableness
of your acting, yet we are extremely unwilling to take
such methods as the Law prescribes, without first assuring
you, that, if you think fit to return to your respective
companies, we shall be ready on our parts to do whatever can
be thought reasonable for us: but if you still persevere in
your separation, which is greatly prejudicial to us, we shall
be necessitated (though contrary to our inclinations) to
proceed in such a manner as the Law directs, for supporting
the Royal patents under which we act. We are in hopes of
an amicable answer from you, directed to the Theatre in
Drury-lane; and are your humble servants,

"MARY WILKS,
JOHN HIGHMORE,
JOHN ELLYS,
JOHN RICH."

The above letter was conveyed to the Theatre in the Haymarket, but none
of the actors were there; it was then sent to Mr. Mills, who returned
it unopened; upon which the patentees directed it to Theophilus Cibber,
who sent them this answer:

"I have received a letter from you, which speaks of several
persons and different companies; but, as no particular names
are mentioned, and the letter is directed to me alone, I can
only answer for myself. I am well advised that what I am
about is legal, and I know it is reasonable; and therefore I
do not think of changing my present condition for servitude.

"Your humble servant,
THEOPHILUS CIBBER."

Soon after the parties had a trial in the Court of King's Bench on the
following grounds: the Managers of the Haymarket Theatre took a lease
of two Trustees appointed by the 36 sharers of Drury-lane Theatre,
who, wishing that the grant of the Haymarket Theatre should be valid
both in Law and Equity, consulted the sharers on the subject, when
27 agreed to the execution of the lease; but the Patentees, thinking
otherwise, suffered an action of ejectment to be brought against them,
which was decided in November in favour of the plaintiffs, though
several unwarrantable methods were adopted to obtain a different
verdict: one of those was the arrest of Mr. Harper, who was committed
to Bridewell as a vagabond, in hopes to withdraw the attention of the
plaintiffs Counsel from the cause at Westminster, and to enrage the
publick, before whom he was to have appeared the same night in the
character of Sir John Falstaff: but they totally failed in each of
their ungenerous attempts, by the Company's permitting the imprisonment
of poor Harper, and the house forgiving his non-appearance. Harper's
case was afterwards argued before Lord Chief Justice Yorke by twelve
Counsellors, six for the plaintiffs, and the same number for the
defendants. The Judge admitted the player to bail upon his own
recognizance; and ordered a feigned issue, to try the validity of the
commitment on the last day of the term.

Charles Fleetwood, Esq. of Bromley-hall, Staffordshire, who was said
to be worth 8000_l. per annum_, purchased five of the six shares
of the patentees of Drury-lane Theatre in January 1734 for 3500_l._;
the seceding actors were determined in consequence to return to their
stations at that playhouse.

Plays were not entirely confined to the regular Theatres at this
period; for the Benchers of the Society of the Inner Temple gave a
splendid entertainment, February 2, to the Lord Chancellor, the Master
of the Rolls, Judges, Serjeants, and Counsellors at Law, when the
Comedy of Love for Love was acted by the Company from the Haymarket
on a temporary stage, fronting of which a gallery was erected for 100
ladies, who, with the Prince of Wales, the Duke of Cumberland, and many
noblemen, witnessed the performance: the actors received 50_l._ for
their exertions.

A baron of beef, weighing 175lb. and conveyed to the table by the
exertions of four men, formed part of the _solid_ entertainment
presented to these defenders of the laws of Great Britain.

On the 15th of March 1734, the Players of the Revels to the King,
assisted by Sheriffs-officers, went in a body to Drury-lane Theatre,
which was delivered into their possession by Mr. Fleetwood as a matter
of form.

Ranelagh-house, Chelsea, the residence of the nobleman of that title,
was sold in 1733 to an eminent builder named Timbrell for 3200_l._,
who advertised it for sale in the following year, as a freehold, with
garden, kitchen-garden, and offices, and a smaller house and garden
with fruit-trees, coach-houses, &c. &c. These, I apprehend, were the
first vicissitudes of Ranelagh, preparatory to its conversion into a
place of amusement.

Farinelli engaged to perform fifty nights during the season of 1734-5
for a salary of 1500 guineas and a benefit.

The King gave his annual 1000_l._ to the Managers of the Opera-house on
this occasion, and added 500_l._ as a subscription to Mr. Handel, who
had Operas at Covent-garden Theatre, in consequence of a dispute with
the latter, which caused an expenditure of 12,000_l._ at the Haymarket
and 9000_l._ to Handel.

Farinelli's benefit at the close of this season surpassed every other
previously received. The Theatre was so contrived as to accommodate
2000 spectators, whose admission money, added to the following sums
given by the Nobility, amounted to more than 2000_l._: the Prince of
Wales, 200 guineas; the Spanish Ambassador, 100_l._; the Imperial,
50_l._; the Duke of Leeds, the Countess of Portmore, Lord Burlington,
and the Duke of Richmond, 50_l._ each; Colonel Paget, 30_l._; and Lady
Rich, 20_l._ &c. &c. The pit was filled at four o'clock; and as the
Stage was crowded with beauty and fashion, no scenes were used during
the performance: gilt leather hangings were substituted, which usually
adorned that part of the Theatre at Ridottos. Many of the songs in
the Opera were new; that which preceded the chorus was composed by
Farinelli, and so vehemently applauded, that he sung it a second time
at the request of the audience, though the chorus was over, and the
musicians had retired from the orchestra.

The Prince of Wales soon after presented this favourite singer with a
richly wrought gold snuff-box set with rubies and diamonds, containing
a pair of diamond knee-buckles, and a purse of 100 guineas.

A great deal was written for and against Theatrical amusements in 1735,
when the Legislature intended to prevent an increase of Theatres, yet
but little information can be obtained from those essays; indeed the
matter of fact may almost be said to be confined to the statements in
the following extract from the Universal Spectator, No. 340: "What
will ensue from _new_ play-houses being erected may be seen by that
at Goodman's-fields: the street where it is built used formerly to
be inhabited by silk-throwsters, ribband-weavers, and others whose
trades employed the industrious poor; immediately on setting up this
Playhouse, the rents of the houses were raised, as the landlords could
then let them to more _profitable_ tenants; and now there is a bunch
of grapes hanging almost at every door; besides an adjacent Bagnio or
two; an undoubted proof that innocence and morality are not the certain
consequences of a Playhouse. I could urge this much farther; but, as
the regulation of the number of Theatres is now before the Parliament,
_they_ only are to determine whether the continuance of this Theatre,
or the increase of others, are consistent with the public good. Since
the above was written, I have received information that a great number
of apprentices and _gentlemen_, who play for their diversion, have
formed a new company at York-buildings, which shews the necessity for
the number of players and playhouses to be regulated, or else the whole
nation may degenerate into a set of Stage-players."

A shocking accident occurred during the representation of Dr.
Faustus at Covent-garden Theatre in October 1736. Four servants, the
_representatives_ of Lun, Nivelon, Salway, and Mrs. Moreau, in the
characters of harlequin, the miller, his wife, and man, had entered
a car which was to be supposed to convey them an aërial journey; but
unfortunately the wires broke when the machine had elevated the people
to the greatest height intended, whence they were precipitated on the
stage. Harlequin had his head bruised and wrist strained, the miller's
arm was broken, his man had his scull fractured, and died a few days
after, and the poor woman had a thigh broken and knee-pan shattered.

The Opera of Atalanta, composed by Handel, was acted at Covent-garden
Theatre in May 1736 in honour of the marriage of the Prince of Wales:
the scenery on this occasion was adapted to the circumstances of the
day, and represented an avenue to the Temple of Hymen intermixed with
statues of Deities, beyond which a triumphal arch supported the arms of
the happy pair; directly above, Fame, seated on a cloud, was supposed
to sound the names of Fredericus and Augusta exhibited in transparent
characters. Through the arch appeared the façade of a Temple,
consisting of four columns and a pediment, on which two Cupids were
represented embracing, and supporting the coronet and feathers of the
Principality of Wales: the Temple of Hymen closed the brilliant scene.

The proprietor of Vauxhall-gardens found it necessary to publish the
following statement in 1736:

"As the master of the Spring-gardens at Vauxhall has always
been ambitious of obliging the polite and worthy part of the
Town, by doing every thing in his power that may contribute
to their ease and pleasure: he for that reason was induced
to give out tickets, but in no other view than to keep
away such as are not fit to intermix with those persons of
quality, ladies, gentlemen, and others, who should honour
him with their company. This method he has already tried:
and the publick having been so indulgent as to approve of
his constant endeavours to serve them, it is with the utmost
regret he finds himself obliged to make a change with respect
to the tickets; and that for the following reasons.

"First, with regard to the conveniency of the company--his
entertainments being made (as he presumes) so very
reasonable, such numbers might probably be induced to flock
to it, from this large and populous City (and especially
in hot and sultry weather), that it would be impossible to
accommodate a great part of them. The consequence of this
would be, that as every person had paid a shilling for his
ticket, he would expect an equivalent for it; but, as there
would be no opportunity of doing this in the great hurry, it
might cause such a disturbance as would for ever ruin his
entertainment.

"Secondly, with respect to his own security--because
counterfeit tickets may be taken by the servants (who are
the first receivers) in a great hurry of business, as has
already been found by experience.

"Because of the ill use which his servants (who are very
numerous) make of the tickets, by admitting as many persons
as they please for nothing, and that in the following manner:

"A person takes a ticket at the door, and pays a shilling for
it; he then goes to a servant with whom he is acquainted,
who returns the shilling to him, and takes his ticket, for
which the master must allow the servant a shilling when he
comes to account with him. In this case, it is manifest,
the person is admitted for nothing. In the other case, the
servant may make a private advantage of the tickets, and that
as follows: a person sells his ticket to the servant (suppose
for ten pence), here the servant would gain two-pence, which
is all the person pays for being admitted; and the master
gets nothing, because he must allow the whole shilling to the
servant as above.

"As it is obvious from these several considerations, that
the company may be vastly incommoded, and the master in
danger of being ruined; because servants may be induced to
encourage great numbers of the inferior sort to come to the
gardens, since this would be so much to their advantage:
for these reasons he humbly presumes, that the publick will
be fully convinced of the necessity he is under of taking a
shilling at the gate for the future, without giving a ticket
for it; and his servants have strict orders to solicit no
person to call for any thing, upon pain of being immediately
discharged."

Some wags _amused_ the publick with a most solemn exhibition in June
1736, which originated from a call of Serjeants at Law. Those merry
gentlemen, well acquainted with classic story, dressed a huge _Owl_ in
a coif and band, and placed him on a broom staff over a door opposite
Lancaster-court. Minerva's favourite bird was afterwards observed to
behave with great gravity, and particularly during the time his learned
brethren were passing in procession under him; one flap of his band was
inscribed _Ecce!_ the other _Fratrem_.

The recent amusements afforded by riding asses as ponies, and racing
on them, although strong efforts of modern sagacity, were anticipated
by our forefathers. An Ass-race attracted vast crowds of people to
May-fair in 1736, where there was doubtlessly much good betting.

Fleetwood, the proprietor of Drury-lane Theatre, offered a reward
of fifty guineas for the discovery of the author or authors of an
incendiary letter sent to him in 1737:

"SIR,

"We are willing to admonish you before we attempt our design;
and provide you will use us civil, and admit us into your
gallery, which is our property according to formalities; and
if you think proper to come to a composition this way, you'll
hear no further; and if not, our intention is to combine in a
body _incognito_, and reduce the playhouse to the ground; we
are

"INDEMNIFIED."

Fog's Weekly Journal contains a well-written and whimsical explanation
of the motives which produced the above extraordinary letter--the
production, doubtless, of a Committee of aggrieved footmen, remarkable
then, and certainly at present, for _propriety of behaviour_ and
_modesty_ of demeanour.

March 12, 1737: "The footmen and other livery servants attending the
nobility and gentry frequenting the Theatre Royal in Drury-lane, having
(on account of their vociferations during the acts, as well as the
intervals) been expelled the uppermost gallery of the house, in which
they and their _ancestors_ had _sat_ and _voted_, in all affairs that
came upon the _Stage_, time immemorial; thus, conceiving themselves to
have an indefeasible hereditary right to the said gallery, and this
expulsion to be a high infringement on their liberties, and to the end
that posterity might see they were not wanting to vindicate the honour
of their cloth, and maintain the whole body of the _livery_ in the
full and free enjoyment of all their antient rights and privileges; on
Saturday night last a great number of them, provided with staves and
_truncheons_, and well-fortified with _three threads_ and _twopenny_,
assembled at the doors of the said Theatre, when their Royal Highnesses
the Prince and Princess of Wales, others of the Royal Family, and many
of the Nobility, were in the house; and having made a practicable
breach, entered at the same, and carried the stage-door by mere
dint of _oak_, bearing down all the _box-keepers, candle-snuffers,
supernumeraries, and pippin-women_, that stood in their way, in which
assault 25 or 26 persons were said to be desperately wounded. Justice
De Veil, _luckily chancing_ to be present in the house (as he was once
before when a disturbance of the like kind happened), immediately
interposed his Magisterial authority, commanding the proclamation
against riots to be read; but so great was the confusion, they might as
well have read _Cæsar's Commentaries_. At length the disorder boding
very bad consequences, the Justice, supported by the foot-guards,
prudently seized some of the principal rioters, and ordered them to be
reposited in Newgate, till their claims can be inquired into in a more
regular and judicial way, and the whole matter set in a true light.

"The Welsh footmen are said to have been the most contumacious in
this affair; for after several meetings and mature considerations
had, at the Goat and Harp alehouse, they unanimously resolved to
support this essential privilege, at the hazard of their limbs and
liveries; and likewise ordered a message to their brethren at the
Ship victualling-house in the Old Palace-yard, Westminster, requiring
the sense of that venerable body of _brass-button Senators_, at this
_knotty_ and critical conjuncture. Were these pertinacious _gentlemen_
but to look into history, they, perhaps, may find by what means their
_predecessors_ forfeited the privilege of wearing swords: for Rapin and
others write, "That in the fourth year of Henry VI. a Parliament was
held at Leicester, which was called the _Parliament of batts_, because,
their footmen not being allowed _swords_, they followed their masters
to the House with _batts_ and _cudgells_ in their hands. And it must be
allowed that they have made a pretty good use of them ever since."

Numbers of anonymous letters were thrown down the areas of people of
fashion after this affair, denouncing vengeance against those who
assisted in depriving them of their liberty and property, as they were
pleased to term their riots and the gallery of Drury-lane Theatre. Two
footmen were committed without bail or mainprize to answer for their
conduct; and, while in Newgate, received supplies of every kind through
the _generous subscriptions_ of their sympathising brethren. At the
same time 50 men mounted guard at the Theatre every night under the
direction of Colonel De Veil.

Mary-le-bon Gardens were opened previous to 1737; and till that year
were entered _gratis_ by all ranks of people; but the company resorting
to them becoming more respectable, Mr. Gough, the keeper, determined to
demand a shilling as entrance-money, for which the party paying was to
receive an equivalent in viands.

Mr. Chetwynd and Mr. Odell, Inspectors of Plays under the Lord
Chamberlain, were granted seats at each house _gratis_ in 1738.

The ensuing proposals were published by the master of Vauxhall-gardens
in March 1738:

"The entertainment will be opened the latter end of April or beginning
of May (as the weather permits), and continue three months or
longer, with the usual illuminations and band of musick, and several
considerable additions and improvements to the organ.

"A thousand tickets only will be delivered out, at 24 shillings each;
the silver of every ticket to be worth 3_s._ 6_d._ and to admit two
persons every evening (Sundays excepted) during the season.

"Every person coming without a ticket to pay 1_s._ each time for
admittance.

"No servants in livery to walk in the gardens.

"All subscribers are desired not to permit their tickets to get into
the hands of persons of evil repute, there being an absolute necessity
to exclude all such.

"All possible endeavours will be used that the particulars provided at
the entertainment may be the best in their several kinds; and, that the
Company may judge of the reasonableness of them, printed tables of the
prices of each will be fixed up in different parts of the gardens.

"Receipts will be delivering from this day till Thursday the 13th of
April inclusive, and no longer, by Mr. Thomas Cox, bookseller, under
the Royal Exchange; Mr. John Stagg, bookseller, in Westminster-hall;
and at the Spring-gardens above-mentioned; at all which places tickets
will be ready for delivery on Tuesday the 18th of April. N. B. As the
striking the tickets and engraving the names must necessarily employ a
considerable time, the subscribers are desired to take out receipts as
soon as may suit their conveniency, in order that the tickets may be
delivered at the time mentioned."

The Watermen's company gave notice, at the same time, that two of their
beadles would attend at Vauxhall-stairs from five o'clock till eleven,
to prevent impositions by the members of their Society.

Mrs. Arne sung at a Concert established in the succeeding winter at
the Great Room, Panton-street, the band of which was selected from
that of the Opera-house; but the singularity most attractive consisted
of an organ combined with a harpsichord played by clock-work, which
exhibited the movements of an orrery and air pump, besides solving
astronomical and geographical problems on two globes, and shewing the
moon's age with the Copernican system in motion; in the canopy, Apollo,
and the Muses, &c. &c.

A company of French Comedians hired the Little Theatre in the
Haymarket for the season of 1738, and attempted to play "_L'Embarras
des Richesses_;" but the audience, evidently assembled to drive the
performers from London, commenced a violent riot, in which they
proceeded till Mr. Hewit, a fencing-master, had one of his cheeks cut
almost off by a sword, and the actors had fled through the back-windows
into Suffolk-street; every thing that could be broken within the house
was completely demolished, and a wag, alluding to the title of the
play, wrote these lines:

"Zealous for Britain, and to teach it sense,
The Gallic players came over----_not for pence_;
And as first trials oft give projects health,
Wisely they open'd with "The Plague of Wealth."
The grateful Britons, conscious what they ow'd
For unsought favours with such grace bestow'd;
To prove they lik'd the donor's wholesome lore,
Return'd them _cashless_ to their native shore."

The assertion in the latter line however is not true, as a handsome
subscription was made to enable the disappointed Comedians to return in
comfort to France, which amounted to 600_l._

Handel hired the Opera-house in 1738, for the performance of Oratorios
twice a week.

One of the most extraordinary events upon record in the history of the
stage occurred in 1749, when the Duke of Montague, in concert with some
other wits, determined to make trial of the credulity of the publick,
in order to ascertain how far it would extend: in the accomplishment
of this purpose they inserted several most absurd and ridiculous
advertisements in the newspapers, one of which announced that on
Monday, the 16th of January, a man would enter a common wine-bottle
on the stage, and sing in it. Contrary to all _probable_ calculation,
the Little Theatre in the Haymarket received an overflowing audience,
who waited without musick and with exemplary patience till eight
o'clock. At that hour the usual testimonies of discontent appeared, to
the terror of the proprietors of the house. And the contrivers of the
scheme being now totally at a loss how to dismiss their dupes, a person
was at length deputed to offer the return of the admission-money. At
the same moment another unfortunately added, that the Conjuror would
enter a pint bottle for _double_ prices. The riot then became general,
and some injury occurred to the ladies' dresses and the gentlemen's
wigs in effecting their escape from the Theatre. A party who were
determined on mischief remained, and proceeded to demolish the boxes,
benches, scenes, &c. &c. which they carried into the street, and burnt
before the Guards arrived to prevent it.

Though the following incident, and some others of a similar nature,
are not intrinsically worth notice; yet, as they serve to fill the
general outline I have undertaken to sketch of the manners of the last
century, they are necessarily introduced. During the season of 1757 the
audience of Covent-garden Theatre missed their favourite actor Barry;
and finding that the month of December had arrived without producing
him, they loudly demanded his appearance, when Mr. Smith, stepping
forward, assured them, that to his knowledge Mr. Rich was then engaged
in a treaty with Mr. Barry. This information satisfied the majority;
but, several riotous persons continuing their vociferation, partial
battles took place in the pit, and even blood was shed before the civil
and military powers conveyed the delinquents to the office of Justice
Fielding.

An article inserted in the London Chronicle in November 1758 expresses
the writer's surprize that the Theatres and Opera-house were not
furnished with ventilators, as he was convinced many severe complaints
had been and were then caused by the profuse perspirations of
individuals suddenly encountering the chill air of the streets.

_Spouting_ Clubs, or, in other words, assemblies of persons ardent
admirers of the antient art of Acting, were known before the middle
of the century, and have flourished, under the influence of some
unavoidable mutations, to the present moment. The violent action
of the members, their improper emphasis, and their grimaces, have
frequently been successfully ridiculed; but the evil still exists in
private Theatres, where it is asserted some vices are acquired which
are not very creditable to the possessors; and I shall only add that
in my opinion youth is generally sufficiently presuming without having
recourse to this improper mode of _education_. Influenced by this
conviction, I am always grieved to hear of private plays at colleges
and schools, and particularly at _female_ boarding-schools. It is from
the latter custom, that we have witnessed so much folly in the recent
exhibition of heroes and legislators by _infant girls_ and _boys_,
whose feeble and shrill voices pronounce denunciations and elevated
sentiments which are often injured by the imperfect organs even of our
best tragic adults. To illustrate this assertion more forcibly, let
posterity be informed, that _we enlightened inhabitants_ of London
have actually listened to the ensuing speech with rapture uttered by
children under fifteen years of age, and little more than four feet in
height:

"_A thousand hearts are great within my bosom._
Advance our standards, set upon our foes,
Our antient word of courage, fair _St. George_,
Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons:
Upon them, Victory sits on our helms[204:A]."

Let it also be recorded, that the season of 1806 produced a _juvenile
Theatre_, which was well attended. But let us return to the
Spouting-clubs, lest we pass them without _due_ notice: that indeed
they received in 1759, when these excellent lines appeared in the
London Chronicle, to which I can add nothing new.

"THE SPOUTING CLUB.
_A Poetical Dish newly cooked up_
By RIGDUM FUNNIDOS, Esq.
Professor of Bombast and Blank Verse in the
University of Queerumania.
_Conamur tenues grandia._

"NOW o'er the world, in sable cincture clad,
Night rolls her awful clouds. Her misty veil
Hangs black'ning 'fore the eye, whose visual orb
In vain attempts to penetrate the gloom
Condens'd; save where the cotton 'mers'd in oil
Within some glassy concave yields its flame
Twinkling; and save where in the servile hand
Behind a rattling coach, the tædal stick
Held waving glimmers on the face of things.
Free from the business of the bustling day,
This interval indulging, to the Club
Of Spouters I repair; where mortal forms,
Borne high upon the feathers of conceit,
Rise into air; while puffing blasts of wind,
Bursting from loosely-flying Fancy's cave,
Blow them to regions where Theatra dwells.
Here, o'er the summit of a chair I loll;
My circumspective eyes explore the room.
A groupe of staring objects strike my sight;
Features distinct and various. While upon
The table's oval, the resplendent cup
Its pure contents and frothy surface boasts
Invigorant. Virginia's plant matur'd
Lies in the centre. With a clay-form'd tube
Each member graces his extended hand.
Above the rest, with looks erect and sage,
Deputed sits the regent of the night,
In elbow-chair pre-eminent. His hand
The silence-knocking hammer wields. Before
His optic balls are plac'd two shining plates,
Betwixt whose pewter confines, interspers'd
With glittering pieces of argental coin,
Lie wide-spread half-pence, jingling at the touch.
There great he sits, with glee magnificent,
The strong potation quaffing. On the slate
The num'rous pots he marks, with aspect keen.
So, with superior power invested, sits
A constable elate, in dome rotund,
Imbibing porter solid. With an air
Self-confident he scrawls the captive's name.
Now moves around, with circulation quick,
The tankard less'ning. Strait again receives
Its due completion. Like the changing tide
It ebbs and flows alternate. Curling spires
Ascending paint the plaster'd canopy
Fuliginous: the wafture dims the sight,
And thro' the smoaky mist the candles shine
Azure. But lo! a Roscian stands erect
Stentorophontes. Him long time I mark'd,
Saw meditation hover o'er his brow,
And all his faculties absorb'd in thought.
He bends his head addressive to the board,
And thus harangues--"Why sit we here thus mute,
"And frustrate all the purpose of our meeting?
"Already has the hoarse-lung'd watchman bawl'd
"Past nine o'clock." So saying, forth he stalks,
With step theatric. Mark his buskin tread,
And eye-balls rolling. Rang'd along the floor
The candles blaze. And now the signal giv'n,
All bend their eyes on him--No longer now
Pauses the youth, but storms in wild Macbeth.
Lo! now apparent on his horrid front
Sits grim distortion. Every feature's lost,
Screw'd horrible, unhumaniz'd--On stage
Of quack itinerant thus have I seen
An Andrew wring the muscles of his face,
Deforming nature, and extort the grin
And wonder of the many-headed crowd.
He spoke; when strait a loud applauding noise
Ensues: the clap of hands and thump of feet
Commingling. Knuckles on the table's verge
With fury beating, and the sound of sticks
Junctive confirm the rattle of applause.
Tremble the pewter vases, and within
The fluid fluctuates. The surging pipes
Roll from their beds of tin. The wooden plain
Is strew'd on all sides with the clatt'ring ruin.
Lo! now another of theatric mould
"Rises in clouded majesty," yclep'd
Ranter. Forth issue from his steaming mouth
These long imprisoned Alps of tow'ring smoke,
"Riding upon the bosom of the air."
Him had his inauspicious cruel stars
Destin'd to oil, to dress the flowing curl,
And with nice hand to weave the yielding hair.
But each revolving, rising, setting sun
Beheld this hero looking on his trade
With eyes indignant. His exalted soul
Launch'd 'yond the limits of his narrow sphere.
Fraught with extended notions of the stage,
His ample-daring mind the drama's laws
Sole entertain'd--The tonsor now assumes
The part of Richard, and with awkward strut
Affects majestic air.--So at the wake
Roger begins the dance, but, wanting skill,
Betrays himself unequal to the task.
Thy graceful periods, so oft admir'd,
Divine inspir'd Shakspeare! on his tongue
Imperfect die away. His labour'd speech
Sounds gutt'ral, like the hoarsely croaking race
Upon the banks of some pellucid stream.
Scarce had he finish'd, when salutes his ears
The mingled noise upon the dusty floor
Reverberated. Down the shaver sits
Well-pleas'd. And next upstarts Hibernia's son,
Like some enthusiast on a tripod rais'd
With apish gesture, and with strange grimace,
To rant unto the multitude. The cork
Intruded swift into the candle's blaze
Is nigrified, and marks th'aspiring youth
With whiskers bold. Ferocity now darts
From either eye her broad unmeaning stare;
In Bajazet he raves, and low'ring bids
Defiance. 'Yond just Nature's ample pow'r
He rants elaborate. His roaring voice
Calls echo forth respondent. On the mart
Of fishy Billingsgate thus have I heard
A harsh lung-cracking noise, nor yet to this
Dissimilar. He ended; but the tribe
Withhold the grasp'd-at banners of applause.
Then down he sits, with woeful aspect dull.
But strait emerging from a sea of thought,
He swallows hasty the salubrious stream,
And re-inthrones his abdicated soul.
Bronzoides next his meteor lays down
Igniferous. Him had his parents sent
To London (seat of business)--there the laws
Of England's state to learn and exercise.
For him a well-experienced Don was found,
Whose quick-turn'd eyes foresaw each quibble quaint,
And quirk evasive. As an osier light,
That bending yields to ev'ry blast of wind,
His heart to fraud was flexible,--his heart,
Where dark Deceit, in honest guise array'd,
Had sown its seeds, and poison'd ev'ry grain
Which, warm'd by potent Truth's congenial ray,
With Virtue's plenteous harvest might have teem'd.
But fruitless was the youth's parental aim,
Tho' sedulous. For scarce two years had roll'd
Since fair Augusta first had bless'd his eyes,
When great Bronzoides first soliloquiz'd:
'Was it for this, that o'er the classic deep
I sail'd, and landed on poetic shores?
Have I for this flew round the Aonian mount
With plumes immortal, and so often play'd
With spotless Muses, in Pierian meads?
Am I, ye Gods, eternally to scribe
Inglorious? No--Some power uplifts my soul,
Buoyant, above the common class of earth's
Dull reptiles. Hence, ye wrong-adjudg'd Reports;
Ye dry collections, hence. I leave ye all
To those grave, solid-looking fools, whose ears
Tautology best charms. Oh! Shakspeare, come
With all thy pupils. Fire my glowing breast,
Expand my genius, and enlarge my soul.'
Kindled that instant at the raptur'd thought,
His intellects, high tow'ring flew to realms
Dramatic. There the storehouse of his brain
He fill'd redundant. Here he tries his skill
Theatric, ere upon the graceful stage
With steps adventurous he dares to tread.
So children dabble in the shallow stream
Playful, till fear forsakes their little souls;
Then bold they rush into the middle Thames.
'List, list, O list'--Oh! how his tuneful voice
Rises and falls, as Oysterella's soft
And strong, when ev'ry street and curving lane
Adjacent echo the testaceous cry.
He spouted--and receiv'd his share of praise.
Inflated with the swellings of conceit,
And newly flush'd with large-aspiring hopes
Of excellence, uprises Leatheronzo
Fam'd. In repairing worn-out calcuments
None was his equal. No one better knew
The pointed awl to handle. Yet his breast
With rage dramatic glow'd. In mad-struck Lear
The scene he opens: but for want of crown
Paus'd his mock-majesty. Around the place
Long time his eyes terrific roll'd. At length
'In a black corner of the room he spied'
An empty urinal--Fir'd at the sight,
He snatch'd the vacuum, and to his head
Adapted it well pleas'd. Now, now he raves
With brazen lungs, until a sudden jerk
His action terminates. Upon the floor
Down drops the jordan. As it rolls along
It rings applause unto his list'ning ear.
Lo! now springs forward with elastic step,
A son of Comedy, Soccado call'd.
The tunic dazzling with its golden pride,
The button-hole gay-wrought with wondrous art,
The mode-cut collar, and well-fancied sleeve,
Had oft proclaim'd his taste. Yet not to this
Was his great soul confin'd. Theatra now,
Dramatic goddess, whispers in his ear,
And bids him shine away in Foppington.
Where's now that stately flatness of the gait?
That easy stiffness where? so often seen
In thee, O Cibber! and so oft admir'd,
Alas! how faintly, rudely copied here!
With joints inflexible, and neck oblique,
An object stiff'ning to the sight he stands
In attitude unmeaning, and deprives
Each injur'd word of its emphatic due.
He finish'd, when the wonted noise begins,
Loud as his all-attentive ears can wish;
Nor less than that which shakes the bending stairs
To the Theatric semicircled seats,
Hight upper gallery, ductive, when some
Grand-habited scene-boasting pantomime,
From 'hind their compters, and from cleaning knives,
And from tenebrious porter-breathing cells,
Where all day long in glee they tippling sat,
Calls forth the terrene quick-ascending gods.
Prologues and epilogues increase the sport,
To periodize the humours of the night
Now far advanced; goes round the jovial song,
The laugh-exciting catch, or wanton tale
Re-iterated. Bacchus, King of Joys,
Twines not his vine-branch here. "Trueman's entire"
Reigns arbitrary. With its vapours bland
Their giddy-rolling heads anointed turn
Upon an axis brittle. Total noise
Its anarchy extends. But oh! how soon
Terrestrial mirth evaporates. Amidst
Their jocund glee, and lovely-floating hours,
Enter the Constables. Ten watchmen brave
Their presence dignify. Amazement chill
Sits on each spouting face. So looks the wretch
Involv'd in debt, when first he spies the front--
The front most hated of a Catch-pole grim.
Not e'en Macbeth stands more appall'd with fear,
When murder'd Banquo's horrid-glaring ghost
Disturbs the regal banquet. Such, so great
Their fear unmanly, that their passive souls
To their hard fate submit. Restless all,
All walk desponding to the round-house dire;
And one sad exit terminates the scene.
All hail to thee! thou young dramatic bard!
Ingenious M-rp-y, hail! Before thy shrine
I bend the knee. This epidemic rage
Well hast thou ridicul'd. Oh! may thy scenes
On Fame's high-pending annals be enroll'd:
And as thy Muse shall henceforth deign to grace
Th'enlighten'd scene, and with a steady hand
To hold up Nature's mirrour, may the tribe
Of snarling Critics, with invidious eyes,
View the bright image, and confess it true."

The reader will of course forgive the chasms in dates which he
frequently meets with, by recollecting that most of the amusements of
the people of London occur in succession annually: the Theatres, the
Opera, concerts, exhibitions, Ranelagh, and Vauxhall, have always had
their regular stated periods of opening; and when nothing remarkable
took place at either, it is by no means necessary they should be
mentioned under every year. The Vauxhall season of 1759 produced
some unpleasant animadversions; and the proprietors were publicly
called upon to prevent the infamous conduct of loose women and their
male companions, whose yells have been described as issuing from the
dark walks in sounds full as terrific as "the imagined horror of
Cavalcanti's bloodhounds:" indeed the latter were charged with driving
ladies from their friends into those recesses where dangerous terrors
were wantonly inflicted.

HANDEL'S DECEASE

Occurred on the 6th of April, 1759. As this eminent composer may
justly be said to have formed a new æra of musick in England, and to
have established the Opera, and the fame of his Oratorios perhaps
for centuries to come; a sketch of his life from his arrival in this
Island cannot be altogether unacceptable, particularly as it must
contain a general history of those amusements with which he became
connected. Handel was born at Hall in Upper Saxony February 24, 1684,
but did not visit England till he had attained his 26th year, and when
perfect master of his profession. The stranger, though only upon leave
of absence from the Court of Hanover, where he received a pension of
1500 crowns _per annum_, and held the place of Master of the Elector's
chapel, was presented to Queen Anne, and favourably received; thus
honoured, Handel soon enjoyed the patronage of her courtiers, and
immediately commenced his career by correcting the errors of the
_Italian_ Opera, if that could be so called which had been translated
into the _English_ language. As this celebrated composer found it, the
most pathetic parts of the Italian musick frequently fell upon words
expressive of anger, and _vice versâ_; he therefore composed Rossi's
Rinaldo, written after an outline by Aaron Hill, who favoured the
publick with an English version of it.

When Handel had remained here one year, the full term of his leave of
absence, he returned to Hanover, but promised to re-visit the Queen
at the first convenient opportunity: that occurred in 1712, and he
composed his _Te Deum_ and _Jubilate_ after the signing of the peace
of Utrecht. Queen Anne, highly gratified with his exertions, granted
him a pension of 200_l._ for life, and added her commands to the
solicitations of the Nobility, that he should assume the management of
the Opera-house. This he complied with, and violated in consequence an
engagement he was under to return to the Elector's Court. When that
Prince ascended the British throne, Handel, conscious of his offence,
dared not venture into his presence; and his friends even thought
stratagem preferable to intercession in restoring him to favour. To
accomplish this, Baron Kilmanseck and several of the English nobility
engaged the King in a party of pleasure upon the Thames: at that hour
of relaxation the King was surprized with those grand movements yet
known as Handel's Water-piece, which were composed expressly for the
occasion, and performed under his direction in a boat attendant on
the Monarch. The scheme was successful beyond expectation; and from
that hour the fortunate musician received both honours and rewards
from George I. The Earl of Burlington and the Duke of Chandos were
his warmest patrons and admirers: the latter indeed retained him at
Canons as master of his splendid choral establishment for the offices
of religion; and as Buononcini and Attilio were then composers for the
Opera, he did not frequently interfere with their province.

At length the period arrived destined to rouse the powers of Handel
as a composer and a tyrant. Several persons of distinction had
determined to found an Academy of Musick in the Haymarket, in order
to insure a constant supply of Operas from the pen of the unrivalled
Saxon, which they intended should be performed under his direction.
The subscription for this purpose amounted to 50,000_l._; and they
procured the King's name for 1000_l._ to grace the head of the list.
Thus authorised and enabled, Handel went to Dresden for performers
of celebrity, and engaged Senesino and Duristanti, with whom he
returned to England, when they acted his Opera of Radamisto to a
most crowded audience, which honoured him with the loudest plaudits.
From that day the powerful partizans of Buononcini, and those of
Handel, became irreconcileable enemies; though their enmity was so
far controuled as to permit an agreement between them, that the rival
masters should alternately compose the acts of Mutius Scævola, and thus
afford a criterion by which their superiority was to be determined.
Handel conquered; and, his reputation firmly established, he reigned
sole monarch of the Academy for nine years. At the close of that
period Senesino accused Handel of oppression, and Handel treated
Senesino as a rebel against his authority; the publick immediately
divided on this important question; and, to complete their vexation,
Faustina and Cuzzoni quarrelled. Harmony ceased in every point of
view, and the Academy was dissolved; but Handel maintained his
post at the Haymarket, where he soon discovered that with Senesino
he had dismissed the majority of his audiences. In this dilemma he
entered into an agreement with the celebrated Heidegger to perform
Operas on their own account; they accordingly engaged several new
performers; but the Nobility, exasperated at the Saxon's tyrannical
conduct, entered into a subscription, with which they opened the
Theatre in Lincoln's-inn-fields, countermatching his Italians with
the incomparable Farinelli. The contest was continued three years in
conjunction with Heidegger; and Handel persisted one year after his
partner retired: he then left the Haymarket to his rivals.

Chagrined and disappointed, he endeavoured to establish himself at
Lincoln's-inn-fields, and afterwards became a partner with Mr. Rich at
Covent-garden Theatre, where he found, to his great mortification, that
his musick, however sublime, was not a match for Farinelli's voice;
yet he persisted till he had almost ruined his fortune, and actually
deranged his faculties, besides causing a paralytic stroke, which
deprived him of the use of his right arm: he was however recovered from
the latter calamities by using the baths of Aix-la-chapelle about the
year 1736.

Fortunately for Handel the publick were pleased with the performance
of his Alexander's Feast at Covent-garden Theatre soon after his
return; and, to add to his good fortune, he was solicited to compose
two Italian Operas for Lord Middlesex, who had been compelled to take
the direction of this difficult concern upon himself, to preserve it
from total ruin. His success on this occasion operated powerfully with
the multitude; and a benefit produced him 1500_l._ in the year 1738.
An opportunity thus offered to effect a complete reconciliation with
his former employers; but that asperity of temper and impatience of
controul which always marked his character induced him to reject every
proposal connected with subscriptions. After several unsuccessful
attempts to establish the Opera at Covent-garden Theatre, he turned
his attention to the composition of Oratorios, which he intended
should have been _acted_ and sung; but the popular opinion, that such
representations from Scripture would be a profanation of religion,
deterred him from the design; and he caused them to be sung only as
they are at present.

Similar to most human inventions, the Oratorio was of little service
to the _Author_: posterity, according to custom, has had the honour of
rewarding Handel's _memory_; and if an Angel composed new ones, they
would certainly not succeed, till he had fled from the earth half a
century, and till Handel has had _his_ day.

The Irish nation received our great musician and his oratorios with
complacency; and as he gave the produce of the first performance of his
Messiah in Dublin to the City prison, he soon secured their patronage.
After considerably improving his circumstances, he returned to England,
where his oratorios recovered from their previous depression, and
received that approbation which a dread of having lost them probably
excited. Handel gave the profits of an annual performance of the
Messiah to the Foundling Hospital; and attended their oratorios
regularly long after he had lost his sight by a _gutta serena_, and
till within eight days of his death.

His present Majesty is passionately fond of Handel's musick; and that
the publick are not less so, may be inferred by the eternal repetition
of his Oratorios during the season of Lent; by which means, I shall
be excused in observing, modern musical genius is depressed, and
the pockets of conductors more readily filled. Hence the tiresome
selections upon festivals and at concerts, where, if the audience is
surprised by _a new_ movement, they exclaim, "Ah! this is _not like_
Handel's strains:"--True, but may they not be equally delightful?

The first _description_ of an Opera which I have met with is in the
eleventh number of the Theatre, for November 18, 1758. As the writer
appears to have entered into the subject with more than usual spirit,
its insertion may possibly prove acceptable to the reader; but he will
immediately discover that even our Theatres for pantomime now rival the
antient Opera.

"King's Theatre. On Saturday the 18th instant was performed a new Opera
called _Attalo_, with new decorations and dances. I have already thrown
out a few loose hints with regard to the abovementioned performance;
and as in this place I propose speaking of it a little more at large,
I shall begin with observing, that an Opera has in one particular a
manifest advantage over almost every theatrical entertainment, by
admitting of that kind of shew and decoration, which if not absolutely
rejected by the other daughters of the Drama, is at least, generally
speaking, forced upon them: that is to say, though we sometimes see
triumphs and processions in a few of our tragedies and comedies, yet
the best judges have always looked on them as childish and ridiculous:
whereas, the only design of an Opera being to delight, that gay finery
which looks so unbecoming and out of character upon her two elder
sisters, is a necessary part of her dress; and as nobody understands
the method of placing those ornaments better than Mr. Vaneschi, so in
the present case I think he has taken all the care imaginable to set
off _Attalo_ to the best advantage.

"But a dry and circumstantial description of these matters would not
only fall very short of what is meant to give an idea of, but also
be tedious to the readers: for this reason therefore I shall hardly
attempt to do any thing more in the present essay than to assure them
that the finest scenes, the finest pantomime hitherto invented, even
by that father of pantomimes himself, the manager of Covent-garden
playhouse, are considerably inferior to those in the Opera of _Attalo_;
but particularly, in the first act, where Semiramis enters in a
triumphal car, supported by Medean and Bactrian slaves, and surrounded
by a number of Assyrian soldiers who carry the spoils and trophies
of an enemy which she is supposed lately to have conquered, we are
presented with the scene of a square; not a dead piece of painted
canvass, but one in which the prospective is executed in so masterly a
manner, that one would almost swear it was something more than a mere
_deceptio visûs_; to which, by the way, a pedestrian statue, which is
elevated in the centre of the buildings, does not a little contribute.

"Scenes of this kind are seldom if ever to be seen in a common Theatre,
where the other charges are so large and numerous, as well as the price
so confined, that the profits of such a pompous apparatus would by no
means answer the expence: the place in our English plays also is too
often varied to allow of it; besides, the business of these stages is,
properly speaking, to provide the understanding with substantial food,
not to treat it with conserves and sweatmeats; and from this reason it
proceeds that dances, which at the playhouses are only made use of as
a garnish, are at the Opera (which may not unaptly be compared to a
dessert or a collation) one of the principal parts of the entertainment.

"I should be extremely glad were it in my power to oblige the readers
even with a faint idea of these: they all know, I believe, that Signior
Galini is universally allowed to be one of the finest dancers in
Europe; but at the King's Theatre, where he at present performs, he not
only gives us the strongest proofs of his executive powers, but also
of his skill in designing, by having composed three of the prettiest
ballets I ever saw; and for plot, movement, humour, and, if I may make
use of the expression, gesticulated wit, they are equal, I believe, to
any, even of those which Lewis the Fourteenth himself was so fond of.

"In the first dance, the scene of which, by the way, may more properly
be called an emulation than a copy of nature, being that of a forest
half cut down, where the trees are represented in the liveliest
manner, and the prospect of clouds and blue mountains extended to an
amazing distance; Forti and Bononi, in the characters of a woodman
and his wife, carry the grotesque to a most entertaining degree of
extravagance. Bononi is allowed to excel in this way every one who has
gone before her; for Galini, as his genius is very different, so it is
greatly preferable to this. His dancing indeed may be considered as a
kind of dumb musick, since there is hardly a note which he does not
express by some significant gesture. Carlini, his partner, is pretty
much in the same mode, and when they appear after the second act in a
very extensive plain, interspersed with villages, there cannot perhaps
be imagined two more agreeable figures. But the third and last ballet,
in which the four principal dancers come out together, surpasses all
the rest. The prospect is that of a rock, which being open in two or
three different places, discovers a wide river, and, in appearance,
at least half a mile long, the transparency of the water is so well
imitated, that we see the shadows of several flags and bullrushes,
which grow upon it; nor is a distant village, which appears at one
side, a small addition to the beauty of the view: down this rock come
the figure dancers, who are met at the door of a cottage by Signior
Galini and his friends; it is a kind of rural feast, and the music is
so antic and lively, that that alone would be sufficient, I should
think, to put an audience into a good humour.

"I had forgot to mention a scene in this Opera which is remarkably
beautiful; I am told it was painted by the celebrated Salvandoni, and
is the representation of a magnificent hall, adorned with arms and
trophies. There was a full house; and the spectators expressed their
approbation by unanimous applause."

The Oratorio of Judas Maccabæus was performed on the 18th of January
1760 at the Music-room in Dean-street, Soho, which was the first night
of subscription. The pit seats were 10_s._ 6_d._ and the gallery 5_s._;
the performers Signora Passerini, Miss Frederick, Mr. Hudson, and Mr.
Champness; and the chorus contained the best singers of the Chapel
Royal and St. Paul's. The music-room is now Christie's Auction-room for
furniture, and seems in a state of ruin.

WHITE CONDUIT HOUSE[224:A].

_And to_ White Conduit _House
We will go, will go, will go_.

Grub-street Register.

"Wish'd Sunday's come--mirth brightens ev'ry face,
And paints the rose upon the house-maid's cheek,
Harriot, or Moll, more ruddy. Now the heart
Of prentice resident in ample street,
Or alley kennel-wash'd, Cheapside, Cornhill,
Or Cranborne, thee for calcuments renown'd,
With joy distends. His meal meridian o'er,
With switch in hand, he to the White Conduit House
Hies merry-hearted. Human beings here
In couples multitudinous assemble,
Forming the drollest groupe that ever trod
Fair Islingtonian plains. Male after male,
Dog after dog succeeding--husbands--wives--
Fathers and mothers--brothers--sisters--friends
And pretty little boys and girls. Around,
Across, along, the garden's shrubby maze,
They walk, they sit, they stand. What crowds press on
Eager to mount the stairs, eager to catch
First vacant bench or chair in long-room plac'd!
Here prig with prig holds conference polite,
And indiscriminate the gaudy beau
And sloven mix. Here he, who all the week
Took bearded mortals by the nose, or sat
Weaving dead hairs, and whistling wretched strain--
And eke the sturdy youth, whose trade it is
Stout oxen to contund,--with gold-bound hat
And silken stocking strut. The red-arm'd belle
Here shews her tasty gown, proud to be thought
The butterfly of fashion: and forsooth
Her haughty mistress deigns for once to tread
The same unhallow'd floor--'Tis hurry all
And rattling cups and saucers. Waiter here,
And waiter there, and waiter here and there,
At once is call'd--Joe--Joe--Joe--Joe--Joe--
Joe on the right--and Joe upon the left,
For ev'ry vocal pipe re-echoes Joe.
Alas, poor Joe! Like Francis in the Play
He stands confounded, anxious how to please
The many-headed throng. But should I paint
The language, humours, custom of the place,
Together with all curt'sies, lowly bow,
And compliments extern, 'twould swell my page
Beyond its limits due. Suffice it then
For my prophetic Muse to say, 'So long
As Fashion rides upon the wing of Time,
While tea and cream and butter'd rolls can please,
While rival beaux and jealous belles exist,
So long, White-conduit house, shall be thy fame.'

W. WOTY."

One of the entertainments of 1760 was the performance on goblets
containing water at different heights, which, rubbed on the rims by a
wet finger, produces very sweet sounds, and when rapidly combined will
make complete musick. Mr. Puckeridge was celebrated for performances of
this description, which were much admired for some time, but are now
nearly out of fashion.

One of the characteristicks of our various Theatres is the benefits,
or, more properly speaking, the plays which are acted at the close of
each season for the individual profit of the several performers. When
an actor takes a benefit, he pays all the expences of the evening, and
incurs the risk of great charges and small profits. Under the dread
of losing, he exerts every nerve to fill the Theatre, and frequently
lays heavy contributions on tradesmen, who, through some existing
circumstances, think themselves bound to take tickets, and dispose
of them as they can to their friends: and he solicits the wealthy
without risking the imputation of mendicacy, because they know the
actor has from 10_l._ to 20_l. per_ week salary. The benefit-night at
length arrives, and the doors are besieged at an early hour by crowds
determined not to lose the entertainment they have unwillingly paid
for; in due time they rush forward, clamour prevails, and the quiet
casual spectator is entirely deprived of hearing the play[227:A].
Mrs. Clive, the justly celebrated comic actress, has enabled me to
illustrate this subject by the following spirited letter, addressed
to "the Author of the Daily Gazetteer," concerning her benefit,
and printed in April 1761. If the reader should wish still further
illustrations, I beg leave to refer him to the various _apologies_
for theatrical lives which have been published by Cibber, Bellamy,
Wilkinson, &c. &c.

"SIR, As I never read your paper, I did not hear of the
malicious letter you had published against my benefit, till
the very day, when it was too late to endeavour to prevent
the mischief it might do me, as it was most artfully put in
your paper the day before, as well as the day of my play. It
is dated from George's Coffee-house; but your correspondent
must excuse me for not believing it came from thence, as
I have always heard that Coffee-house was frequented by
gentlemen, not one of whom, I am confident, would have done
me an undeserved mischief. I could not possibly suppose Mr.
Shuter was capable of asking any body to write such a letter
for him, as I never did him, or any performer, the least
injury; on the contrary, I have had the greatest pleasure
when it has been in my power to serve them in their benefits,
from the highest class of actors down to the very lowest.
But though he was not concerned in the writing of it (as
he has declared he was not), it is too palpable to admit
of the least doubt, that it must be wrote by some of his
acquaintance, in order to serve his benefit by destroying
mine.--That indeed was not quite in their power, as I had
the honour to have a most noble and splendid appearance of
persons of the first distinction that night at my play; who
have been constant in their goodness and favour to me, and
who were not to be influenced by a wretched Letter-writer.
The loss I most certainly sustained by it I should have
submitted to in silence, as it is with the utmost diffidence
and reluctance I appear before the public in this light:
but there is a most malicious and wicked insinuation in his
letter, which I think myself under an absolute necessity to
reply to.

"The Letter-writer, with great ease, desires the Publick not
to go to my benefit, notwithstanding I had taken infinite
pains to endeavour to entertain them the whole season
through; his reason for that extraordinary request is, that
I was to have a French farce, wrote by a poor wretched
author, translated into English, and called _The Island of
Slaves_:--and then, with great art and malice, he jumbles
together some popular words, as, _French Farce_, _English
Liberty_, _Island of Slaves_! 'What can Englishmen have to
do in the _Island of Slaves_?' Poor wretched insinuation! Is
it possible for any body to suppose, if there had been one
syllable in the piece that had the least tendency to sneer
at, or affront, the liberties of this country, that the
managers would have suffered it to have been acted; or that
the Lord Chamberlain would have given his sanction; or that I
could have been such a fool as to dare to affront the publick
with such a performance on my own benefit-night? I hope I may
be indulged (though a woman) to say I have always despised
the French Politicks; but I never yet heard that we were at
war with their Wit.

"It is imputed to _me_, by the author of the letter, as a
crime, that I should have a piece taken from the French
for my benefit; when at the same time I believe one part
in three of the Comedies and little pieces, that are now
acting at both the Theatres, are acknowledged to be taken
from the French; besides those that both antient and modern
authors have sneaked into the Theatres without confessing
from whence they came. I shall take the liberty to mention
two that are known translations: _The Confederacy_, by Sir
John Vanbrugh, one of our best Comedies, revived about two
years ago, and acted to crowded houses with great applause;
_The Guardian_, another French piece, brought on about
the same time, and received with the highest approbation:
both these performances acted at a time when we were at war
with France, as we are now. 'Ay,' but says the good-natured
Letter-writer, '_The Island of Slaves_ (tremendous title!)'
I think I have made his malice appear pretty plain; I shall
not have the least difficulty in making his ignorance full as
conspicuous. It does not seem, by the style of his letter,
that he is very intimately acquainted with his own language,
but it is evident he knows nothing of the French; for if
he had been capable of reading Mons. Marivaux's _Isle des
Esclaves_, he could not have been quite so clumsy a critick,
as to say he is a poor paltry author, when he is acknowledged
by all people of taste and judgment to be one of the very
best writers the French have. Then, as to his malicious
insinuation, _The Island of Slaves_ is so very far from being
a satire upon English liberty, that there is the highest
compliment paid to it: the people of that island having
quitted their native country (Athens) because 'they would not
be Slaves,' and established themselves in an island, where,
when their passions have subsided, and they begin to forget
the injuries they received in their own country, they make
the most noble, humane, sensible laws. I cannot pretend to
give an account of the whole piece in this letter; but I may
with great truth say, there was not any thing in it that
was exceptionable; great spirit and humour in two of the
characters, and fine sentiments throughout the whole; some
part, perhaps, too grave for what is generally expected in
pieces after a play. I shall beg leave to insert a few lines
(not a translation) which concluded the piece: after Philo
(one of the Islanders) has convinced the Athenians, who are
then in his power, of their follies, he promises to provide
them ships to send them into their own country; Cleanthe (one
of the characters) says:

'We are all equally obliged to you, most amiable
Philo, for your goodness to us; and if we should be
so fortunate to arrive safe at Athens, I hope we
shall have influence enough to prevail with them,
when we recount our adventures, to imitate the
incomparable laws of this ever happy Island.'

"I have done with your Correspondent: now, Mr. Gazetteer, I
must say two or three words to you. I desire you would let
me know who was the author of that letter; or it is possible
I may convince you, I am so truly an English woman, and so
little inclined to be a _slave_, as not to suffer any one to
do me an injury with impunity.

"I am informed, you have more than once drawn yourself into
scrapes, by the delicacy of your paper. If you comply with
this request, in giving up your author, I shall think you
intend to reform your manners; and in that case you will
stand a chance of being read by your humble servant,

C. CLIVE.

"_Henrietta-street, Covent-garden,
April 3, 1761._

"P.S. If I can have leave from the person who did me the
honour to translate _The Island of Slaves_ for me, I shall
print it; when every one that pleases may see how extremely
ill I have been treated."

Benefits more congenial to the benevolent mind are, much to the credit
of the proprietors of our places of public amusement, frequently given
to Charitable Institutions: a short bill dated in May 1761 will explain
those as they were and are now announced:

"Ranelagh-house, Tuesday the 9th of June, will be an Assembly for
the benefit of the Middlesex Hospital. The doors will be open, and
the concert begin, at the usual time. At ten o'clock a magnificent
fire-work will be played off on the canal in the garden; and to
conclude with a ball.

"N. B. There will be no collection made for the Charity. Tickets half a
guinea each, &c."

I have in another place recommended the reader to visit Smithfield at
eleven o'clock at night, in order to obtain a perfect knowledge of the
_amusements_ substituted for a Fair. The facetious George Alexander
Steevens wrote the following ludicrous but strictly just description
of it about 1762:

"Here was, first of all, crowds against other crowds driving,
Like wind and tide meeting, each contrary striving;
Shrill fiddling, sharp fighting, and shouting and shrieking,
Fifes, trumpets, drums, bagpipes, and barrow-girls squeaking,
Come, my rare round and sound, here's choice of fine ware,
Though _all_ was not sound sold at _Bartelmew_ Fair.
There was drolls, hornpipe-dancing, and showing of postures,
With frying black-puddings, and opening of oysters;
With salt-boxes, solo's, and gallery folks squawling;
The tap-house guests roaring, and mouth-pieces bawling;
Pimps, pawnbrokers, strollers, fat landladies, sailors,
Bawds, baillies, jilts, jockeys, thieves, tumblers, and taylors:
Here's Punch's whole play of the Gunpowder plot,
Wild beasts all alive, and pease-pudding all hot,
Fine sausages fried, and the black on the wire;
The whole court of France, and nice pig at the fire;
Here's the up-and-downs, who'll take a seat in the chair?
Tho' there's more up-and-downs than at Bartelmew Fair.
Here's Whittington's cat, and the tall dromedary,
The chaise without horses, and Queen of Hungary;
Here's the merry-go-rounds, 'Come, who rides? come, who rides?' Sir;
Wine, beer, ale, and cakes, fire-eating besides, Sir.
The fam'd learned dog, that can tell all his letters;
And some men, as scholars, are not much his betters."

Drury-lane Theatre was much improved in 1762, by lengthening the
stage, enlarging the boxes and pit, and rebuilding the galleries. This
alteration probably originated from the hopes of additional profit.
Another in the management had its rise from the same cause; but the
publick were less satisfied than with the former, as in the latter the
advantage was by no means mutual between the proprietors and their
patrons. The managers intimated that nothing under full prices would be
taken during the performance; and the intimation received no opposition
till January 1763: at that period symptoms of resistance appeared;
and the publick complained that the time had been when they were
admitted to the boxes for 4_s._ 6_d._ to witness plays performed by
Booth, Wilkes, Cibber, Doggett, Norris, Penkethman, Johnson, Griffin,
Porter, and Oldfield; and were then compelled to pay 5_s._ to hear
_half a play_ acted by Garrick, Cibber, Yates, King[236:A], Packer[236:A],
Holland, Obrien[236:B], Bransby, Palmer, and Ackman.

The audience of Covent-garden Theatre seized the first opportunity
of demanding that full prices should no longer be insisted upon for
half plays and the farce, except when new pieces were represented; and
received a promise from the proprietors of acceding to their wishes.

Mr. Garrick of Drury-lane Theatre resisted, and published this notice
in the Advertiser:

"The Managers of Drury-lane Theatre having been suddenly called upon
last night, to answer the charge of an innovation in regard to their
prices, Mr. Garrick acquainted the audience that he was not conscious
that the managers had done any thing in this respect, in which they
were not fully authorised by the established usage of the Theatre;
and that, if there had been the slightest innovation, it should be
rectified:--and this unexpected complaint being grounded on the
assertion contained in a printed paper, which had been the same day
industriously circulated in Coffee-houses, and distributed through
every part of the Theatre, Mr. Garrick promised to publish a full
answer to the charges contained in that paper; but, the clamour still
continuing, the performance of the play was entirely prevented. The
Managers, therefore, find themselves under the necessity of informing
the publick, that a full and satisfactory answer will be published
accordingly; and it is hoped that they will, with their usual candour,
suspend their judgment on this occasion till the appearance of such
answer, which will be in a few days."

The Tragedy of "Elvira" was announced for the evening succeeding the
above address; and the Theatre was filled by a number of persons, who
were determined to enforce their resolution of seeing plays as usual at
half price. They commenced their operations by ordering the orchestra
to play the musick of "Roast-beef" and "Britons strike home," which
was complied with. When Mr. Holland appeared to speak the Prologue, he
was immediately driven from the stage: Mr. Garrick then came on, and
endeavoured to explain his reasons for the alteration complained of;
but in vain, and the tumult was excessive. The following question at
length issued from the pit: "Will you, or will you not, give admittance
for half price after the third act, except during the first winter of a
new Pantomime?" The Manager again attempted to explain without effect:
_yes_, or _no_, were the only words granted him. _Yes_, accompanied
by an expression of indignation, escaped the lips of Roscius; and the
Theatre shook with sounds of triumph.

Mr. Ackman, who had offended the audience on the evening when this
affair was first noticed by the publick, then received a summons to
appear and apologise for his conduct: this order he promptly obeyed;
but our old veteran Moody, when called upon for the same purpose,
seemed refractory, or was misconceived, through the noise which
issued from all parts of the Theatre. The audience commanded him, in
consequence, to drop upon one knee, and thus solicit their pardon: this
imperious order justly roused the actor's resentment, and he retired
without compliance. Mr. Garrick was afterwards obliged to promise, Mr.
Moody should not appear again upon his stage till he had appeased their
displeasure: the play then went on as usual.

Mr. Beard conceived himself under the necessity of publishing "The case
concerning the late disturbance at Covent-garden Theatre fairly stated,
and submitted to the sense of the publick in general," which follows.

"As the opposition to _full price_ at Drury-lane Theatre was founded
upon the pretence of its having been exacted on unjustifiable
occasions, it was imagined, that let what would be the event of
that dispute, the Managers of Covent-garden Theatre ought in no sort
to be affected by it, as no such complaint had ever been pretended
against them; yet, when Mr. Garrick thought proper to wave his private
advantage, for the sake of the public peace, it was deemed necessary
for the same laudable purpose, to perform such pieces only for the
present at Covent-garden, as could by no means bring the point, which
had been so lately and so violently agitated, into immediate debate
again, and even latter account was taken to _Love in a Village_.

"When the Opera of _Artaxerxes_ was revived (a piece as distinct from
the common course of business as even an _Oratorio_ itself), it was
generally understood, the peculiarity of the performance, together with
the apparent extraordinary expence attending it, would sufficiently
exempt it from the limitations which had been prescribed at the other
Theatre; accordingly it was advertised, in the same manner it had ever
been, at _full price_.--Mr. Beard received some private hints the
evening before the intended representation, though not till after the
bill was sent to the press, that an opposition was intended by some
particular persons; but flattered himself that the candour and justice
of the Public in general would distinguish in a case so particularly
circumstanced; and when he was called upon the stage, would have humbly
offered such reasons, as, had they been calmly and dispassionately
heard, might possibly have prevented the violence which ensued. In
this he was continually prevented by an incessant and clamourous
demand of a general and decisive _Yes_ or _No_.--As Manager only, and
Trustee for other Proprietors, he thought himself totally unimpowered
to resign up their rights by so sudden and concise a conveyance; and,
as the point in dispute was an essential matter of Property, conceived
their concurrence absolutely necessary to any determination on his
part, which, at this juncture, was impossible to be obtained.--In this
difficult situation, where acquiescence subjected him to a breach of
that trust which had been reposed in him, and refusal exposed him to
insult and displeasure, his submitting rather to the latter, than
be guilty of the former, it is hoped, will be deemed an offence not
altogether worthy so severe a resentment.

"However unfortunately he may have incurred the imputation of
insolence, obstinacy, or at least imprudence, in not immediately
submitting to the demands proposed; yet, when it is considered that
these demands were enforced by part of the audience only, and that he
had then great reason to believe such submission would be very far from
producing the salutary effect of theatrical tranquillity, he may not
perhaps be judged so blameable.

"Mr. Beard had at that time received several anonymous threatening
letters and notices concerning many other branches of what they call
_reformation_.--He was ordered by one to add a farce to _Love in a
Village_, or the house should be pulled about his ears.--By another,
he was commanded to put a stop to the farther representation of that
Opera, upon the penalty of enforcing his compliance by a riot the next
night of performance; and very lately received certain information of
meetings which have already been held, and an association forming, to
reduce the prices at the Theatre to what they were forty years since,
though it is notorious the expence of theatrical entertainments are
more than doubled. For these reasons, he looked upon the occasion
of the present disturbance only as a prelude to future violence; as
the first, not the last salutation of this extraordinary kind, to be
expected; and apprehended, that too easy an acquiescence might possibly
prove rather encouragement than prevention.

"Nevertheless, in gratitude for the many favours and indulgences
received from the Publick, and from an earnest desire to promote
that order and decorum so essential in all public assemblies, the
proprietors have now jointly authorized Mr. Beard to declare, that they
shall think themselves equally bound with the Managers of the other
Theatre, to an observance of those limitations which they have agreed
to.

"Mr. Beard, though sensible how unworthy an object his character is for
the attention of the Publick, yet hopes his zeal to have it appear in
a fair light will not be deemed impertinence, and therefore begs leave
to mention one occurrence that relates particularly to himself. It has
been industriously reported, that both before and after Mr. Garrick's
submission to the point in dispute, he himself had expressly promised
to give it up likewise, but has now insolently dared to resume a right,
which he had already disclaimed. How incapable Mr. Beard is of such a
conduct, he flatters himself those who know him will testify: to those
who do not, it may not be unnecessary solemnly to declare, that so
far from ever making such a promise, he constantly insisted, that it
neither was in his power or intention to comply with the demand.

JOHN BEARD."

This imprudent statement might have produced fatal consequences,
had the Police been as little attentive to the preservation of the
public peace as Mr. Beard: on the contrary, the Magistrates held
a meeting, and issued an intimation that every riotous proceeding
would be immediately checked, and the perpetrators prosecuted under
the Act which contains this clause: "That if any persons unlawfully,
riotously, and tumultuously assemble together, to the disturbance of
the public peace, shall unlawfully, and with force, demolish or pull
down, or begin to demolish or pull down, any dwelling-house, house,
barn, stable, or other out-house, they shall be adjudged felons; and on
conviction, shall suffer death, as in cases of felony, without benefit
of clergy."

The evening of March 3, proved the truth of my assertion, that Mr.
Beard had acted imprudently in publishing his address. Covent-garden
Theatre was crowded by gentlemen that seemed little affected by the
threats of the Police, who began the operations of the night by
calling for "Hearts of Oak," and "Britons, strike home;" and, when
the curtain rose, a tumult commenced, which soon drove the actors
from their presence; and the name of Beard echoed from every side
of the house. That gentleman appeared, and, alarmed at his previous
temerity, declared he had complied with their request in publick, and
came before them to confirm it. This declaration was in part approved;
but the audience required that all prosecutions against individuals,
by the Managers, originating in this dispute, should be immediately
discontinued. Mr. Beard assented as far as related to himself, and
retired. Exasperated by this evasion, another and more spirited effort
succeeded; and behold the Manager once more before his Judges, prepared
to promise any thing and every thing the audience demanded. Violent
applause followed, and the play was begun without interruption about
forty minutes after seven o'clock.

The Peace of 1763 was celebrated with uncommon splendour throughout
Europe, and particularly in St. James's Park, where a grand fire-work
was exhibited. Our amiable Queen, animated by the same impulse,
contrived an amusement for his Majesty on his birth-night equally
calculated to surprise and please. The Queen induced her royal consort
to pass several days previous to the 4th of June at St. James's; and in
that interval a great number of persons were employed in preparing a
superb temple and bridge, to be illuminated with upwards of 4000 lamps,
in the gardens of Buckingham-house. Such was the secrecy used, that the
King entertained not the least suspicion of the design in progress,
and was consequently astonished on returning to the above palace at
ten o'clock, when the window-shutters were suddenly thrown open, at
the brilliancy of the scene, which presented an orchestra containing
upwards of fifty performers led by Dr. Boyce, amongst whom were the
most eminent singers of the day, and the front of a temple ornamented
with emblematic paintings conveying the most grateful intimations.

The following article, extracted from the London Chronicle for August
1763, must produce a sensation of regret in the recollection of those
who were partial to the amusements of Ranelagh:

"The only defect in the elegance and beauty of the amphitheatre at
Ranelagh, is an improper and inconvenient orchestra, which, breaking
into the area of that superb room about twenty feet farther than it
ought to do, destroys the symmetry of the whole, and diffuses the
sound of the musick with such irregular rapidity, that the harmonious
articulations escape the nicest ear, when placed in the most commodious
attitude: it also hurts the eye upon your first entry.

"To remedy these defects, a plan has been drawn by Messrs. Wale and
Gwin, for adding a new orchestra, which, being furnished with a
well-proportioned curvature over it, will contract into narrower bounds
the modulations of the voice, and render every note more distinctly
audible. It will by its form operate upon the musical sounds in the
same manner as concave glasses affect the rays of light by collecting
them into a focus. The front of this orchestra being planned so as
to range parallel to the balustrade, the whole area also will be
disencumbered of every obstruction that might incommode the audience
in their circular walk. There is likewise provision made in this plan
for a stage capable of containing 30 or 40 performers, to officiate as
chorus-singers, or otherwise assist in giving an additional solemnity
on any extraordinary occasion."

This, or a similar plan, was afterwards adopted.

The irregularities mentioned in a preceding page as having occurred
at Vauxhall were noticed on the day appointed for licensing places of
amusement in 1763, when the proprietor pledged himself that the dark
walks should thenceforward be lighted, no bad women, known to be such,
admitted, and that a sufficient number of watchmen should be provided
to keep the peace.

The ridiculous custom of placing two centinels on the stage during
the performance of plays was not discontinued in the above year, as
a soldier employed for that purpose highly entertained an audience
in October by laughing at the character of Sir Andrew Ague-cheek in
Twelfth-night, till he actually fell convulsed upon the floor.

Violence and exertion are common occurrences at the doors of the
English Theatres every evening when pieces or performers of superior
attraction are to be seen; but it very rarely happens that those marks
of ill-breeding are practised at the entrances of the Opera-house.
When the Hereditary Prince of Brunswick went to the Opera in January
1764, the eagerness of a titled and fashionable _mob_ was such, that
the male part fought their way with drawn swords, the females fainted,
and lost shoes, caps, ruffles, &c. &c. quite as rapidly as those they
condescended to imitate at the other Theatres.

A letter signed "Theatricus," inserted in the London Chronicle, vol.
XV. contains a rapid but masterly sketch of the state of Theatrical
amusements between 1700 and 1763. Under this impression I shall
transfer it to this work:

"A DISSERTATION ON THE THEATRE.

"Since I was a boy, I have been an admirer of the Drama, and
have, for near sixty years past, observed the revolutions of
the stage (in England and Ireland) more than those of the
State.

"The first play I remember to have seen was _The Maid's
Tragedy_ in the year 1710; the famous Mr. Betterton acted
Melanthius; he died the week following, after having been
above fifty years the ornament of the stage. With great
satisfaction I recollect the memorable theatrical year 1712,
when _Cato_ was first acted: never were the expectations
of the Town more fully satisfied, nor more emulation shewn
by the performers. I was at that time in the first form at
Westminster-school; our master offered a premium of a gilt
Horace for the best Latin translation of _Cato's_ soliloquy
in the fifth act. I had sufficient vanity to be one of the
candidates; but, to my great mortification, was told, 'that
it was a good first attempt,' and saw the premium delivered
to my class-fellow, who, a few years ago, enjoyed one of the
best deaneries in the church.

"My uncle used frequently to take me of a Sunday evening
to Button's Coffee-house; it was there I first saw Addison
and Congreve; he was intimate with Sir Richard Steele, and
belonged to a club with the unfortunate Mr. Budgell.

"I remember the stage in its greatest glory, during the
management of Wilks, Booth, and Cibber; its decline under
the elegant but unfortunate Fleetwood; and its revival, with
uncommon lustre, under Garrick. I must do justice to this
last mentioned performer in saying, that it is to him alone
we owe the bringing of Tragedy nearer to Nature than in the
days of the Triumvirate. This one of them confessed to me not
a year before his death; for formerly a turgid vociferation,
or effeminate whine, were mistaken for the best display of
the heroic and tender passions; but these caricatures are
neglected for the real likenesses, which that great master of
his art, Garrick, has truly delineated. I have often wished
that the Stage could be brought under the regulations hinted
at by Mr. Addison; then it would be, to use his own words, 'a
source of the highest and most rational amusement.'

"I look upon the principal structures of the Drama, to be
_Tragedy_ and _Comedy_; the most interesting circumstances
of _Tragedy_ may be reduced to two different heads, _viz._
the elevated (such as Julius Cæsar, Coriolanus, &c.) and
the tender and affecting (as Romeo, and the Orphan); but
that tragedy must ever have the preference which unites the
pathetic with the sublime.

"_Tragedy_ should never go beyond the natural; that which is
great in it never goes farther than heroism; it is a living
picture, so that its beauty consists in its resemblance with
the truth.

"_Comedy_ is a feigned action, in which is represented the
ridiculous, in order to correct it; it rebukes with a smile,
and corrects with a facetious stroke: the matter of comedy is
civil life, of which it is an imitation: it ought to be every
where enlivened with all possible care, to have fine and easy
strokes of wit and satire, which present the ridiculous in
the most glaring point of view; it should be pure, easy, and
natural, have no borrowed passions or constrained actions;
morality and instruction ought to be infused into the several
parts, so that we might feel instruction, but not see it.

"Tragedy imitates the beautiful, and the great; Comedy
imitates the ridiculous: one elevates the soul, and forms the
heart; the other polishes the behaviour, and corrects the
manners. Tragedy humanizes us by compassion, and restrains
us by fear; Comedy makes us laugh, because the faults of the
little are trifling, we fear not their consequences.

"If examples have some force and life when trusted to paper,
how much greater must their vigour be, when they live in the
player, and are moved and speak in the most lofty sentiments,
and all the eloquence of action. The spectator imagines that
a series of ages having revolved back, and the distance of
places being contracted, he is suddenly conveyed into those
places and ages, in which the subject of the drama happened;
or else, that past times being renewed, the subject is again
acted in his presence. You do not on these occasions read
silently in your closet the illustrious acts of antient
heroes, who have immortalized themselves by the love they
displayed for their country, their parents, their children,
&c. These wonderful men are called from their tombs where
they have so long slumbered, appear again in the world, and
you behold their generous, their pious strife.

"In Athens the Stage was impowered by the Legislature to
instruct the ignorant vulgar, and, as a censor, to reform the
rude populace; it was its duty to make Tragedy a school of
wisdom, and Comedy of reproof. The poets rendered the Theatre
beneficial to the world, by appointing Tragedy to calm the
passions by terror and pity, and Comedy to reform the mind
by ridicule and censure. The duty of the Poet was, as Horace
expresses it--_aut prodesse aut delectare_.

"I am sorry to say that some of our comic writers have been
too fond of familiarizing their audiences to vice; and we
need make no doubt that the immorality of the stage has
contributed to the depravity of manners too visible amongst
all ranks of people, and fulfils what Juvenal says,

----_nullâ virtute redemptum
A vitiis_.----

"_Farce_ I consider as the gleanings of the Drama. I remember
when it was seldom used; those who have seen the Theatrical
Calendar for the years 1708 and 1709, will confirm what I
assert. Dogget, one of the first Comedians of his time, was
three years before he could obtain leave to have his farce
of _The Country Wake_ performed; and, when granted, it was
provided he acted the principal part (Hob). Farquhar, from
the success of his comedies, and interest with the Duke of
Ormond his patron, obtained leave for his farce of _The Stage
Coach_; and Cibber, with great difficulty, brought on his
_School Boy_; before these times the plays of Shakspeare,
Jonson, &c. did not need the aid of farce. It must be
allowed, that the farces by Garrick, and some by Foote, have
met with much success, and abound with the _utile dulci_;
but the generality of those now in possession of the Stage
are, as Dryden says, 'a compound of extravagances, fit only
to entertain such people as are judges of neither men nor
manners.' To confirm this great Poet's opinion, I appeal to
those who have seen a new farce last season at Crow-street
Theatre, devoid both of wit and satire, and composed of
vulgar phrases, beneath a Bartholomew-fair droll; however, I
applaud the author for not printing it; if he had, it must
certainly have suffered the fate it most justly deserved, to
be condemned by all its readers[252:A].

"_Pantomime_ first dawned, in the year 1702, at Drury-lane,
in an entertainment, called, _The Tavern Bilkers_; it died
the fifth night. It was invented by Weaver, a dancing-master
at Shrewsbury, who, from the encouragement of the Nobility,
invented a second, called _The Loves of Mars and Venus_,
performed at the same Theatre, in the year 1716, with vast
success; which occasioned Sir Richard Steele to write the
following lines on the back of one of the play-bills at
Button's Coffee-house.

"Weaver, corrupter of this present age,
"Who first taught silent sins upon the stage.

It was about this time that the taste of the Town became
vitiated: one remarkable instance I cannot forget. In January
1717 some dancers arrived from France, and with them one
Swartz, a German. This man brought over two dogs, whom
he had taught to dance the louvre and minuet; they were
immediately engaged by Rich, at ten pounds _per_ night,
and brought above twenty good houses, when the Othello of
Booth, the Wildair of Wilks, and the Foppington of Cibber,
were neglected, and did not bring charges. The town, who were
formerly unanimous in supporting the stage, now were formed
into different parties; some preferred sense to sound, others
were for the Opera and Pantomime, and the actors, as Colley
Cibber remarks, 'were very near being wholly laid aside,
or, at least, the use of their labour was to be swallowed
up, in the pretended merit of singing and dancing.' I must,
however, not forget to mention, that a few years ago, some
ladies of the first distinction, eminent for their just
taste, entered into a society, and distinguished by the name
of the Shakspeare Club, in order to support his plays on the
stage. Many verses were written on this occasion; one stanza
I remember:

"No more shall Merit's passion fail,
Since Beauty wit and knowledge prize,
Whose bright example shall prevail,
And make it fashion to be wise.

"I must do justice to the managers of the Dublin Theatres,
in commending their care and assiduity to please the Town;
and could wish, instead of importing from Sadler's-wells
wire-dancers, &c. they would revive some select plays of
Shakspeare and Jonson.

"I have at my leisure hours drawn up the following scale of
the merits of the performers on the Irish stage; I have no
connections with either Theatre or Managers, but am a lover
of Truth and the Drama. I am, &c.

THEATRICUS.

"_Dublin._

"A SCALE of the Merits of the Performers on the Irish Stage,
1763.

Men. |Trag.|Com.|| Women. |Trag.|Com.
----------+-----+----++-----------+-----+----
Barry | 20 | 10 ||Dancer | 14 | 16
Mossop | 15 | 6 ||Fitz-Henry | 14 | 6
Sheridan | 15 | 6 ||Abington | 0 | 18
Macklin | 8 | 15 ||Hamilton | 10 | 12
Sowdon | 13 | 12 ||Kennedy | 8 | 10
Dexter | 10 | 12 ||Kelf | 8 | 10
T. Barry | 10 | 8 ||Barry | 8 | 10
Ryder | 6 | 12 ||Jefferson | 6 | 8
Stamper | 0 | 12 ||Ambrose | 0 | 8
Sparks | 0 | 12 ||Mahon | 0 | 6
Jefferson | 8 | 10 ||Roach | 0 | 6
Heaphy | 6 | 8 ||Parsons | 0 | 6
Reddish | 6 | 8 || | |
Walker | 0 | 8 || | |
Glover | 4 | 8 || | |
Mahon | 4 | 6 || | |

The doors of the Theatres were opened _circa_ 1765 before five o'clock,
and the house thus filled gradually. The present method of opening
one hour before the commencement of the performance occasions great
confusion, and frequent injury to individuals.

Mrs. CORNELY

Died in the Fleet-prison at a very advanced age in 1797. She was born
in Germany, and, having talents for singing, performed publicly in her
native country and Italy. Mrs. Cornely arrived in England about 1756
or 7; and being a woman of much taste and address, and possessed of
many accomplishments, she soon received the patronage those advantages
excited. To continue the celebrity thus obtained, she explored the
regions of fancy, and exhausted every art, to contrive fascinating
amusements for the eager publick, who crowded to Carlisle-house,
Soho-square, as the very focus of pleasure and entertainment. While
this lady confined her exertions to mere frivolous and fashionable
enticements, she succeeded admirably; but, wishing to soar beyond her
sphere in endeavouring to establish a musical meeting, the Proprietors
of the Opera-house became alarmed, and applied to the Civil power
to suppress what they deemed an unwarrantable rivalship. This was
easily accomplished; and Mrs. Cornely had the mortification to find
herself considerably involved without a hope of remuneration; but
her concerts, balls, and masquerades were continued with advantage,
though her influence insensibly declined; and other attractions,
particularly the Pantheon, withdrawing many of her patrons, she was
at length compelled to relinquish her pretensions to public favour,
and fly from the menaces of her creditors, whose number and demands
were very considerable. It is said that she remained in concealment
for many years under the name of Smith; but, her active spirit being
still unsubdued, she ventured once more as a candidate for public
favour in the strange profession of a keeper of Asses at Knightsbridge,
where she fitted up a suite of rooms for the reception of visitors
to breakfast in public, and regale themselves with the milk of that
patient and enduring animal. The success of this enterprise may be
anticipated: a second flight from her creditors, and the catastrophe of
the Fleet-prison, closed the scene.

The above slight outline of the life of this singular female will
explain some subsequent parts of this Chapter. Mrs. Cornely is said
to have expended near 2000_l._ in 1765 in altering and embellishing
Carlisle-house.

In the year 1766 the Patentees and persons employed about Drury-lane
Theatre commenced a subscription, in order to establish a fund for
the support and relief of such performers and others belonging to the
Theatre as through age, infirmity, or accident, should be obliged to
retire from the stage. To this sum the Patentees gave benefit-plays,
and some benevolent persons not connected with the Theatre augmented
it by donations. In 1776, the amount of their principal was 3400_l._,
which the managers vested in the public funds, and a house in
Drury-lane that let for 50_l. per annum_; since which period it is
still farther increased.

Partnerships too frequently produce dissentions and a struggle for
individual power: the publick was called upon in 1768 to witness the
truth of this observation in a letter from T. Harris to G. Colman on
the affairs of Covent-garden Theatre, which, with the answer, follows:

"The schemes and arts (says Mr. Harris) that you have practised to
creep into an exclusive management, and in consequence of that into an
exclusive possession, were various, and incessant in their operations.
But, among them all, your favourite scheme to that end, was that of
being thought an able and successful manager; and to support that
character, it is incredible to those who know not your arts, what an
enormous burthen it hath been to the partnership: not less than thirty,
forty, fifty, and sixty pounds in orders, were generally sent into the
Theatre each night; and on one night in particular, in support of one
of your pieces, upwards of one hundred pounds. Thus, Sir, you supported
your fame, at the expence of our common property.

"The next day (June the 12th) by accident I and Mr. Rutherford
severally met Mr. Sarjant's son, one of our box-keepers, who informed
us, that Mr. Colman had taken away the keys of all the doors in the
Theatre, and that the doors were all barred and bolted, but that,
if we applied, we alone might be admitted through Mr. Powell's house
in the Piazza, in which there was a door which communicated with the
Theatre.

"Being well advised that we could not justify entering our own
premises through another man's house, and being well aware of your
---- disposition, we determined not to go into the Theatre through
the house of Mr. Powell, who was then at Bristol.--We therefore, on
Monday the 13th of June, sent a servant with a written order for
admittance: he was refused by Mr. Sarjant, who urged your express
order for that purpose. We then desired two gentlemen to accompany
us to the Theatre, and in their hearing demanded entrance of Mr.
Sarjant, who answered us, thrusting his head out of a barred window,
that Mr. Colman had got all the keys of the doors, and he could not
let us in. We immediately dispatched Mr. Sarjant junior, whom we met
under the Piazza, to you, Sir, with our compliments, desiring you
to send the keys of the Theatre, informing you, that we were then
waiting with two friends, and wished to take a walk in the Theatre.
He very soon returned with this answer (delivered in the hearing of
the above-mentioned two gentlemen): 'That you would not send the keys;
that you had ordered all ingress to the Theatre to be denied us, except
through Mr. Powell's house; and even that way, we, and we _only_,
must enter.' With this very extraordinary rebuff we returned to our
respective homes. The time between this event and Friday morning, we
passed in reflection upon your unaccountable treatment of us; and in
consulting and advising with several gentlemen of great eminence in all
departments of the law; who all concurred in assuring us that no damage
could arise to us from entering our own premises, and turning our own
servants out, who refused us admittance. Accordingly, on the 17th
June, after six o'clock, Mr. Harris, attended by two witnesses, again
demanded admittance for himself and Mr. Rutherford, at Mr. Sarjant's
door; he answered from within, in the hearing of the witnesses, that,
by Mr. Colman's order, they would not admit us. Harris then came to
the door in Hart-street, where Mr. Rutherford was waiting for him,
attended by some servants, and told him the result of his demand at
Mr. Sarjant's door; whereupon Harris and Rutherford ordered their
servants to open a window on the North side of the said door, where
they entered with their servants. One of your servants, who kept
possession of the Theatre for you, having struck one of ours, it was
with the greatest difficulty we could prevent ours from doing mischief
to their opponents; we were therefore obliged to turn them all out of
the Theatre. Being thus in possession, we began immediately to take
a survey of the place; and never were men so much astonished as we
were, to find ourselves in so complete a fortification. Emery, the
master-carpenter to the Theatre, coming at that instant, we ordered him
to be let in; and taking him about the Theatre with us, we observed
to him how _advantageously_ he and his men had been employed for the
last week or two in cutting our boards and timber to pieces in order
to bar and fortify every avenue and window in the house, even those
which were thirty or forty feet from the ground. The fellow, with a
good deal of awkward embarrassment, scratching his head, replied,
'Why, Gentlemen, I told Mr. Colman, all I could do would signify
nothing against a sledge-hammer. I thought,' says he, 'it was a strange
undertaking.' We then asked him, if he too was engaged by Mr. Colman;
he said he was. On our telling him it was unaccountable to us how
house-keeper, wardrobe-keeper, and carpenters, should think of entering
into articles; he confessed he never heard of any such thing before in
his life, but that Mr. Colman had taken him one day entirely unguarded,
and in a manner compelled him immediately to sign an article. The more
we examined the Theatre, the more we were astonished at your excessive
precaution to prevent our getting into it. On the same day we sent
you a letter from the Theatre, importing, 'That we did not mean to
retaliate your behaviour; on the contrary, we had given orders to our
servants, at all times to admit you and Mr. Powell.'

"Reflecting now very considerately on our situation, and on your past
conduct; 'That you had from the beginning laid a plan of driving us out
of the Theatre; that, in the execution of that plan, you had persevered
through the whole season, paying no more regard to us than if we were
entirely unconcerned in the property; that you had very essentially
hurt the whole property, and the profits of the past season in
particular; that, in fine, you had engaged to act under your direction
solely every person belonging to the Theatre, upon pain of large
penalties; and had at last absolutely forbid our entrance into our own
house:' For these reasons we determined to remove from the Theatre, to
one of our dwelling-houses, such part of the property as might the most
effectually prevent your proceedings, until a plan should be formed,
which would as effectually confirm to us those legal and equitable
rights in the Theatre, of which you had so unwarrantably divested us.

"With this view only, we sent down to my house in Surrey-street, so
much of the wardrobe as we imagined would make the remaining part
useless, together with the musick, prompt-books, &c. &c. belonging to
the Theatre; of all which we have an exact inventory, and they will be
immediately and safely returned to the Theatre, whenever a fair and
equitable plan for the future government of it shall be fixed upon. It
has been urged by some, that it would have been much better for us at
once to have applied to the Court of Chancery for redress, and that
there we must have found a certain relief, and reparation for all past
damages: this too, Sir, has been always your language--'If I injure
you, why don't you apply to the Court of Chancery for redress?'

"There is no doubt, Sir, the Court of Chancery would redress us. But
delays are dangerous. Of this the history of the acting Manager,
recorded by Cibber, is a _memento_. A long Chancery suit would be but a
very poor remedy for the injuries you are daily doing us.

"About a month since we were again amused by you with the hopes of a
fair reference.--By our respective counsel a meeting was appointed for
all parties in Westminster-hall. We there met, in order, if possible,
to fix on a mode of arbitrating all differences; both parties brought
preliminary articles to be agreed to, before the general concerns
should be referred. On our part were produced these two:

"1st. That the contracts which you might have made without
our knowledge and consent, for the ensuing season, should be
rescinded, unless agreed to by us.

"2d. That no servants who were employed in shutting us out of
our own house, should be employed in future.

"Surely these can never be deemed unreasonable by any person, when at
the same time he is assured that we never wish, nor ever did wish, to
engage any performer, servant, &c. &c. who should be objected to by Mr.
Colman and Mr. Powell.

"You, Sir, on your part, insisted on the following eight preliminaries.

"1st. Colman and Powell should not be obliged to sell.

"Meaning, we conceive, that if the referees should think it necessary
to oblige either of the parties to sell, it must be Harris and
Rutherford.

"2d. All contracts to be made by Mr. Colman to be confirmed.

"Can this be a reasonable preliminary, to be obliged to confirm all
contracts made by you, without having the least knowledge how many,
with whom, or upon what condition, they were entered into? For we
are at this time entire and absolute strangers to all your late
proceedings, except what we gather from uncertain report, and some few
of the parties who have engaged with you.

"3d. No legal proceedings to be stopped.

"The meaning of this preliminary we did not enter into, as no legal
proceedings were begun, nor had we any guess at your litigious
intention of making Garton put us in the Crown-office; or of your
inquisition, &c. &c.

"4th. Powell's article to be cancelled, and another made,
allowing him more explicitly the largest salary in the house.

"That you should think it proper to give Mr. Powell this _douceur_, we
were not at all surprised; but it did not occur to us why we should
give any farther indulgence to a man, who, after having attached
himself to you, had separated himself from you, disapproved of your
conduct, and then without the least reason implicitly and blindly
suffered himself to be duped by you again.

"5th. The books to be restored to Garton.

"The books were never intended to be kept from Mr. Garton, so as to
prevent his making up his accounts. We mean, whenever he is disposed to
take his discharge.

"6th. The wardrobe to be restored, and all damages to be made
good by Harris and Rutherford.

"To that we should have no objection, provided we are not obliged to
make good the damages Mr. Powell has done.

"7th. Colman still to be the _acting_ manager. If alteration
in the controuling power, it must be lodged in the other
three proprietors.

"Here the cloven foot indeed appears plainly: so the article must not
be meddled with, or it must be altered in your favour!

"8th. That all bills and all claims upon the Theatre should
be discharged.

"Whoever will attentively consider the above preliminaries must
observe, that there is not a single point on which an arbitration could
turn, which is not most artfully and subtilly provided for by Mr.
Colman; that is to say, on every point they must determine absolutely
for Mr. Colman, or otherwise some one of the preliminary articles will
prevent their considering it at all. And these, Mr. Colman, you called
fair, candid, and honest proposals, and have thrown the grossest abuse
on us for not consenting to what you call a fair reference.

"Mr. Harris and another gentleman calling in at the Theatre one
afternoon, found therein Mr. Powell and yourself, with each a candle in
your hands, lighting and shewing the Theatre to two of your counsel,
your attorney, and another gentleman. Mr. Harris was at a loss to
know whether they came as witnesses, or for what other purposes. The
servants of the Theatre, however, were ordered to shew you, and your
friends, all possible respect. Besides this fact, we defy you to prove
at any one time that either yourself or Mr. Powell, or any one that
came by your order, was refused entrance into the Theatre."

"_Mr. Colman's Retort._

"As to my management of the Theatre, whatever reflections T. Harris
may endeavour to throw on it, however he may prevaricate by talking
of the small profits that have resulted from it, the success of it is
incontestible; and the extraordinary receipts of the last season are
an irrefragable proof that Covent-garden Theatre has attracted the
particular notice and favour of the publick under my direction. If
the disbursements have been very large, great part of those sums must
be considered as the first expence of setting up in business, having
been employed in what may be called stock in trade, which is at this
instant of great intrinsic value, and will prevent future expence; and,
large as those disbursements have been, I was not the promoter of them,
except in the single instance of engaging Mr. and Mrs. Yates, more than
Mr. Harris; and that single instance was honoured with Mr. Rutherford's
approbation, till his colleague exerted his undue influence over him,
and taught him to object to it.

"Now I am on the article of expence, it may not be amiss to lay before
the publick a short anecdote. When Mr. Powell, at a meeting of all the
proprietors, proposed some additional illuminations, I objected to
them, at least for the present, saying that they would have a happier
effect at the commencement of a season. Mr. Harris said, the measure
being advisable, the sooner it was carried into execution the better.
Mr. Powell accordingly gave the necessary orders; but when the bills
came in, Mr. Harris and his colleague forbade the payment of the sum
charged for two lustres to their Majesties box, saying it was a measure
that had not been submitted to them.

"The pitiful charge concerning orders sent into the Theatre, as far
as it is imputed to me as an artifice to support my reputation, Mr.
Harris knows to be false. Mr. Rutherford and himself have told me more
than once, that I sent in fewer orders than any of the proprietors.
The little piece at which his malice points was, with all its faults,
extremely successful, and of great advantage to our Theatre last
season. The people sent to the house on one night in particular did not
go at my desire in support of my piece, but at the instance of all the
proprietors in support of the house, which was threatened to be pulled
down; and it was thought a very cheap expedient to sacrifice a hundred
pounds, to prevent a tumult which might perhaps have occasioned a loss
of one or two thousand. As to the piece, good or bad, being very well
acted, it brought great houses, and was received with much applause,
so that however Mr. Harris may prove the soundness of his taste and
judgment, he certainly does not manifest his gratitude by a public
disapprobation of it.

"I am now arrived at that period, where I should think any present
appeal to the publick, if any were necessary, ought to have begun; but
as T. Harris chose to go over the old ground again, I was obliged to
follow him, and to trace him through all his doublings of cunning and
sophistry. What follows is entirely new matter, which has arisen since
the tenth of February, the date of my last publication.

"The first new act of hostility on the side of the negative managers
was intended, like their late proceedings, as a negative general, being
calculated to deprive us of the very sinews of war. On the 14th of
February they sent, without our knowledge, the following letter to the
bankers where our money was deposited.

'To Messrs. FREAME, SMITH, and Co.

'GENTLEMEN,

'We desire you will not pay any money, or deliver any
property in your hands belonging to the proprietors of
Covent-garden Theatre to any person whatsoever, until farther
notice from us. And we desire you in like manner, to retain
any further sums of money belonging to the said proprietors
that may be sent to you. We are, &c.

T. HARRIS. J. RUTHERFORD.

_London, 14th Feb. 1768._'

"At the beginning of the season the bankers had received an order,
signed by all the proprietors, to pay all drafts of Mr. Garton,
our Treasurer. It is a question therefore whether any two of the
proprietors had a legal right to revoke the joint order of the
four, and to desire the bankers not to pay any money to any person
whatsoever. However that may prove, a step of such importance could not
have been too early communicated to Mr. Powell and me. It was a measure
that struck at the very being of our Theatre.

"A few days after the following letter was sent to the Treasurer:

'To Mr. JONATHAN GARTON.

'Sir, We desire you will, with all possible dispatch, send
to each performer, officer, and servant of Covent-garden
Theatre, whose articles expire this season, or who are not
under articles, a copy of the inclosed letter; and that you
will take down the names of those to whom such copy is sent,
and return us a list thereof signed by yourself.

'We also desire you will have your accounts ready for our
examination, and your balance for inspection, on Monday
morning next at eleven o'clock, as we shall then be at the
office for that purpose. We are, Sir, your most humble
servants,

T. HARRIS. J. RUTHERFORD.

_Thursday, Feb. 25, 1768._'

'_Letter inclosed._

'I am directed by Messrs. Harris and Rutherford, to give
you notice that "you cannot be considered as belonging to
Covent-garden Theatre, after the expiration of this season,"
unless the engagement you may enter into for the next be
confirmed in writing by one, or both of them.

Yours, &c.
J. GARTON.'

_Feb. 28, 1768._

"The determined resolution of Messrs. Rutherford and Harris to rescind
the article respecting the management, appears in the above notice,
wherein they assume, contrary to the letter, spirit, and common sense
of that article, the power of dismission, the dismission of almost
the whole Theatre, as well as the power of signing the articles of
agreement; to which also they have not any right. The ordering the
Treasurer to transcribe and circulate these notices was undoubtedly
intended as a new insult to me; and perhaps the Treasurer, who was now
growing obnoxious to them, because he would not further their attempts
to stop the business of the Theatre, was purposely distressed with this
order, that they might take offence at his denial to comply with it. I
had not the most distant intention of settling the future state of the
company without communicating the plan of it to them. This, whatever
they might have learned from their informers, my subsequent conduct
testified. I suffered, however, the poor young men to continue to
expose themselves. The notices were actually served on the persons they
required, and I passed over this new instance of their insolence and
irregularity with the most silent contempt.

"I do hereby aver to the _Publick_, for _to the Publick alone I now
address myself_, that whenever T. Harris and his colleague will prefer
a Bill in Chancery against us, respecting _our present Articles and
past Transactions_, neither I nor Mr. Powell will make any delay in
putting in a full and sufficient answer. And I now, in this public
manner, call upon them to file this long-threatened bill against us.
And I do hereby pledge my _honour_, not to T. Harris, but _to the
Publick_, that no means or endeavours of mine, or Mr. Powell, shall be
wanting to bring it to a short and speedy conclusion.

"It now only remains to assure that Publick, whose protection we have
already so often experienced, that we are determined to open the
Playhouse at the usual time; and then to submit it to their tribunal,
whether they will suffer the insolence and tyranny of T. Harris to
interrupt their amusements, as well as to oppress us and the rest of
their servants in Covent-garden Theatre."

The invitation to try the merits of the dispute between Messrs. Colman,
Harris, &c. offered at the close of the paper published by the former,
was accepted; and a decision took place in the Court of Chancery July
1770, when it was decreed that Mr. Colman should continue the acting
manager, subject to the advice of the three other managers.

One of the most splendid Masquerades which has taken place in England
was that given by the King of Denmark at the Opera-house, in 1768.
3000 persons, or nearly that number, were present, and received an
entertainment consisting of every delicacy in the utmost profusion.

I have just ceased to applaud the old custom of opening the doors of
the Theatre _before five o'clock_; and have at this moment to notice
the strange caprice of the publick, in requiring the managers _to open
at five_. This alteration occurred in October 1768.

The stupid and barbarous diversion of Throwing at Cocks, practised by
the vulgar on Shrove Tuesday, was very properly prevented by the Police
in February 1769.

The reader cannot form a better idea of the amusements prepared for the
publick by Mrs. Cornely than from the following account, published a
few days after the Masquerade occurred February 1770.

"Monday night the principal Nobility and Gentry of this kingdom, to
the number of near eight hundred, were present at the masked ball
at Mrs. Cornely's in Soho-square, given by the gentlemen of the
Tuesday Night's Club, held at the Star and Garter Tavern in Pall-mall.
Soho-square and the adjacent streets were lined with thousands of
people, whose curiosity led them to get a sight of the persons going to
the Masquerade; nor was any coach or chair suffered to pass unreviewed,
the windows being obliged to be let down, and lights held up to display
the figures to more advantage. At nine o'clock the doors of the house
were opened, and from that time for about three or four hours the
company continued to pour into the assembly. At twelve the lower
rooms were opened: in these were prepared the side-boards, containing
sweetmeats and a cold collation, in which elegance was more conspicuous
than profusion. The feast of the night was calculated rather to gratify
the eye than the stomach, and seemed to testify the conductor's sense
of its being prepared almost on the eve of Ash Wednesday. The richness
and brilliancy of the dresses were almost beyond imagination; nor did
any assembly ever exhibit a collection of more elegant and beautiful
female figures. Among them were Lady Waldegrave, Lady Pembroke, the
Dutchess of Hamilton, Mrs. Crewe, Mrs. Hodges, Lady Almeria Carpenter,
&c. Some of the most remarkable figures were,

"A Highlander (Mr. R. Conway.)

"A double Man, half Miller, half Chimney Sweeper (Sir R. Phillips.)

"A political Bedlamite, run mad for Wilkes and Liberty, and No. 45.

"A figure of Adam in flesh-coloured silk, with an apron of fig-leaves.

"A Druid (Sir W. W. Wynne.)

"A figure of Somebody.

"Ditto of Nobody.

"A running-footman, very richly dressed, with a cap set with diamonds,
and the words 'Tuesday Night's Club' in the front (the Earl of
Carlisle.)

"His Royal Highness the Duke of Gloucester in the old English habit,
with a star on the cloak.

"Midas (Mr. James the Painter.)

"Miss Monckton, daughter to Lord Gallway, appeared in the character of
an Indian Sultana, in a robe of cloth of gold, and a rich veil. The
seams of her habit were embroidered with precious stones, and she had a
magnificent cluster of diamonds on her head; the jewels she wore were
valued at 30,000_l._ The Duke of Devonshire was very fine, but in no
particular character. Captain Nugent of the Guards, in the character of
Mungo, greatly diverted the company.

"The Countess Dowager of Waldegrave wore a dress richly trimmed with
beads and pearls, in the character of Jane Shore. Her Grace of Ancaster
claimed the attention of all the company in the dress of Mandane.
The Countess of Pomfret, in the character of a Greek Sultana, and
the two Miss Fredericks, who accompanied her as Greek Slaves, made a
complete groupe. The Dutchess of Bolton, in the character of Diana, was
captivating. Lord Edg--b, in the character of an Old Woman, was full as
lovely as his lady, in that of a Nun.

"Lady Stanhope, as Melpomene, was a striking fine figure. Lady Augusta
Stuart, as a Vestal, and Lady Caroline, as a Fille de Patmos, shewed
that true elegance may be expressed without gold and diamonds. The
Chimney Sweeper, Quack Doctor, and a Friar, acquitted themselves with
much entertainment to the company.

"About two o'clock the company began to depart, in effecting which
there was great difficulty.

"We hear that two Great Personages were complimented with two tickets
for Monday night's masquerade, which they very politely returned.

"Most of the carriages that came to the masquerade were chalked by the
populace with 'Wilkes and Liberty.'"

It will no doubt be remembered by many, that a very good representation
of an eruption of Mount Ætna, on a large scale, with Cyclops at work
in the centre of the mountain, was exhibited a few years since in
the garden at Ranelagh. That it may not be supposed that this scene
was a new thought, I shall describe the entertainment of an evening
at Mary-le-bon gardens when they were in full reputation. The usual
concerts and songs were performed; but Signior Torré had been employed
to prepare a representation of Mount Ætna as an addition to the common
fire-works, consisting of vertical wheels, suns, stars, globes, &c. in
honour of the King's birth-day, June 4, 1772, who was, with the Queen,
represented in transparencies surrounded by stars. When the fire-works
were concluded, a curtain which covered the base of the mountain rose,
and discovered Vulcan leading the Cyclops to work at their forge; the
fire blazed, and Venus entered with Cupid at her side, who begged them
to make for her son those arrows which are said to be the causes of
love in the human breast: they assented, and the mountain immediately
appeared in eruption with lava rushing down the precipices.

A few trees stand as mementoes of Mary-le-bon gardens near the North
end of Harley-street.

January 27, 1772, was rendered remarkable in the annals of Amusement
by the opening of the Pantheon in Oxford-street, which had been
erected at a vast expence from the designs of Wyatt, the celebrated
architect. Near two thousand persons of the highest rank and fashion
assembled on this occasion to admire the splendid structure, which
contained fourteen rooms, exclusive of the rotunda: the latter had
double colonnades or recesses for the reception of company, ornamented
with the reliefs peculiar to the Grecian style of building; and the
dome contained others equally rich. In order to support the propriety
of the name given to this superb place of fashionable resort, the
architect introduced niches round the base of the dome with statues of
the Heathen Deities; and to _complete_ the circle, added _Britannia
and their present Majesties_. Such were the ideas of classic taste
exhibited by the proprietors; the Gods worshiped in the _real
Pantheon_, were compelled to witness a modern Pantheon _dedicated to
pleasures_ and amusements of which even Jupiter himself was ignorant
when in the Court of Olympus.

One of the first steps of the conductors was an order to exclude all
loose women: an order which deserves honourable mention, but one
impossible to be executed. The Masquerades given at the Pantheon would
have been thin of company indeed, had not improper persons formed part
of the silly groupe. The nature of those masked entertainments is so
confined, that when one is seen or described, novelty is at an end.
I shall therefore pass them over, and merely mention, that part of
the commemoration of Handel, noticed at large in the first volume of
"Londinium Redivivum," was celebrated at the Pantheon; after which
caprice or some other cause converted it into an Opera-house, and very
soon after an _accidental fire_ consumed it. The Pantheon has been
rebuilt, but on a miserable plan indeed compared with the original:
it now serves for Masquerades at different periods; and Garnerin and
Lunardi have exhibited their balloons there.

It is by no means creditable to the memory of Mr. Garrick, that
he acted the Beggar's Opera for two seasons in opposition to the
entreaties of Sir John Fielding and his brethren the Magistrates, and
after they had informed him that the representation invariably produced
fresh victims to offended Justice. The latter season alluded to, 1773,
produced a long and serious contention between persons who never
before saw or had received the least injury from each other, through
the turbulent and daring effrontery of the late veteran Macklin. This
actor, offended at the conduct of a player named Reddish, and that of
Sparks, the son of another, presumed to make the publick parties in the
affair, by thus addressing the audience at Covent-garden Theatre on the
night of October 30.

"Ladies and Gentlemen--My appearing before you in my own character,
instead of that which I am this night appointed to perform, is an
unexpected measure; but in my distressed condition, from my feelings as
a man and an actor, and _in order to produce decency_ in this Theatre
to-night, and from my duty to the publick, I humbly hope it will be
found to be a necessary one. I am sensible, that, by a certain set of
people, this address to you will be deemed a very saucy step; and that
their wishes and endeavours will be, that it may be attended with a
very serious and fatal animadversion; but I hope and trust, that it
will excite a very different effect in the minds of the candid and the
just, when they shall have heard my motive for this proceeding; which,
with your indulgence and protection, I will humbly lay before you."

This period was the touch-stone of opinion; the majority of the
audience requested Macklin to proceed: one person exclaimed "No," but
was silenced. The actor proceeded:

"Through the course of my theatrical life, I have constantly thought
it the duty of an actor, and his best policy, to regulate his conduct
in such a manner as to merit the credit and esteem of those who know
him; so as to be able by moral justness to defy, and to be proof
against all insinuations, aspersions, or open attacks upon his private
character. This has been my constant doctrine; this my constant policy;
and as a proof of my practice being conformable to these principles, I
here appeal, not to hearsay, credulity, or party, but to all who know
me: and I call upon every individual of the publick in this great
metropolis to produce, if they can, a single instance to the contrary."

A person observed at this instant, "That is a bold challenge, Mr.
Macklin;" to which he replied, "Sir, I will abide by it; and I repeat
it; I say a _single instance_."

"From the first of my appearing upon the Stage, I have met with the
indulgence, protection, and encouragement of a benevolent publick,
until I attempted to act the part of Macbeth last Saturday: in that
attempt I have not the least reason to complain of that awful and
impartial tribunal, which, from my observation, and the experience of
the oldest actors I have known, never yet condemned piece or actor that
had merit: but the usage I have met with from news-writers is without
example in the history of the Stage. I have here in my hand folios of
paragraphs, epigrams, intelligences, and what are called criticisms,
upon _me_: some even before I appeared in the character; such as do no
great honour to the press, or to the genius, candour, or erudition, of
the gentlemen who produced them. I will not give a name or a quality to
these productions; the present publick and posterity, should they meet
with them, will do it for me."

A voice from the gallery demanded an explanation, why he felt indignant
at what had passed on the Saturday alluded to. Macklin affected to
be at a loss what the gentleman meant: an altercation then ensued
between Mr. Sparks, the person who spoke, and another, which ended _in
a challenge_ to walk out, or to take the unknown's address. Quiet again
took place.

"These criticks or partisans, not satisfied with their newspaper
attacks upon my powers as a man and an actor, assembled in the gallery
last Saturday night; and in two or three parties dispersed about the
gallery, did by groans, laughs, hissing, and loud invectives, attack
me in a violent manner. These parties were headed by two gentlemen,
whom for the sake of truth and justice, with your permission, I will
name.--The one was Mr. Reddish, a player belonging to Drury-lane
Theatre; the other, one Mr. Sparks, a son of the late Luke Sparks,
of worthy memory, an actor belonging to Covent-garden Theatre. This
charge, I own, is a heavy one against Mr. Reddish in particular; as he
is himself an actor: it is likewise heavy on Mr. Sparks, who intends
to be one. Mr. Garrick, in his own defence, I am told, enquired
into this matter in a formal manner behind the scenes; and upon the
evidence produced by Mr. Reddish and Mr. Sparks, I am informed that
Mr. Garrick did acquit Mr. Reddish of the charge; but I here pledge
myself to give a positive proof of the fact of Mr. Reddish's hissing,
which shall be supported by all the circumstances of probability and
truth. I am afraid I have taken up too much of your time; yet, with
your permission, I have a few words more to offer on this disagreeable
subject.

"_The condition of an actor_ on the first night of his performing such
a character as Macbeth is the most alarming, to a mind anxious to
gain the public favour, _of any condition that the pursuit of fame or
fortune can cast man into_. A dull plodding actor, whose utmost merit
is mediocrity, is in no danger; he plods on from the indulgence of
the publick, and their habit of seeing him, in safety; he never is in
danger of offending by starts of genius, or by the unruly fire that the
_fury of his spirits_ enkindles. Mediocrity is his merit; mediocrity
is all that is expected from him; mediocrity is his protection. But
the actor that can be impassioned in the extreme, and is _inflamed_
by Shakspeare's genius, will, on his first appearance in Macbeth,
be _carried out of the reach of sober judgment_, and of wary, nice
discretion; those passions and that _flame_ will _run away with
him_, will make him _almost breathless_, _crack_ or hoarsen in his
voice, arrest his memory, _confine his sight_, his action, gait, and
deportment; and all that candour and the nicest judgment can expect
from him is, that he shewed he understood his character, that he gave
noble marks of genius and judgment, and that, when he had played the
part half a dozen times, he would then charm and convince his audience
of his powers, and of his having a competent capacity for it.

"But let this man be but checked by a single hiss, all his fire will
instantly cool; his spirits abate their motions; grief and despair will
seize him, and at once he becomes the pining broken-hearted slave of
the tyrant that ruined a wretch that was labouring to please him, who
did not dare to resent the cruelty, nor to assist himself. A soldier
in the very front of war, at the teeth of his enemy, _and at the mouth
of a cannon_, is not in so wretched, _nor in so fatal_, so hopeless
a state. The noble ardour of the soldier gives him hope, alacrity,
effort, double, treble vigour and courage; the very danger adds to
both, and to such a degree, as to make him lose even the idea of
danger; _and sure death, even death, in that state is preferable_ to an
actor, who by his post is _obliged to endure the hiss of a Reddish, or
a Sparks_; or a critic who hisses him for daring to act a part of Mr.
Garrick's, and who would _damn him_ to want and _infamy_, to shew he is
an admirer of Mr. Garrick."

Mr. Macklin then went on beseeching the audience to believe that the
agitation he felt on Saturday evening prevented him from exerting his
faculties; that he was then under the same terrors; and concluded by
begging them to try his merits by uninterrupted attention for a few
nights, and then applaud or reject him.

Messrs. Reddish and Sparks, though they knew Macklin had gained public
approbation by his strange address, did not hesitate severally to make
oath that Mr. Reddish never hissed the complainant; and that, when
Sparks once did, Reddish warmly insisted that he should forbear. In
addition to these assertions, Sparks published a letter, containing
a positive denial of his being present at the second performance of
Macbeth on the Saturday mentioned.

The reader to whom this scene is now first known cannot but perceive
Macklin's aim in all his proceedings; and, if he entertains the same
ideas of justice with myself, he will be pleased to find those aims
completely disappointed. Whatever impropriety of conduct Reddish and
Sparks might have been guilty of, Macklin had no right to disturb the
public peace by making many hundreds of inconsiderate people judges of
his or their private jealousies.

On Saturday evening the 6th of November Macklin _acted_ the second part
of his appeal to the audience, and affected to be literally overcome by
the awful situation his opponents and himself stood in before Heaven
and the frequenters of theatrical amusements. He called for a glass
of water to prevent him from fainting; and the compassionate audience
ordered him a chair, on which they desired he might sit and read his
proofs in opposition to the oaths of Reddish and Sparks. When he
finished the play proceeded.

Transactions of this nature never fail to produce parties, which
arrange themselves on either side of the question, as caprice, or
justice, actuates the individuals who compose them. A trial of strength
on this _most important_ subject took place at Covent-garden Theatre
on Thursday evening November 18, when a considerable number of persons
raised a violent uproar, for the express purpose of preventing the
commencement of the play in which Macklin was announced to perform.
After some time had elapsed, the offender appeared, but to no purpose,
as neither himself, his accusers, or approvers, could distinguish a
word uttered by either; but the narrators of the disgusting occurrence
say, that Macklin retired and threw off his dress for the character
of Shylock, and re-appeared; that Mr. Bensley was commissioned by
the Managers to pronounce--nobody would hear what--and retired; that
Macklin dressed again, and again entered, but the noise, in which
"_Off_" predominated, encreased with tenfold violence, and he was
even commanded to go on his knees. This he positively refused, and
made his "_exit in a rage_." Mr. Woodward succeeded Mr. Bensley as a
pacificator with equal success. The Managers at length, foreseeing
perhaps fatal consequences, sent Mr. Owenson upon the Stage, who held
a large board before him on which they had written with chalk, "At the
command of the publick, Mr. Macklin is discharged." This concession
procured loud applause from the opposers of the actor; but his friends
in the gallery, doubly exasperated, demanded "Shylock, Macklin, and
Love a-la-mode," instead of "She Stoops to Conquer," which was begun
by the Manager's direction. The confusion soon became general, and
many persons left the Theatre. Mr. Fisher, one of the proprietors,
entered, and attempted to speak; but Colman, and Colman alone, would
satisfy the audience. That gentleman was at length induced to make (as
he observed) _his first appearance_, attended by Colonel Lechmere; a
general plaudit succeeded; and when silence could be obtained he said
that, from the hour he had undertaken the management of the Theatre,
his first wish had ever been to know the pleasure of the publick, that
he might instantly comply with it; and, as a proof of the truth of his
assertion, he referred the audience to the _legible card_ which had
just been offered to their perusal. Mr. Colman farther observed, that
the Managers really had no other play in readiness besides "She Stoops
to Conquer;" and recommended those who were displeased with it to
receive their money and retire. A new trial of skill commenced between
the contents and non-contents; the musick played, and the first scene
of the above play was completed; but the second produced such brutal
rage in the gallery, that it became unsafe to remain on the stage, and
the curtain was finally dropped. The audience immediately retired, and
received their entrance-money as they went; but the Managers are said
to have lost near 90_l._ by certain despicable wretches who clambered
from the Pit into the Boxes, and thus obtained Box prices instead of
Pit.

That this most unpleasant affair terminated without bloodshed or
bruises, or broken limbs, must excite both astonishment and pleasure;
and I think it must be allowed equally astonishing, that Mr. Macklin
ever dared again to face an audience.

It is singular that Macklin was under the necessity of publishing the
ensuing extract of a letter, directed to Dr. Kenrick, _to clear himself
of a charge of hissing_ a new play on the 26th of November.

"SIR,

"So far from injuring you in the point you complain of, I
solemnly declare that I sincerely wished you success in
your 'Duellist,' as I do every person who undertakes the
arduous and perilous task of writing for the Stage. And I
further assure you, that I was not near the Theatre on the
night that your Comedy was acted. Nay, that, to the best
of my recollection, I never spoke to a person, directly or
indirectly, who was going, or who told me he intended to go,
to 'The Duellist;' and that I was employed about business
of the utmost consequence to myself the whole day on which
your Comedy was acted; particularly from five that evening
till after all the Theatres were shut for that night. And
as to my friends, Sir, _the world_ must know that I cannot
answer whether any of them were at the 'Duellist' or not,
since I was not there myself; nor ought I to be responsible
for their conduct there. But, Sir, in justice to those whom
I esteem my friends, and for your farther satisfaction, I do
assure you that I have not heard of one friend of mine that
was at your Comedy. My testimony, perhaps, in this cause may
be deemed in your opinion weak and partial, as it tends to
exonerate myself and my friends. In answer to that argument,
Sir, it is the best that it is in my power to give from the
nature of the case. In your request of a re-hearing, and in
the consequence should you be re-heard, I sincerely wish you
success. I am, &c.

CHARLES MACKLIN."

Dr. Kenrick was supported by a strong party, which declared that his
play had been unjustly condemned; and that gentleman thought proper to
intimate, through the public papers, to Mr. Colman, that 'The Duellist'
would be called for on the evening when a Mr. Brown was announced to
appear for the first time in the character of Othello; thus clearing
himself from the presumed imputation of wishing to injure a new
performer. This hint did not, however, produce the play; and Kenrick
and his friends were under the necessity of having recourse to other
measures; which were, distributing printed papers to the publick,
and showering cards down upon the Pit from the Gallery: the latter
contained these words, "No Play till an assurance of The Duellist being
given out for Monday." Whether the riot of the preceding week had
satiated the multitude, or whatever else might be the cause, the affair
ended merely in violent hissing and clapping, and Brown had a candid
hearing.

The reader will, without doubt, be satisfied with the preceding
descriptions of theatrical commotions; and under that conviction I
shall omit all that have subsequently occurred, at the same time
assuring him that so many would not have been mentioned, had I not
thought it necessary to illustrate all the operations of the community.

Dr. Kenrick opened a course of Lectures in the Theatre for Burlettas at
Mary-le-bon gardens in the following July, which he termed "a School
of Shakspeare;" where he recited different parts of the works of our
inimitable Dramatist, and particularly that of Sir John Falstaff, with
much success, to crowded audiences.

The newspapers of that month vented severe complaints against the
Proprietors of the gardens alluded to for having demanded 5_s._
entrance money to a _Fête Champêtre_, which consisted of nothing more
than a few tawdry festoons and extra lamps; indeed, they appear to have
been suggested by the conduct of the spectators, who demolished most of
the brittle wares of the scene, and injured the stage. A second attempt
produced this description: "The orchestra, boxes, theatre, and every
part of the gardens were beautifully illuminated at a vast expence
with lamps of various colours, disposed with great taste and elegance.
The grass-plat before Mr. Torre's building was surrounded with two
semicircular rows of trees and hedges prettily contrived, divided,
and forming two walks; and between every tree hung a double row of
lamps bending downwards; between every break orange and lemon-trees
were placed, and the whole was hung with festoons of flowers and other
pastoral emblems. On this place the rural entertainment was held,
consisting of singing and dancing; several airs were well sung by Mr.
Thompson, Mr. Bannister, Miss Wewitzer, and the rest of the performers.
On the left hand of this rural scene was a stile, and a walk which led
to a Temple sacred to Hymen, which was transparent, and had a pretty
effect when viewed at a distance. The gardens were not clear of company
at six o'clock next morning."

Encouraged by their success, the Proprietors entered still farther into
the spirit of hilarity, and prepared an entertainment thus described
in a newspaper a few days after it had taken place:

"On Tuesday evening (July 23, 1776) Mary-le-bon gardens exhibited a
scene equally novel and agreeable; namely, a representation of the
Boulevards of Paris. The boxes fronting the ball-room, which were
converted into shops, had a very pleasing effect, and were occupied
by persons with the following supposititious names, legible by means
of transparent paintings.--Crotchet, a music-shop; a gingerbread
shop (no name over it), the owner in a large bag-wig and deep
ruffles _à-la-mode de Paris_: Medley (from Darley's), a print-shop;
New-fangle, a milliner; a hardware shop and lottery-office in one
(the price of tickets 11_l._ 14_s._); _La Blonde_, a milliner; Pine,
a fruiterer; Trinket, a toy-shop; Fillagree, ditto; Mr. Gimcrack,
the shop unoccupied, and nothing in it but two paper kites; _Tête_,
a hair-dresser. The shopkeepers seemed rather dull and awkward at
their business, till the humour of the company had raised their
spirits by purchasing; and then, in proportion to their trade, their
diligence advanced. Madam Pine, Messrs. Trinket, and _le Marchand de
la gingerbread_, ran away with the custom from all their competitors.
Mr. _Tête_ indeed would have had a good share of trade, but that the
ladies were previously provided with every article he had to sell, and
superior of the kind; for if his head-dresses were as big as a peck,
many of theirs could not be crammed into a bushel.

"The ball-room was illuminated in an elegant manner with coloured
lamps; and at one end of it women attended, selling orgeat, lemonade,
and other cooling liquors. This was intended as a representation of the
English Coffee-house at Paris.

"There was a great variety of different amusements; and amongst the
rest a booth representing that of Signior Nicola at Paris, in which
eight men, at the command of the supposed Signior, who was behind the
scenes, exhibited a dance called the Egyptian Pyramids, standing on the
backs, arms, and shoulders of each other, to an astonishing height. The
number of the persons present is thought to be about 600."

We will now bid adieu to Mary-le-bon gardens.

Very considerable alterations were made in Drury-lane Theatre previous
to the opening for the season of 1775. The frequenters of it before
the above period describe the interior as very little superior to an
old barn; but the raising of the ceiling twelve feet, the removal of
the side-boxes, and substituting others supported by slight pillars,
the opening of new passages to the boxes and to the Theatre from
Bridges-street, seem to have entitled it to that approbation which
it received till the re-building in 1794 of the spacious edifice
demolished by fire February 24, 1809.

The fashionable world had often read and heard of the Venetian
_Regattera_, or race of Oarsmen, and were inclined to attempt a grand
effort of imitation on the Thames; for which purpose many preparations
were made, and the following plan was submitted to the publick in May
1775.

"Ladies and gentlemen to arrange their own parties, and to provide
their own barges or boats; excepting those persons who shall apply
to the managers of the _Regatta_ for a seat in the public barges,
which the several City companies have been so kind to lend on this
occasion.--It is recommended that the rowers of the private barges be
uniformly dressed, and in such a manner as may accord with some one
of the three marine colours, chosen by the Marshals of the _Regatta_,
_viz._ the White, the Blue, or the Red: the blue division to take the
four Western arches of Westminster-bridge; the red division to take
the four arches next the Surrey shore; and St. George's division the
two arches on each side the centre. The whole procession to move up
the river from Westminster-bridge at seven o'clock in the evening,
the Marshal's division rowing a-head about three minutes before the
second division, and the same interval of time between the second
and third divisions. The company to begin to embark at the several
stairs adjacent to Westminster-bridge, as well on the Lambeth as the
Westminster side, between five and six o'clock. The Marshal's barge
of twelve oars, carrying St. George's ensign (white field, with a
red cross), will be to the Westward of the centre arch; the rest of
the barges and boats to spread at such distances on the rendezvous,
as to fill all the arches of Westminster-bridge at one time; but it
is to be understood, that none of the pleasure-boats, nor others,
do, upon any account, go into the centre arch, which must be left
free for the race-boats; twelve of which, with each two rowers, will
start from Westminster-bridge at six o'clock, and row against tide to
London-bridge; from whence they will return back to Westminster-bridge:
the three boats that first clear the centre arch of Westminster-bridge,
to the Westward, win the prizes.--First men, ten guineas each, with
coats and badges.--Second men, seven guineas each, with coats and
badges of an inferior value.--Third men, five guineas each, with
coats and badges.--Besides which, every successful waterman will have
an ensign given him to wear one year on the Thames, with the word
_Regatta_, in gold characters, thereon inscribed, and the figures 1, 2,
or 3, according to the order in which he may arrive at the close of the
race. The twelve boats, when the race shall be over, are to wait on the
Marshal's barge, and to obey whatever orders may be given from thence,
both going up the river, and returning home, when the entertainment
is ended.--Circular ranges of tables, with proper intervals, will be
placed round the Rotunda of Ranelagh, on which supper will be prepared
in the afternoon, and the doors thrown open at eleven o'clock: the
several recesses on the ground-floor to serve as side-boards for the
waiters, and for a variety of refreshments, &c. &c.--A band of musick,
consisting of one hundred and twenty vocal and instrumental performers,
will play in the centre of the Rotunda during supper-time: other music
to be disposed of in the garden, as the Committee shall direct.--Three
military bands, composed of fifes, drums, cymbals, &c. will be habited
in a manner consonant with the naval flags of Great Britain, and be
properly stationed, as will likewise three other select bands of the
most eminent masters on wind instruments:--all under such directions
as may best entertain the company while on the water, and at the time
of disembarking.--The garden of Ranelagh will be lighted up, and a
temporary bower erected and decorated round the canal for dancing.--The
platform of Chelsea-hospital to be open, for the greater conveniency of
disembarking.

"If the 20th of June be the day approved of by the Committee, a red
flag will be displayed at ten in the morning over the centre arch of
Westminster-bridge, continue flying all day, and the bells of St.
Margaret's church will ring from ten o'clock till one: without such
notification, be it understood, that the _Regatta_ is, on account of
unfavourable weather, postponed till Wednesday the 21st of June, when
the like signal will be repeated:--if the weather still continue bad,
the _Regatta_ to be put off till Thursday the 22d of June, when it will
be given at all events."

An account of this amusement was inserted in the newspapers, from one
of which I beg leave to repeat it.

"Yesterday before noon several of the companies and great numbers of
pleasure barges were moored in the river, with flags, &c. Half a guinea
was asked for a seat in a common barge, to see the _Regatta_.

"Early in the afternoon, the whole river, from London-bridge to the
Ship-tavern, Milbank, was covered with vessels of pleasure, and there
seemed to be a general combination to make a gay evening. Above
1200 flags were flying before four-o'clock; and such was the public
impatience, that scores of barges were filled at that time.--Scaffolds
were erected on the banks and in vessels, and even on the top of
Westminster-hall was an erection of that kind.--Vessels were moored in
the river, for the sale of liquors and other refreshments.

"The Thames, by six o'clock, was overspread with vessels and boats
ornamented with divers colours; much about which time they began
to form themselves into divisions. The Director's barge, which was
uncommonly superb, and on the stern of which was displayed a blue
ensign, with the word _Regatta_ in large gold characters, was rowed in
great state to its station, a little before seven, on the West point
of the centre arch. The boats and vessels of the red flag immediately
brought up in the line of the four arches, on the Lambeth-side; the
blue division in the direction of the four nearest Westminster; and the
white, of the two arches on each side the centre: the grand centre arch
being solely appropriated to the race-boats.

"The whole river formed a splendid scene, which was proportionably
more so nearer to Westminster-bridge. A City barge, used to take in
ballast, was, on this occasion, filled with the finest ballast in the
world--above 100 elegant ladies. At half past seven the Lord Mayor's
barge moved, and falling down the stream, made a circle towards the
bridge, on which twenty-one cannon were fired as a salute.

"At half past seven the several candidates for the Regatta honours
started at Westminster-bridge; twelve boats, two men in each, in
three divisions, habited in white, red, and blue, rowed down to
Watermen's-hall, and went round a vessel placed there for the purpose,
and then made up again for the goal, which was gained by one of the red
squadron, who had for their reward each a new boat, with furniture
complete, coats and badges, and an ensign with the word _Regatta_ in
gold letters inscribed thereon; the second boat eight guineas each, and
the third five guineas each; and to every other candidate who rowed the
full distance, half a guinea, with permission to be in Ranelagh-gardens
(in their uniforms) during the entertainment.

"As soon as the winners were declared, and their prizes awarded, the
whole procession began to move from Westminster-bridge for Ranelagh;
the Director's barge at the head of the whole squadron, with grand
bands of musick playing in each.

"The ladies in general were dressed in white, and the gentlemen in
undress frocks of all colours; and it is thought the procession was
seen by at least 200,000 people.

"The company landed at the stairs about nine, when they joined the
assembly which came by land in the _Temple of Neptune_, a temporary
octagon kind of building erected about twenty yards below the Rotunda,
lined with striped linen of the different-coloured flags of the Navy,
with light pillars near the centre, ornamented with streamers of
the same kind loosely flowing, and lustres hanging between each. It
happened however that this building was not quite finished when the
company assembled, which prevented the cotillion-dancing till after
supper.

"At half after ten the Rotunda was opened for supper, which discovered
three circular tables, of different elevations, elegantly set out,
though not profusely covered. The Rotunda was finely illuminated with
party-coloured lamps, and those displayed with great taste; the centre
was solely appropriated for one of the fullest and finest bands of
musick, vocal and instrumental, ever collected in these kingdoms; the
number being 240, in which were included the first masters, led by
Giardini; and the whole directed by Mr. Simpson, in a manner that did
him great credit. It was opened with a new grand piece composed for the
occasion; after which various catches and glees were sung by Messrs.
Vernon, Reinhold, &c.

"Supper being over, a part of the company retired to the Temple,
where they danced minuets, cotillions, &c. while others entertained
themselves in the great room.

"The company consisted of about 2000, amongst which were the first
personages of distinction; _viz._ the Dukes of Gloucester and
Cumberland, Duke of Northumberland, Lords North, Harrington, Stanley,
Tyrconnel, Lincoln, their respective ladies, &c. also Lords Lyttelton,
Colrane, Carlisle, March, Melbourne, Cholmondeley, Petersham, &c.; the
French, Spanish, Prussian, Russian, and Neapolitan Ambassadors, &c.

"Mrs. Cornely had the sole management of the decorations and supper,
for which she was allowed 700 guineas; the supper was but indifferent,
and the wine very scarce.

"It is said that part of the company returning this morning early from
Ranelagh by water met with some accidents, and that four persons were
drowned."

I shall now confine myself entirely to the Theatres, with which this
article necessarily concludes. The different amusements of the present
day will come under review in another place.

Mr. Foote had long entertained the inhabitants of London with a variety
of scenic representations, and met with the most rapturous applause;
his dramatic pieces are pregnant with satire, and he stung the votaries
of vice and folly by the most pointed applications. His dispute with
the Dutchess of Kingston has been too often repeated to bear another
recital; but his letter to the Lord Chamberlain on the suppression
of the "Trip to Calais," in which the above lady was supposed to be
alluded to, is too short to create _tedium_, and too witty not to give
pleasure after twenty perusals.

"My Lord, I did intend troubling your lordship with an earlier address;
but the day after I received your prohibitory mandate, I had the honour
of a visit from Lord Mountstuart, to whose interposition, I find, I am
indebted for your first commands, relative to the 'Trip to Calais,' by
Mr. Chetwynd, and your final rejection of it by Colonel Keen.

"Lord Mountstuart has, I presume, told your Lordship, that he read with
me those scenes to which your Lordship objected; that he found them
collected from general nature, and applicable to none but those who,
through consciousness, were compelled to a self-application. To such
minds, my Lord, the Whole Duty of Man, next to the Sacred Writings,
is the severest satire that ever was wrote; and to the same mark if
Comedy directs not her aim, her arrows are shot in the air; for by what
touches no man, no man will be mended. Lord Mountstuart desired that I
would suffer him to take the play with him, and let him leave it with
the Dutchess of Kingston: he had my consent, my Lord, and at the same
time an assurance, that I was willing to make any alteration that her
Grace would suggest. Her Grace saw the play, and, in consequence, I
saw her Grace; with the result of that interview, I shall not, at this
time, trouble your Lordship. It may perhaps be necessary to observe,
that her Grace could not discern, which your Lordship, I dare say,
will readily believe, a single trait in the character of Lady Kitty
Crocodile, that resembled herself.

"After this representation, your Lordship will, I doubt not, permit me
to enjoy the fruits of my labour; nor will you think it reasonable
because a capricious individual has taken it into her head that I have
pinned her ruffles awry, that I should be punished by a poignard stuck
deep in my heart: your Lordship has too much candour and justice to be
the instrument of so violent and ill-directed a blow.

"Your Lordship's determination is not only of the greatest importance
to me now, but must inevitably decide my fate for the future, as,
after this defeat, it will be impossible for me to muster up courage
enough to face Folly again: between the Muse and the Magistrate there
is a natural confederacy; what the last cannot punish, the first often
corrects; but when she finds herself not only deserted by her antient
ally, but sees him armed in the defence of her foe, she has nothing
left but a speedy retreat: adieu, then, my Lord, to the Stage. _Valeat
res ludicra_; to which, I hope, I may with justice add _Plaudite_; as,
during my continuance in the service of the publick, I never profited
by flattering their passions, or falling in with their humours; as,
upon all occasions, I have exerted my little powers (as, indeed,
I thought it my duty), in exposing follies, how much soever the
favourites of the day; and pernicious prejudices, however protected
and popular. This, my Lord, has been done, if those may be believed
who have the best right to know, sometimes with success; let me add
too, that in doing this I never lost my credit with the publick,
because they knew that I proceeded upon principle, that I disdained
being either the echo or the instrument of any man, however exalted his
station, and that I never received reward or protection from any other
hands than their own.

"I have the honour to be, &c.

"SAMUEL FOOTE."

Mr. Garrick, whose unrivalled powers as an actor have ever been the
theme of applause and admiration, retired from the Stage in June 1776,
when in full possession of his extraordinary faculties, after disposing
of his share and patent of Drury-lane Theatre to Messrs. Ford, Ewart,
Sheridan, and Linley, for 35,000_l._

The property of the Theatre in the Haymarket was transferred from
Mr. Foote to Mr. Colman in the following year, and has remained in
that gentleman's and his son's possession till very lately. It will
be sufficient to observe of this place of amusement, that it is too
confined for a _Summer_ Theatre, and to accommodate the crowds which
attend it, attracted by the best old plays, many excellent new ones,
and good performers selected from the Winter and Provincial Theatres.

The reader who recollects my previous notices of the enlargement of
Drury-lane Theatre will perceive, from those and the subsequent, how
rapidly population and the admiration of theatrical amusements have
increased. Mr. Harris, proprietor of Covent-garden Playhouse, found
it necessary in 1782 to raise the roof eight feet, and make other
alterations, to benefit himself, and accommodate the publick. It was
then that the Theatre was adorned with those genuine ornaments in the
Grecian style, which have lately given place to I know not what strange
substitutes of painted deal boards.

Mr. Kemble, the present Roscius of the British Stage, made his first
appearance in 1784; but his accomplished and unrivalled sister had
astonished and delighted the publick in the previous year. The _two_
Thalias, Farren and Jordan, were contemporaries with the celebrated
tragedians; but the former is now a Countess, and the latter I had
_almost_ said a Princess, though still the object of rapturous
approbation on the Stage.

The year 1785 produced the agitation of a singular problem, which
has never yet been solved. While an actor of abilities performs upon
the two Stages of Drury-lane and Covent-garden under the patents of
the proprietors of those Theatres (as I have before observed), the
courtesy of the world, or their own pretensions, dignifies them with
the appellations of Gentlemen and even Esquires; but let the same men
only step on the stage of a theatre opened without a patent or licence,
and he instantly becomes a rogue and vagabond. At the time alluded
to, the late Mr. Palmer, an excellent comedian, supported by a large
subscription, determined to erect a new Theatre near Wellclose-square
for the performance of plays, as at the established houses, without
having first obtained a patent or licence; and, however astonishing it
may appear, he actually completed the house, and obtained several of
the higher rank of performers from the two Theatres. The event might
have been anticipated: when every thing was in readiness to receive
the publick, Palmer became a _rogue and vagabond_; and as such the
persons engaged deserted his _company_. He struggled, remonstrated,
and at length went to prison. Since that period the Theatre at
Wellclose-square remains a _memento_ of rashness and folly, used only
at intervals through the indulgence of the Magistracy, by Astley and
others, for the representation of dances, burlettas, serious ballets,
and pantomimes.

A most extraordinary occurrence in the affairs of the Stage marked the
year 1789; which was Mr. Macklin's _attempt_ to perform the character
of Shylock at the age of _ninety_.

The Theatre of Drury-lane was generally supposed at that time to have
arrived at a period of decay, which rendered the safety of a crowded
audience at least problematical. The proprietors therefore determined
to rebuild it on an enlarged and magnificent plan; and for this
purpose they hired the new Opera-house in the Haymarket for theatrical
performances in 1791, while their own Theatre was in progress; and an
advance in the prices of admission of 6_d._ in the pit and 1_s._ in
the boxes took place, as it was said, to reimburse the extraordinary
expences of the measure.

The following account of the operations attending the re-building
appeared in one of the public papers of the time.

"One of the corner-stones of the new Drury-lane Theatre was laid on
Tuesday September 4, 1792, and, as usual, some coins of the present day
were deposited under it. The principal foundation stone will be laid in
a few days, and it is said that a grand procession will appear at the
ceremony of it.

"The articles which follow concerning this Theatre, we can vouch for
being correct: and the curious, as well as those who are theatrically
inclined, will be glad to read them.

"The delay in the building of this new Theatre, which was originally
intended to have been finished by the opening of the ensuing season,
has been occasioned partly from Mr. Sheridan's mind having been long
employed in performing the last mournful duties of a husband; and
from a dispute in the purchase of the dormant patent belonging to
Covent-garden Theatre, on which security the money for the new building
was to be advanced. Mr. Harris had agreed with Mr. Sheridan for the
price of this patent at 15,000_l._

"The old Theatre was pulled down, and the money offered to be paid for
the patent, when it occurred that there were other persons necessary to
be consulted, who had a property in it. Mr. White, who had married a
Miss Powell, had a quarter share of the patent; and when the assignment
of it was offered him to be signed, he objected, and said he would not
sell his share under 5000_l._

"Here then was a difficulty which had never been thought of. The old
Drury was pulled down, and the money for the new House was not to
be advanced without the patent. What was to be done? There was much
cavilling on both sides; and the dispute had the appearance of being
drawn into Chancery, to compel Mr. White to sell. All this time Mr.
Sheridan was paying 5_l. per cent._ interest for the first payment
that had been advanced for the new building, which was laying idle;
his present Theatre in the Haymarket was filling every night with new
Proprietors' tickets; and he was paying a heavy ground-rent to the Duke
of Bedford. This was a ruinous business,--and at length Mr. Sheridan
concluded a bargain a few days since at the price of 20,000_l._ for the
dormant patent. It is believed that had he employed his usual _finesse_
in the management of this affair, as well as in the dear bargain he
made for the Haymarket Theatre, he might have saved himself full
20,000_l._; for he has been likewise outwitted in the agreement he
entered into with Mr. Taylor, which we shall speak of to-morrow.

"The new Drury, however, now proceeds; and Mr. Holland has declared he
will have the Theatre covered in by the month of January next. The plan
is extremely magnificent, and will afford the most ample accommodation.
It is almost a square. A very grand piazzi will be built round three
sides of it, over which will be setts of chambers. The Theatre will be
insulated, as there are to be streets all round it. An opening is to
be cut from Bridges-street into Drury-lane, through Vinegar-yard; and
as the Theatre will extend to Drury-lane, there will be on one side
Brydges-street, on the other Russell-street, the third Drury-lane,
and on the fourth, the street through Vinegar-yard. Thus will there
be avenues on all sides; and then can the Theatre be emptied of its
company in the space of a quarter of an hour, a convenience which is
much required.

"The money raised for this building is 150,000_l._ payable in three
instalments.--60,000_l._ of this is to pay off the mortgagees on
the old Theatre----80,000_l._ is allotted for the new building, and
10,000_l._ for contingent expences. The mode of raising this money is
by an annuity of 100 years at 5 _per cent._ and a free admission for
every subscription of 500_l._ which already bears a premium of 5_l.
per cent._"

The Theatre is completed; but the East and West ends remain in a state
of ruin, which must be injurious to the walls and foundations. The
sides are faced with stone, and ornamented with pediments; and an
unfinished colonnade protects the audience from rain, while waiting for
admission; or their carriages are drawn before the doors on retiring
from the amusements of the evening. A description of the interior is in
a great measure unnecessary, and would be difficult to comprehend: the
shape is that of the lyre, as indeed are all our present Theatres, and
the decorations appear very splendid, though they are nothing more than
plain boards well painted in relief; in short, the silvered pillars,
and the beams, and the outward walls, are the only _substantial_ parts
of the building; and yet the effect is wonderfully magnificent, and far
superior to Covent-garden Theatre, which underwent great enlargements,
but in my opinion no improvements, at least in effect, about the time
Drury-lane was completed.

The ensuing particulars were given in the Gentleman's Magazine for
1794: "New Drury-lane Theatre contains in the pit 800 persons; whole
range of boxes 1828; two shilling gallery 675; one shilling gallery
308; total 3611: amounting to 826_l._ 6_s._ There are eight private
boxes on each side of the pit; 29 all round the first tier, and eleven
_back front_ boxes; 29 all round the second tier, of which eleven are
six seats deep; 10 on each side the gallery three tier; boxes in the
cove nine each side. Diameter of the pit is 55 feet; opening of the
curtain 43 feet wide; height of the curtain 38 feet; height of the
house from the pit floor to the cieling 56 feet 6 inches."

The proprietors deserve every praise for the precautions they have
taken to extinguish fire, by providing reservoirs of water in different
parts of the building, and an iron curtain to drop between the audience
and the stage. Whether those in the hurry of so dreadful a moment,
would be of any real use, is a question which I sincerely hope will
never be decided; I cannot, however, help observing that many large
doors seem so obviously necessary in Theatres, that I dare not attempt
to account for the diminutive size of the two through which the
audience actually creep in the pit of Covent-garden Theatre. An alarm
of fire in that house must end fatally, whether it spread, or was
immediately extinguished[310:A].

The amusements of the present day are very confined: the two Theatres
and the Opera for the winter, and the Haymarket for the summer, are
the only _established_ places of entertainment; if the latter can be
called such, which dares not open till May 15, and _must close_ by
September 14. Astley is a veteran in scenic feats at his Amphitheatre
and _Pavilion_; Sadler's wells is a more permanent establishment: and
the Circus and Wellclose Theatre are mere _moderns_ in comparison; but
these are literally Summer houses, as the proprietors are compelled to
confine their performances to the period between Easter and October.
There are other inferior places of resort opened at intervals,
exclusive of the various Concerts; but few of which deserve notice.

FOOTNOTES:

[113:A] The ridiculous tricks mentioned in the "famous Dutch-woman's"
bill of fare were permitted without reprehension. These will serve to
shew how stationary the entertainments of this place are: six companies
of rope-dancers coalesced. "You will see a wonderful girl of ten years
of age who walks backwards up the sloping rope driving a wheelbarrow
behind her; also you will see the great Italian Master, who not only
passes all that has yet been seen upon the low rope, but he dances
without a pole upon the head of a mast as high as the booth will
permit, and afterwards stands upon his head on the same. You will be
also entertained with the merry conceits of an Italian scaramouch, who
dances on the rope with two children and a dog in a wheelbarrow, and a
duck on his head."

[148:A] Flying Post, August 22, 1717.

[204:A] Shakspeare's Richard III.

[224:A] London Chronicle.

[227:A] The excessive crowd and pressure on those occasions provokes
every passion of the human breast to their utmost extent; hence every
petty dispute swells into a wide-spreading fray, and every little alarm
becomes the source of horror and despair: a melancholy proof of this
fact occurred in October 1807, at Sadler's-wells, when the words _a
fight!_ were construed by certain terrified ladies into _fire!_ and,
wonderful as it may appear, though neither light nor smoke were seen,
nor was it scarcely possible a fire could happen in that Theatre, such
are the precautions used by the managers, yet a phrensy took place in
the gallery altogether unaccountable. The entreaties and despairing
cries of the managers with speaking trumpets, that there was no fire,
availed nothing: persons, regardless of their lives, threw themselves
over into the pit; and eighteen died from pressure and suffocation
on the gallery stairs: numbers, besides, will probably suffer long
from their bruises. Every possible recompence has been made to their
surviving friends by the Proprietors, who have prosecuted the wretches
whose hateful tempers excited the terror, and given two _free_
benefits, the produce to be divided between those deprived of support
by the unexpected death of their fathers or husbands. Indeed their
conduct deserves the thanks of the publick.

[236:A] These veterans died within a year of each other; the latter
in September 1806, aged 78: they were almost the last survivors of
Garrick's school.

[236:B] This actor was sent a short time before to announce a
Comedy for representation to the audience, and forgot the title;
after pronouncing the word "called"--"called" several times, a tar
vociferated "The Tempest;"--"True," said Obrien, "The Tempest."

[252:A] _The True-born Irishman_, written by Macklin.

[310:A] Both were reduced to ashes, Covent-garden at the close of
1808, and Drury-lane in the beginning of 1809, and _both accidentally_
without doubt.

CHAP. VIII.

ANECDOTES OF DRESS, AND OF THE CAPRICES OF FASHION.

To render past fashions as intelligible as possible, I beg leave to
refer to the prints annexed; by which every remarkable change in male
and female dress may be traced between 1700 and 1806.

The Ladies Bodice or Stays were sometimes made of silk, with black
straps to fasten with buckles set with stones or false jewels.

The head had a covering called a Hood, and this was in the form that is
now worn by old-fashioned people on the upper part of the Cloak: they
were of satin, sarsnet, or velvet.

[Illustration: _Dress 1690-1715_]

[Illustration: _Dress 1721_]

[Illustration: _Dress 1735_]

[Illustration: _Dress 1738_]

[Illustration: _Dress 1745_]

[Illustration: _Dress 1752_]

[Illustration: _Dress 1766_]

[Illustration: _Dress circa 1770, 1773_]

[Illustration: _Dress circa 1785_]

[Illustration: _Dress 1797_]

[Illustration: _Dress 1807_]

Ear-rings, and Girdles fastened by buckles, were common, as were
coloured gowns lined with striped silks. Lady Anderson, whose house
was robbed at a fire in Red Lion-square in 1700, lost one of this
description of _orange_ damask lined with striped silk. The family of
George Heneage, Esq. at the same time, and by the same casualty, lost
"a _head_ with very fine looped lace of very great value, a Flanders
laced Hood, a pair of double Ruffles and Tuckers; two laced Aprons, one
point, the other Flanders lace; and a large black Scarf embroidered
with gold."

At the same period the ladies wore Holland Petticoats, embroidered in
figures with different-coloured silks and gold, with broad orrice at
the bottom.

It may be inferred from the ensuing story that Wigs of delicate and
beautiful hair, whether for the use of ladies or gentlemen, were in
great demand, or highly valued, by some of our beaus or belles.

"An Oxfordshire Lass was lately courted by a young man of that country,
who was not willing to marry her unless her friends could advance
50_l._ for her portion; which they being incapable of doing, the lass
came to this City to try her fortune, where she met with a good chapman
in the Strand, who made a purchase of her Hair (which was delicately
long and light), and gave her _sixty pounds_ for it, being 20 ounces
at 3_l. an ounce_; with which money she joyfully returned into the
Country, and bought her a husband." _Protestant Mercury, July 10,
1700._

Admitting this tale to be a mere fabrication to fill the paper, it is
by no means to be doubted that good Hair sold at 3_l. per_ ounce.

The Sword as one of the most reprehensible articles used in the dress
of the gentlemen. It is undoubtedly an incumbrance to a well-bred man;
but dangling by the side of an awkward person it becomes ridiculous,
troublesome to himself, and intolerable to his neighbours. These
observations apply only to the _absurdity_ of the custom: as a
dangerous weapon ready on a sudden quarrel, humanity revolts against
its use. The following notice from the Gazette of January 1, 1701,
will shew, that Government was at least careful of the lives of that
honourable set of gentlemen _ycleped_ Footmen who sported _their_
side-arms.

"By the Right Hon. Charles Earl of Carlisle, Earl Marshal of England
during the minority of Thomas Duke of Norfolk. Whereas many mischiefs
and dangerous accidents, tending not only to the highest breach of
the peace, but also to the destruction of the lives of his Majesty's
subjects, have happened and been occasioned by Footmen wearing of
swords: for prevention of the like evil accidents and disturbances
for the future, I do hereby order, that no Footman attending any of
the nobility or gentry of his Majesty's realms shall wear any sword,
hanger, _bayonet_, or other such like offensive weapon, during such
time as they or any of them shall reside or be within the Cities of
London and Westminster, and the liberties and precincts of the same, as
they will answer the contrary hereof. Given under my hand, and the Seal
of the Office of Earl Marshal of England, the 30th day of December,
1701, in the 13th year of the reign of our Sovereign Lord King William
the Third of England, &c.

"CARLISLE, E. M."

Muffs were in use before the year 1700, but very different in shape
and materials from those of the present day. What would a fashionable
belle say to a Furrier, who should offer her one for sale made of the
Leopard's skin? Yet such were worn in 1702.

In the same year it was customary to adorn the arm with Lockets,
as they were then called. A large one is thus described in an
advertisement as lost by a lady: "Striped with dark brown and fair
hair, wrought like Camlet, the hair set in gold, over the hair a cypher
of four letters, R. A. M. L. under a cut crystal, and set round with
ten rose diamonds."

Diamond Stomachers adorned the ladies' breasts, which were composed of
that valuable stone set in silver, and sewed in a variety of figures
upon black silk; and they must be admitted to have been a brilliant, if
not an elegant ornament.

The men imported the Campaign Wig from France. Those were made very
full, were curled, and eighteen inches in length to the front, with
drop locks. When _human_ hair was scarce, a little _horse_ hair
supplied the place in the parts least in sight.

An advertisement issued in 1703 gives a whole-length portrait of the
dress of a Youth in the middle rank of life. Such a figure would
attract much wonder at present in the streets of London. "He is of
a fair complexion, light-brown lank hair, having on a dark-brown
frieze Coat, double-breasted on each side, with black buttons and
button-holes; a light drugget Waistcoat, _red-shag Breeches striped
with black stripes_, and _black_ Stockings."

Mourning Rings were used in 1703.

Satin Gowns were lined with Persian silk; and laced Kerchiefs, and
Spanish leather Shoes, laced with gold, were common. To these the
Ladies added bare breasts, with gold and other Crosses suspended on
them.

The odd custom of setting little circular pieces of black silk on
various parts of the female face, well known by the name of _Patches_
even in our enlightened days, prevailed to a most extravagant degree
at the time I am now treating of: they then, as at present, varied in
size, and were supported by their auxiliaries in elegance, frizzed and
powdered _false Locks_, and emulated by the men's Sword-knots and black
silk facings to their Coats.

The Ladies must indeed have exhibited a wonderful appearance in 1709:
behold one equipped in a black silk Petticoat with a red and white
calico border, cherry-coloured Stays trimmed with blue and silver,
a red and dove-coloured damask Gown flowered with large trees, a
yellow satin Apron trimmed with white Persian, and muslin Head-cloths
with crowfoot edging, double Ruffles with fine edging, a black silk
furbelowed Scarf, and a spotted Hood! Such were the clothes advertised
as stolen in the Post-Boy of November 15. To cover all this finery from
rain the fashionables had Umbrellas. The Female Tatler of December 12
says, "The young gentleman belonging to the Custom-house, that for fear
of rain borrowed the _Umbrella_ at Will's Coffee-house in Cornhill of
the _Mistress_, is hereby advertised that to be dry from head to foot
on the like occasion he shall be welcome _to the Maid's pattens_;"
which seems to imply that this useful invention was then considered as
too effeminate for Men.

Sedans were in use at the same time; but I should imagine not
generally, as the same writer describes a _City_ Lady rendered sick,
and dislocating her neck, by being carried in one, and rising too
suddenly.

The ridiculous long Wigs of 1710 were very expensive: one was
advertised as stolen in that year, and said to be worth five
guineas; and Duumvir's "fair Wig" in the Tatler, No. 54, "cost forty
guineas." But, lest it should be supposed that the gentlemen _only_
were extravagant in decorating the _caput_, take the prices from the
Lace-chamber on Ludgate-hill: "One Brussels head at 40_l._; one ground
Brussels head at 30_l._; one looped Brussels head at 30_l._"

The Tatler ludicrously advertises "A Stage Coach as departing from
Nando's Coffee-house for Mr. Tiptoe's Dancing-school every evening;"
and adds the following: "N. B. Dancing-shoes not exceeding _four
inches height in the heel_, and Perriwigs not exceeding _three feet in
length_, are carried in the Coach-box _gratis_."

Those unfortunate persons who were born with golden tresses, and those
who had lived to bear the silver locks of Time, and did not choose to
carry the weight of the above tremendous wigs, were not without their
_Tricosian fluid_; for Mr. Michon, goldsmith, informed them in 1710,
that he had "found out" "a clear water," which would convert them into
brown or black locks.

Mr. Bickerstaff notices the extreme nakedness of the ladies' breasts at
this time; and casually mentions the beau's pearl-coloured stockings
and _red_-topped shoes, fringed gloves, large wigs, and feathers in the
hat.

A lady's Riding-dress was advertised for sale in the Spectator of
June 2, 1711, "of blue Camblet well laced with silver; being a coat,
waistcoat, petticoat, hat and feather." Another in 1712 mentions an
_Isabella_ coloured _Kincob_ Gown, flowered with green and gold, a
dark-coloured _cloth_ (probably linen) Gown and Petticoat with two
silver orrices, a purple and gold _Atlas_ Gown; a _scarlet and gold_
Atlas Petticoat edged with silver, a wrought _Under_-petticoat edged
with gold, a black velvet Petticoat; _Allejah_ Petticoat striped with
green gold and white, a blue and silver silk Gown and Petticoat, a blue
and gold Atlas Gown and Petticoat, and clogs laced with silver. These
were the property of Mr. Peter Paggen of Love-lane near Eastcheap,
brewer, who fined for Sheriff in 1712; and were probably the dresses
of the females of his family. That _they_, or whoever wore such, were
very gaudy, cannot be denied; but those rich coverings for the body
were matched by the decorations of the head: if the hips had their
scarlet, the seat of the understanding had its blue, yellow, pink,
and green Hoods. The Spectator says, "When Melesinda wraps her head
in _flame_ colour, her heart is set upon execution." The majority of
these fashions were doubtlessly from France, as the same work describes
a Parisian Doll imported by the Milliners; a custom most religiously
continued during the rare intervals of peace between the two Countries.

To the above list of finery pray let me add Mrs. Beale's loss in 1712.
"A green silk knit Waistcoat with gold and silver flowers _all over
it_, and _about fourteen_ yards of gold and silver _thick_ lace on it.
And a Petticoat of rich strong flowered satin red and white, _all in
great_ flowers or leaves, and _scarlet_ flowers with _black specks_
brocaded in, _raised high like Velvet or Shag_." Surely if James I. had
seen this Waistcoat and Petticoat, he would have sadly abused his two
subjects who wore them; they even set the Stomachers of Queen Bess at
defiance, except that they are deficient in _Jewelry_. And in 1714 Mr.
John Osheal had the misfortune to be robbed of "a scarlet cloth Suit,
laced with broad gold lace, lined and faced with blue; a fine cinnamon
cloth Suit with plate buttons, the Waistcoat fringed with a silk fringe
of the same colour, and a rich _yellow_ flowered satin morning Gown
lined with a cherry-coloured satin, with a pocket on the right side."

The extreme richness of the habits of those days were accompanied by
equal extravagance in the furniture of Beds, advertised as stolen
1715, and thus described: "Four Curtains of damask, a blue ground and
changeable flowers; the curtains lined with white satin, having a mixed
fringe. A white satin Quilt to the said bed embroidered. Four flowered
velvet Curtains of a yellowish ash-colour, in a border of the same
kind of flowered velvet of a musk-colour; the border trimmed with green
lace with a stripe of red, lined with a striped India muslin." Those
were the property of a lady resident in Bedford-row, whose name is not
mentioned.

The Weekly Journal of January 1717 mentions the death of the celebrated
mantua-maker Mrs. Selby, whose inventive talents supplied the ladies
with that absurd and troublesome obstruction, that enemy to elegance
and symmetry, the Hooped Petticoat. The same paper of a subsequent
date contains an humourous essay on the advantages and disadvantages
of the Hooped Petticoat. As I presume the reader with me inclines to
the disadvantages, he will be pleased with a short extract: "I believe
it would puzzle the quickest invention to find out one tolerable
conveniency in these machines. I appeal to the sincerity of the ladies,
whether they are not a great incumbrance upon all occasions (vanity
apart) both at home and abroad. What skill and management is required
to reduce one of these circles within the limits of a chair, or to
find space for two in a chariot; and what precautions must a modest
female take even to enter at the doors of a private family without
obstruction! Then a vivacious damsel cannot turn herself round in a
room a little inconsiderately without oversetting every thing like a
whirlwind; stands and tea-tables, flower-pots, China-jars and basins
innumerable, perish daily by this spreading mischief, which, like a
Comet, spares nothing that comes within its sweep. Neither is this
fashion more ornamental than convenient. Nothing can be imagined more
unnatural, and consequently less agreeable. When a slender Virgin
stands upon a basis so exorbitantly wide, she resembles a funnel, a
figure of no great elegancy; and I have seen many fine ladies of a low
stature, who, when they sail in their hoops about an apartment, look
like children in Go-carts."

Black and white beaver Hats for ladies were advertised in 1719, faced
with coloured silks, and trimmed with gold or silver lace.

Wigs maintained their ground in 1720; and white hair for the
manufacture of them bore a monstrous price, if we may credit that that
of a woman aged 170, of a very considerable length, produced 50_l._
after her death from a Perriwig-maker. _Original Weekly Journal._

The man of fashion in 1720 wore the full-curled flowing Wig, which
fell in ringlets half way down his arms and back; a Neckcloth tied
tight round his neck; a Coat reaching to his ancles, laced, strait,
formal, with buttons to the very bottom, and several on the pockets and
sleeves; his Shoes were square at the toes, had diminutive buckles, a
monstrous flap on the instep, and high heels; a belt secured the coat,
and supported the Sword.

A man advertised a wonderful Wig to be seen in Sidney-alley,
Leicester-fields, at one shilling each person in February 1721. He said
it was made without weaving or sewing; in short, as Sterne says, it
might be immersed in the Ocean without derangement.

The ladies wore Hooped Petticoats, scarlet Cloaks, and Masks, when
walking. The Hoops were fair game for the wits, and they spared them
not.

"An elderly lady whose bulky squat figure
By hoop and white damask was rendered much bigger,
Without hood and bare-neck'd to the Park did repair,
To shew her new clothes, and to take the fresh air;
Her shape, her attire, rais'd a shout and loud laughter;
Away waddles Madam; the mob hurries after.
Quoth a wag, then observing the noisy crowd follow,
As she came with a _hoop_, she is gone with a hollow."

If the Flying Post of June 14, 1722, may be credited, the Bishop of
Durham[323:A] appeared on horseback at a review in the King's train "in
a lay habit of purple with Jack boots, and his hat cocked, and a black
wig tied behind him, like a militant officer."

George II. reviewed the Guards in 1727, habited in gray cloth faced
with purple, with a purple feather in his hat; and the three eldest
Princesses "went to Richmond in riding-habits with hats and feathers
and _periwigs_." _Whitehall Evening Post, August 17._

If the reader will have the goodness to forgive the introduction of
very vile doggrel lines, I will in turn present him with a Beau of 1727:

"Take one of the brights from St. James's or White's;
'Twill best be if nigh six feet he prove high.
Then take of fine linen enough to wrap him in;
Right Mechlin must twist round his bosom and wrist,
Red heels to his shoes, gold clocks to his hose,
With calves _quantum suff_--for a muff;
In black velvet breeches let him put all his riches;
Then cover his waist with a suit that's well lac'd.
'Tis best if he wears not more than ten hairs,
To keep his brains cool on each side his scull.
Let a queue be prepar'd, twice as long as a yard,
Short measure I mean; there is great odds between.
This done, your Beau place before a large glass;
The recipe to fulfil mix with powder pulvil;
And then let it moulder away on his shoulder.
Let a sword then be tied up to his left side,
And under his arm place his hat for a charm.
Then let him learn dancing, and to ride horses prancing,
Italian and French, to drink and to wench:
O! then with what wonder will he fill the _beau monde_ here!"

_Mist's Journal._

I have met with the following description of the dress of a Running
Footman in 1730: "They wear fine Holland drawers and waistcoats, thread
stockings, a blue silk sash fringed with silver, a velvet cap with a
great tassel; and carry a Porter's staff with a large silver handle."

The Beaus of the day seemed emulous of the Running fraternity in the
latter part of their _insignia_, according to the Universal Spectator,
which says: "The wearing of Swords at the Court-end of the town is by
many polite young gentlemen laid aside; and instead thereof they carry
large Oak Sticks, _with great heads and ugly faces carved thereon_."

An advertisement in March 1731 mentions several articles of the
dress of the time; amongst which were, "a black velvet Petticoat; a
rose-coloured paduasoy Mantua, lined with a rich mantua silk of the
same colour; a Suit of black paduasoy; a long velvet Scarf, lined with
a shot silk of pink and blue; a long velvet Hood; a long silk Hood
laced; two white short silk Aprons, one embroidered with silk at the
edges; one green silk Apron embroidered with silk and silver; three
new muslin India half Handkerchiefs, spotted with plated silver; two
gauze half Handkerchiefs, one brown embroidered with gold, silver, and
silk; a short crimson satin Cloak, lined with white silk; a gold and
silver Girdle, with Buckles set with Bristol stones, &c."

The Weekly Register of July 10, 1731, contains a lively survey of
female dress, which I have transcribed for the information and
amusement of the reader.

"A GENERAL REVIEW OF FEMALE FASHIONS; ADDRESSED TO THE LADIES.

"The love of novelty is the parent of fashion, and, as the
fancy sickens with one image, it longs for another. This
is the cause of the continued revolutions of habit and
behaviour, and why we are so industrious in pursuing the
change: this makes fashion so universally followed, and is
the true reason why the awkwardest people are as fond of this
folly as the genteelest, who give a grace to every thing they
wear. This affectation indeed is so notorious, that a certain
lady of humour and quality, trusting to the inimitable
beauties of her own person, very frequently invented some
whimsical dress, which she herself was sure to become, that
the rest of the ladies might copy her to their own confusion;
but as soon as the stratagem had effectually taken place,
she laughed at their folly, and left them to be ridiculous
by themselves. Hence it is plain that every novelty is
not beauty, and that it requires great elegance of taste,
and truth of judgment, to determine the modes of dress,
that every one should consult the particular turn of their
own manner in their choice, and be well convinced of its
propriety, before they ventured to set the world an example.
But, as this is very seldom found, I shall content myself
with recommending it only, and make the present entertainment
a mere Register of the fashions that are by turns in vogue,
with a hint or two at the characters of the inventors. I
shall not busy myself with the ladies Shoes and Stockings at
all; it may serve to recal some ideas to the young fellows of
this age, which it does not become my character and office
to encourage; but I cannot so easily pass over the Hoop when
it is in my way, and therefore I must beg pardon of my fair
readers, if I begin my attack where the above-mentioned
pretty gentlemen end theirs. It is now some years since this
remarkable fashion made a figure in the world, and, from
its first beginning, divided the public opinion, as to its
convenience and beauty. For my own part, I was always willing
to indulge it, under some restrictions; that is to say, if
it is not a rival to the dome of St. Paul's, to incumber the
way, or a tub for the resistance of a new Diogenes; if it
does not eclipse too much beauty above, or discover too much
below.--In short, I am for living in peace; and I am afraid
a fine lady, with too much liberty in this particular, would
render my own imagination an enemy to my repose.

"The Farthingal, according to several paintings, and even
history itself, is as old as Queen Elizabeth, of blessed
memory, though it is possible it had its original in the same
manner with the hoop, and was worn as universally: but the
prudes of our days revived it in stark opposition to that
fashion, and boasted that while they were in that circle,
they were secure from temptation; nay, some of them have
presumed to say it gave them all the chastity of that heroic
Princess, who died, as she had lived, a virgin, after so many
years of trial.--N. B. Her Maids of Honour wore Farthingals
as well as her Majesty, and undoubtedly participated of the
same virtue, though I submit that point to the examination of
the learned.

"The Stay is a part of modern dress that I have an invincible
aversion to, as giving a stiffness to the whole frame, which
is void of all grace, and an enemy to beauty; but, as I would
not offend the ladies by absolutely condemning what they
are so fond of, I will recall my censure, and only observe
that even this female armour is changing mode continually,
and favours or distresses the enemy according to the humour
of the wearer. Sometimes the Stomacher almost rises to the
chin, and a Modesty-bit serves the purpose of a Ruff: at
other times it is so complaisant as not to reach half way,
and the Modesty is but a transparent shade to the beauties
underneath. This is what one may call opening the windows of
Heaven, and giving us a view of Paradise; the other shuts up
every avenue, and makes Reserve a Dragon for its security:
the first may give passion too great a licence, and the last
may be an injury to nature: for which reason I recommend a
medium; Coquets are the encouragers of one, and Prudes of the
other.

"I have no objection to make to the Tippet. It may be made
an elegant and beautiful ornament; in Winter the sable is
wonderfully graceful, and a fine help to the complexion: in
Summer the colours and the composition are to be adapted
with judgment, neither dull without fancy, nor gaudy without
beauty. I have seen too many of the last; but, as I believe
them to be the first trial of a child's genius in such
performances, I only give this hint for their amendment.

"As the Breast-knot allows a good deal of ingenuity in the
delicate choice of colours, and disposition of figure, I
think it may be indulged; but very sparingly, and rather with
a negligence, than the least affectation.--It seems there is
a fashion even in the colours of ribands, and I have observed
a beautiful purple to be lately the general mode; but it is
not the beauty of the colour that recommends it so much, as
the symbol it is said to bear: a set of fashionable people
have thought fit to entitle themselves the Gallant Schemers,
and this is the ensign of the order; this is hung out to
distinguish the society, who publicly declare that gallantry
is their business, and pleasure their only idol.--I thought
myself obliged to make this known, that nobody, through
ignorance, might be led astray.--She that invented it, is
above regarding the discovery; such a liberty is but spirit
and genius in quality, and only meets with censure from the
vulgar.

"I come now to the Head-dress, the very highest point of
female elegance; and here I find such a variety of modes,
such a medley of decoration, that it is hard to know where
to fix: lace and cambrick, gauze and fringe, feathers and
ribands, create such a confusion, occasion such frequent
changes, that it defies art, judgment, or taste, to reconcile
them to any standard, or reduce them to any order.--That
ornament of the hair which is styled the Horns, and has been
in vogue so long, was certainly first calculated by some
good-natured lady to keep her spouse in countenance; and, by
sympathy, the fashion has prevailed ever since.--The _Tête
de Mouton_ has made no farther progress, than those who
first imported it from Paris. They inform you the wearer has
seen the world, and has acquired sense enough to contemn
the fashions of her own country, and courage enough to defy
them.--To this may be added, the _Robe de Chambre_; and then
the dull untravelled English may begin their ridicule as
soon as they please; there is more pleasure in being stared
at for the novelty, than there is pain in knowing they
condemn it.--But, though the _Tête de Mouton_ has had no
more success, we have imitations that will do as well; both
sides of a fashionable head are now curled out to the best
advantage, and I do not know but, by little and little, we
shall be able to conquer our difficulties, and appear with a
full fleece, till another foreign belle arrives to furnish us
with a new extravagance.

"The High-crowned Hat, after having been confined to cots and
villages for so long a time, is become the favourite mode of
quality, and is the politest distinction of a fashionable
undress. I quarrel with it only because it seems to be a
kind of masquerade; it would insinuate an idea of innocence
and rusticity, though the Park is not the likeliest place
to be the scene of either: in short, if a woman is dressed
like a Wood Nymph, I expect the simplicity of manners, and
full force of rural nature, which is of a piece with the
character; but I am generally most egregiously disappointed.
Some lady who was intimate with the intrigue of romances was
certainly the reviver of this custom; she had read of lucky
adventures in that disguise, and fancied an amour was its
inseparable companion. On which account I give public notice,
that a High-crowned Hat shall be esteemed as an emblem of an
amorous heart, and a signal for the first assignation that
falls in the way.

"The Hat and Peruke, which has been some time made part of a
lady's riding equipage, is such an odd kind of affectation,
that I hardly know under what species to range it; it is
such an enemy to female beauty, it is so foreign to every
amiable grace, it adds such a masculine fierceness to the
figure, and such a shameless boldness to every feature,
that neither decency nor elegance can justify it.--None but
Amazons ought to wear it; and, if any of the sex are now
courageous enough to bid defiance to mankind, I must insist
on their wearing the Breeches too, to make their disguise
complete. But I am apt to believe it is made use of on quite
different motives; it must certainly take place out of a more
than ordinary regard to us, and must be meant as the highest
compliment. Besides, it may serve to tickle the mind with
pretty imaginations; sometimes supply the absence of a beau,
and sometimes please with the resemblance. I never see one
of these Heroines without ascribing some such cause for her
gallantry; and always surmise with what readiness she would
part with the appearance in exchange for the reality.

"The Riding Habit simply, with the black velvet cap and
white feather, is, in my opinion, the most elegant dress
that belongs to the ladies' wardrobe; there is a grace and
gentility in it that all other dresses want; it displays the
shape and turn of the body to great advantage, and betrays
a negligence that is perfectly agreeable. This fashion was
certainly first invented by a woman of taste; and I am
pleased to see the ladies in general so well reconciled to
it. It argues something like good sense in their choice
still remaining; and she who makes her whole actions most
conformable to that standard, will always be most secure of
conquests and reputation."

Perukes were an highly important article in 1734. Those of _right gray
human hair_ were four guineas each; light grizzle Ties three guineas;
and other colours in proportion, to twenty-five shillings. Right gray
human hair Cue Perukes from two guineas to fifteen shillings each,
which was the price of dark cues: and right gray Bob Perukes two
guineas and an half to fifteen shillings, the price of dark bobs. Those
mixed with horse-hair were much lower. It will be observed from the
gradations in price, that real gray hair was most in fashion, and dark
of no estimation.

The following extracts will describe the dresses of 1735: "On his
Majesty's birth-day, the Queen was in a beautiful suit, made of silk
of the produce of Georgia; and the same was universally acknowleged
to excel that of any other country. The Noblemen and Gentlemen wore
chiefly at Court brown flowered velvets, or dark cloth Coats, laced
with gold or silver, or plain velvets of various colours, and Breeches
of the same; their Waistcoats were either gold stuffs, or rich flowered
silks of a large pattern, with a white ground: the make much the same
as has been worn some time, only many had open Sleeves to their Coats:
their Tie Wigs were with large curls, setting forward and rising from
the forehead, though not very high: the Ties were thick and longer than
of late, and both behind; some few had Bag Wigs.

"The Ladies wore flowered silks of various sorts, of a large pattern,
but mostly with a white ground with wide short Sleeves, and short
Petticoats: their Gowns were pinned up variously behind, though mostly
narrow. Some few had gold or silver nets on their Petticoats, and to
their Facings and Robings; and some had gold and silver nets on their
Gown-sleeves, like flounces: they wore chiefly fine escaloped laced
Heads, and dressed mostly English. Some few had their hair curled down
on the sides; but most of them had it pinned up quite strait, and
almost all of them with powder, both _before and behind_. Some few had
their heads made up Dutch, some with cockades of ribands on the side,
and others with artificial flowers; they wore treble escaloped laced
Ruffles, one fall tacked up before, and two down, but all three down
behind; though some few had two falls tacked up, and one down before.
Laced Tippets were much worn; some had diamond Solitaires to hook them
together; others had their jewels made up bows and ends. Those without
Tippets had mostly very broad-laced Tuckers, with diamond Necklaces
and Ear-rings. Diamond Buckles were much worn in the shoes both of the
gentlemen and ladies. Lord Castlemain made a very splendid appearance
among the young noblemen in a rich gold stuff Coat; as Lady Harcourt
did among the ladies, in a white ground rich silk embossed with gold
and silver, and fine coloured flowers of a large pattern."

The Editor of the London Evening Post has whimsically described the
dresses then prevailing, under the character of Miss Townley, in one
of his papers for December 1738, who observes: "I am a young woman
of fashion, who love plays, and should be glad to frequent them, as
an agreeable and instructive entertainment, but am debarred that
diversion by my relations, upon account of a sort of people who now
fill, or rather infest the Boxes. I went the other night to the play
with an aunt of mine, a well-bred woman of the last age, though a
little formal. When we sat down in the front boxes, we found ourselves
surrounded by a parcel of the strangest fellows that ever I saw in my
life; some of them had those loose kind of great Coats on, which I have
heard called _Wrap rascals_, with gold-laced Hats slouched, in humble
imitation of _Stage-coachmen_: others aspired at being _Grooms_, and
had dirty Boots and Spurs, with black Caps on, and long Whips in their
hands: a third sort wore scanty Frocks, little shabby Hats put on one
side, and Clubs in their hands. My aunt whispered me, she never saw
such a set of slovenly unmannerly Footmen sent to keep places in her
life; when, to her greater surprize, she saw those fellows _at the end
of the act pay the box-keeper for their places_."

Claret-coloured cloths were considered as handsome suits; and
light-blue, with silver button-holes, and silver garters to the knees,
was very fashionable between 1740 and 1751. In the latter year a trunk
containing these articles was advertised, which will be found to differ
but little from some already described. "A scarlet tabby Negligée
trimmed with gold; a green tabby Petticoat trimmed also with gold; a
white damask Negligée, trimmed with a blue snail blond lace, with a
Petticoat of the same; a silver brocade silk Negligée trimmed with
pink-coloured silk; a white fustian Riding-habit turned up with blue,
and laced with silver, a Petticoat of the same, and a Waistcoat trimmed
also with silver."

When our present Queen landed in England 1761, she was habited in a
gold Brocade with a white ground; had a Stomacher ornamented with
diamonds; and wore a Fly-cap with richly laced Lappets. Such was the
then female British dress, which her Majesty adopted in compliment to
her Royal consort's subjects.

General Napier lost by robbery in the same year "a painted silk
Negligée and Petticoat, the ground white, a running pattern of flowers
and leaves, the edges of the leaves painted in silver, and the veins
gold, with some birds and butterflies painted thereon."

The author of "Historical Remarks on Dress," published in 1761 by
Jefferies, asserts, that party-coloured Coats were first worn in
England in the time of Henry I.; Chaplets, or wreaths of artificial
flowers, in the time of Edward III.; Hoods and short Coats without
sleeves, called Tabarts, in the time of Henry IV.; Hats in the time
of Henry VII.; Ruffs in the reign of Edward VI.; and wrought Caps
or Bonnets in the time of Queen Elizabeth. Judge Finch introduced
the Band in the time of James I. French Hoods, Bibs, and Gorgets,
were discontinued by the Queen of Charles I. The Commode or Tower
was introduced in 1687; Shoes of the then fashion in 1633; Breeches,
instead of Trunk Hose, in 1654. And Perukes were first worn after the
Restoration.

"THE HISTORY OF THE FASHIONS[338:A].

"_The French Night-cap._

"Our fine women have, by covering their cheeks with this
fashion, put their faces into eclipse. Each lady, when
dressed in this mode, can only peep under the lace border.
Perhaps they are intended, like blinds to a horse's
head-harness, to teach ladies to look forward.--A good hint,
however.

"It has been whispered, indeed, that this mode is an
introduction to Popery; it is to bring in the veil by and by,
and a sort of trial, to see how our English Toasts will take
it.

"Some ill-natured persons, indeed, go so far as to say, that
every woman who wears these visage-covers, has done something
she should be a little ashamed of, and therefore do not care
to shew much of her face.

"_The Ranelagh Mob; or the Hood from Low Life._

"This is a piece of gauze, minionett, catgut, or Leicester
web, &c. &c. which is clouted about the head, then crossed
under the chin, and brought back to fasten behind, the two
ends hanging down like a pair of pigeons tails.

"This fashion was copied from the silk-handkerchiefs which
Market-women tie over their ears, roll about their throats,
and then pin up to the nape of their necks.

"They were first worn in the Inner-square of Covent-garden
market, among the green-stalls; it was from thence introduced
into the outward-square or Piazzas among the stalls there.

"Mrs. Jane Douglass (of procuring memory) who was a very
great market-woman in her way, was the first who made
a Scotch lawn double neck handkerchief into the Mob
above-mentioned.

"Her female boarders would do as the mistress did, to be
sure; and, after a little cut and contrivance, away they
whisked in them to Ranelagh.

"The ladies of fashion there, who sometimes dress almost like
ladies of the town, immediately took the hint. The fashion
flew abroad upon the wings of whim; and, as Schioppius
observes, instantly spread itself over the face of the land.

"_The Mary Queen of Scots Cap_,

"Edged down the face with French beads, was very becoming to
some complexions; but as the Cap was made of black gauze, and
saved washing, it has too much good housewifery in it, ever
to be immense taste.

"_The Fly Cap._

"This is fixed upon the forehead, forming the figure of
an over-grown butterfly, resting upon its head, with
outstretched wings; it is much worn at present, not that it
either adds to the colour or outlines of the face; but as
these Caps are edged with garnets, topazes, or brilliants,
they are very sparkling; and a side-box appearance is not now
altogether the consultation of elegance, but ornament.

"Therefore those ladies who make the most show, are looked
upon to be the finest women.

"It is become a very interesting dispute, among the
connoisseurs in general, whether the present Turban-roll,
which is now wore round the Mecklenburgh Caps, was taken from
the Ægyptian Fillet, the Persian Tiara, or Wreath round the
eldest Faustina's temples?

"By way of Postscript we may add, that the ladies, as to
their Shoe-heels, go just as they did, no fixed measure, some
as broad as a tea-cup's brim, some as narrow as the china
circle the cup stands upon.

"Bell-hoops, Blond-laces, Pompoons, Neck-laces as usual.
Modesty-bits--out of fashion; and Hats are trimmed as every
person pleases."

"THE HISTORY OF MALE FASHIONS.

"_First Chapter. Of Hats; after Hippocrates._

"Hats are now worn, upon an average, six inches and three
fifths broad in the brim, and cocked between Quaker and
Kevenhuller. Some have their Hats open before, like a
church-spout, or the tin scale they weigh flower in: some
wear them rather sharper, like the nose of a greyhound; and
we can distinguish by the taste of the Hat, the mode of the
wearer's mind. There is the military cock, and the mercantile
cock; and while the beaux of St. James's wear their Hats
under their arms, the beaux of Moorfields-mall wear their's
diagonally over their left or right eye.

"Sailors wear the sides of their Hats uniformly, tacked
down to the crown; and look as if they carried a triangular
apple-pasty upon their heads.

"I hope no person will think us disaffected; but when we meet
any of the new-raised infantry wearing the buttons of their
Hats bluff before, and the trefoil white worsted shaking as
they step, we cannot help thinking of French figure-dancers.

"With the Quakers, it is a point of their faith not to wear a
button, or loop tight up; their Hats spread over their heads
like a pent-house, and darken the outward man, to signify
they have the inward light.

"Some wear their Hats (with the corner that should come over
their foreheads in a direct line) pointed into the air; those
are the Gawkies.

"Others do not above half cover their heads, which is indeed
owing to the shallowness of their crowns; but between beaver
and eye-brows expose a piece of blank forehead, which looks
like a sandy road in a surveyor's plan. Indeed, people should
hide as much of the face under their Hats as possible; for
very few there are but what have done something for which
they ought to be out of countenance.

"I remember at a droll society established in Dublin, called
'The Court of Nassau,' a gentleman was indicted for wearing
his Hat in the Court: the Attorney-general moved, in favour
of the defendant, that the indictment was falsely laid; for
in it was expressed, the gentleman had his Hat upon his head;
and the Attorney proved his client not to have a head. Now
if, in London, no persons were to wear Hats but such as have
heads, what would become of the hatters? Yet this we may
safely avow, that a man may shew by his Hat whether he has
a head; or at least by the decorating it, whether his head
is properly furnished. A gold button and loop to a plain Hat
distinguishes a person to be a little lunatic; a gold band
round it shews the owner to be very dangerously infected;
and, if a tassel is added, the patient is incurable.

"A man with a Hat larger than common, represents the fable of
the Mountain in labour; and the Hats edged round with a gold
binding, belong to brothers of the Turf.

"_Second Chapter. Upon Wigs._

"Elaborately have both antients and moderns expressed
themselves concerning the brain, the pineal gland, ideas, and
cogitations, by which the head, or the animal spirits of the
head, properly trammeled, might pace in good order.

"But the only persons who can properly be of benefit to
heads, are periwig-makers, and Doctor Monro, Physician to
Moorfields Hospital.

"Wigs are as essential to every person's head, as lace is to
their clothes; and although understanding may be deficient
in the wearer as well as money, yet people dressed out look
pretty; and very fine gentlemen thus embellished represent
those pots upon Apothecaries' shelves which are much
ornament, but always stand empty.

"Behold a Barber's block unadorned: can we conceive any
higher idea of it, than that of a bruiser just preparing
to set to? Indeed, with a foliage round the temples, it
might serve in an Auction-room for the bust of a Cæsar;
and, provided it was properly worm-eaten, would be bid for
accordingly. But of that hereafter: our business now is to
shew the consequence of Wigs.

"_Imprimis._

"The 'Prentice Minor-bob, or Hair-cap; this is always short
in the neck, to show the stone Stock-buckle, and nicely
stroaked from the face, to discover seven-eighths of the
ears; and every Smart we meet so headed seems, like Tristram
Shandy, to have been skaiting against the wind; and his hair,
by the sharpness of the motion, shorn from his face.

"Next the Citizen's Sunday Buckle, or Bob-major; this is
a first-rate, bearing several tiers of curls, disposed in
upper, middle, and lower order.

"Then the Apothecary's Bush, in which the Hat seems sinking
like a stone into a snow heap.

"The Physical and Chirurgical Ties carry much consequence in
their foretops; and the depending knots fall fore and aft the
shoulders, with _secundum artem_ dignity.

"The Scratch, or the Blood's Skull-covering, is combed over
the forehead, untoupeed, to imitate a head of hair, because
those gentlemen love to have every thing natural about them.

"The Jehu's Jemmy, or White and all white, in little curls,
like a fine fleece on a lamb's back, we should say something
upon, were it not for fear of offending some gentlemen of
great riches, who love to look like coachmen.

"_Third Chapter. Frocks, Coats, Surtouts, and Walking-sticks._

"Every gentleman now, by the length of his skirts, seems
Dutch-waisted, or like a Bridewell-boy, with a garment down
to mid-leg; and they are so much splashed sometimes behind,
that I have, when following in a dirty day one of those very
fashionable frock-wearers, been tempted to call out--'Pray,
dear Sir, pin up your petticoats.'

"Then their cuffs cover entirely their wrists, and only the
edge of the ruffles are to be seen; as if they lived in the
slovenly days of Lycurgus, when every one was ashamed to show
clean linen.

"The Mode-makers of the age have taken an antipathy to the
leg; for by their high-topped Shoes, and long trowser-like
Breeches, with a broad knee-band, like a compress for the
Rotula, a leg in high taste is not longer than a Common
Councilman's tobacco-stopper.

"Fine scarlet shag Frocks were becoming, while no persons
appeared in them but real gentlemen; but since tumblers,
strolling-players, and French figure-dancers, dress
themselves in such martial outsides, it is to be presumed,
every one else will quit this very lasting habiliment,
unless he has a mind to pass for one of those exotics
above-mentioned.

"Blue Manchester velvets, with gold cords, or rich
button-holes, are generally the uniform of bum-bailiffs,
slight-of-hand men, and money-droppers. But plain suits
of those cottons, of grave colours, are the dress of
shop-riders, and country traders.

"Walking-sticks are now almost reduced to an useful size.

"Is it not wonderful we should put forth so many paragraphs
concerning female fantasticalness as we are prone to do, and
never consider that our own heads are but mere Piece-brokers'
shops, full of the remnants of fashion. Do not some of us
strut about with walking-sticks as long as leaping-poles,
as if we were pioneers to the troop of Hickerry-cutters;
or else with a yard of varnished cane, scraped taper, and
bound at one end with wax-thread, and the other tipt with
a neat-turned ivory head, as big as a silver penny, which
switch we hug under our arms so jemmy?--Could our forefathers
be such fools? Like enough, faith; and as we are but twigs of
the same trunks, we scorn to degenerate from our ancestors.

"Surtouts now have four laps on each side, which are called
Dog's-ears; when these pieces are unbuttoned, they flap
backwards and forwards, like so many supernumerary patches,
just tacked on at one end; and the wearer seems to have
been playing many bouts at back-sword, till his Coat is
cut to pieces. When they are buttoned up, they appear like
comb-cases, or pacquets for a penny-postman to sort his
letters in. Very spruce smarts have no buttons nor holes
upon the breast of these their Surtouts, save what are upon
the ears; and their garments only wrap over their breasts,
like a Morning Gown--a proof, that dress may be made too
fashionable to be useful.

"How far several sorts of people dress above themselves, and
'wear the cost of Princes on unworthy shoulders,' is not in
the compass of our plan to examine; but we must beg leave to
observe, that propriety in dress is an indication to a fine
understanding; and those persons are blessed with the nicest
tastes who never sacrifice sense to show, or derogate from
that great rule of right, the Golden Mean."

The Countess Dowager of Effingham was robbed of the Robes which she
wore at the Coronation, and other dresses; and thus described them in
an advertisement: "Coronation Robes with a silver tissue Petticoat,
the gold trimmings to the Petticoat, and the tassels, &c. to the Robe
taken off, and put into papers; a scarlet-flowered damask Mantua
Petticoat, very richly embroidered with silver; an uncut red-flowered
velvet Mantua Petticoat, trimmed with silver flounces of net with
silver tassels; a very rich blue and silver Mantua Petticoat, with a
figured ground; a Mantua Petticoat white and gold, with figured ground;
a white satin Gown and Petticoat; a brown satin Sack richly brocaded
with silver; a new satin Sack and Petticoat, white satin ground
brocaded with yellow; a scarlet unwatered tabby Sack and Petticoat; a
white tissue flowered Sack and Petticoat; a white and silver Sack; a
red satin Fly Petticoat, with a broad silver orrice at the bottom; a
quilted red silk Petticoat; and a blue and gold Turkey silk Sack and
Petticoat."

A person whose name is not mentioned, influenced by the same cause
as the Countess, described clothes as follows: "A brocaded lustring
Sack with a ruby-coloured ground and white tobine stripes trimmed with
_floss_; a _black_ satin Sack flowered with _red_ and _white flowers_
trimmed with _white_ floss; a pink and white striped tobine Sack and
Petticoat trimmed with white floss; and a garnet-coloured lustring
Night-gown, with a tobine stripe of green and white, trimmed with floss
of the same colour, and lined with straw-coloured lustring."

Such were the gawdy fashions of our dames _circa_ 1763. Are we not
improved in our taste, good reader?

The rational change adopted soon after of wearing the natural Hair
instead of Wigs produced the following petition, which is worth
recording, as it marks an æra in an essential turn of public opinion. A
Wig is necessary to him whose hair falls from the head; but that young
persons should shave off their own locks, and adopt those of others,
seems so absurd, that we wonder at the folly of the practice.

"To the KING'S Most Excellent MAJESTY.

"The Petition of the Master Peruke-makers of
the Cities of London and Westminster, on behalf
of themselves and the whole of their distressed
Brethren of the Trade in Great Britain,

"Most humbly sheweth,

"That your Petitioners feel the utmost reluctance to prefer
complaints to your Majesty. But the great distresses which
they already labour under, and the expectation and even
certainty of the continual increase of them unless timely
averted, compels them to cast themselves at your Majesty's
feet, and humbly implore your gracious attention to their
sufferings:

"That themselves, and the several manufacturers depending
on them, such as hair-manufacturers, ribbon-weavers,
cawl-makers, &c. do amount to such a number, that they fear
they should not be credited if they were to give a modest
estimate of it; for they conceive the thousands thus employed
are little if at all inferior to what can be boasted by any
one manufactory in your Majesty's dominions:

"That out of this number of your Majesty's most loyal and
dutiful subjects, there is a multitude already actually
reduced to the want of the common necessaries of life; and
that the whole body must seek subsistence in some different
employ, at the risque of perishing miserably by a failure
in the attempt, unless some means can be speedily found to
support their falling trade, fatally wounded by the present
mode of fashion which so generally prevails, of men in almost
all stations wearing their own hair:

"That this mode, pernicious enough in itself to their
trade, is rendered excessively more so by swarms of French
hair-dressers already in these Cities, and daily increasing,
who by artifice more than merit, as your Petitioners humbly
presume, and by that facility with which your Majesty's
British subjects are too much inclined to prefer French
skill and taste in every article of dress (by which the most
considerable manufactories in these kingdoms, as well as
those of your Petitioners, do greatly suffer), find means to
get employment, to the privation of that pittance to your
Majesty's natural subjects which the fashion itself would
still leave in their power to obtain:

"That, by the present fashion, your Petitioners are compelled
to a breach of the command of God and man, and a course of
disobedience to your Majesty's proclamation, wisely intended
for the benefit of all your Majesty's subjects; for the
Lord's day, designed for their instruction and confirmation
in the principles of virtue and piety, is to such of your
Petitioners as can yet find employment, the day, of all
others, on which they are most hurried and confused; and a
refusal to comply with any order from their employers on
that day amounts to a resolution of starving at once. This
is a hardship of so peculiar a nature, that your Petitioners
humbly conceive no considerable body of your Majesty's
subjects labour under it in any manner proportionally as
they do. May they be permitted to say, that they tremble
for themselves and their children, lest by this unavoidable
absence from the sacred duties of that day, and the
misemployment of it entirely to worldly pursuits, they become
as those that knew not God, while their fellow-subjects
are happy in the inestimable privilege of attending and
discharging their religious duties, and imbibing continually
the precepts that teach to bear a conscience void of offence,
to fear God, and honour the King?

"Pressed by the weight of these sufferings; feeling their
trade failing under them; sensible of the impending ruin
of the several manufactories dependent on them, beholding
great and daily increasing numbers of their journeymen
in a starving and despairing condition; beholding also
the subjects of France feeding on the only fragments they
might hope to subsist on; and urged by every consideration
interesting to human nature; your Petitioners have at last
ventured on an application to the only earthly power able
to save them from the torrent which is bearing them down to
destruction. Their hearts prompt them to believe, that to
know and to relieve the distresses of your subjects, is the
same thing with your Majesty; in which sentiment they are
fully confirmed by many Royal Acts since the commencement of
your reign, and by none more than that which rescued the poor
from the scourge of the oppressors, by reducing the price
of provisions. Your Petitioners feel this effect of Royal
paternal care, and gratefully bless the protecting hand.

"Your Petitioners therefore, with submissive hope
and dutiful resignation, leave to your Majesty's
consideration the merits of their Petition; and
whether your Majesty's gracious condescension,
by example and countenance, is not the only
means whereby unimagined numbers can possibly be
saved from the deepest misery; humbly praying
such commiseration and relief in their present
deplorable situation as to your Majesty shall seem
meet. And they shall ever pray, &c.

"The above Petition was presented to his Majesty on Monday
last; to which he was most graciously pleased to return the
following answer: 'That he held nothing dearer to his heart
than the happiness of his people; and that they may be
assured, he should at all times use his endeavours to promote
their real welfare[353:A].'"

The Ladies Head-dress in 1765 is said to have exactly resembled that of
Mary Queen of Scots as represented in her portraits.

Court Mournings were continued for a most unreasonable length of time
previous to 1768, and became very prejudicial to the Manufacturer
and Retailer; but remonstrances from the City of London procured the
ensuing notice, which was inserted in the Gazette:

"His Majesty, in compassion to such manufacturers and people
in trade as by the length of Court Mournings are, in this
time of general scarcity and dearness of provisions, deprived
in a great measure of the means of getting bread, hath been
pleased to give directions for shortening all such mournings
for the future: and the Lord Chamberlain's orders for Court
Mournings will be issued hereafter conformably thereto.

HERTFORD."

The subject of Dress is now nearly exhausted; but I cannot part with
the Follies of thirty years without permitting an observer to speak of
one of them:

"Among the many enormous exuberances of modern dress, I believe there
is one lately sprung up which you may not have noticed. You will
perhaps be surprized when I tell you it is the _Cork-rump_. To explain
this technical term, you are to know that the ladies have thought it
conducive to elegance to make an addition to the hinder-part of their
dress, by sewing several large pieces of cork under the straps of their
stays, in order that, by the protuberance of this new additional rump,
their waist may seem the smaller and the more delicate."

Some of the then and subsequent exuberances shall now be brought to
recollection. And first, the Head--this we have seen covered with
a _Cushion_, as it was termed, generally formed of horse-hair, and
something like a porter's knot set upon the ends; over this the hair
was combed strait, the sides curled, and the back turned up, and the
whole powdered; diminutive Caps of gauze, adorned with ribands, and
miniature Hats, generally of black silk trimmed, were _stuck_ on the
tower of hair with long pins. The Waist was covered by a long-bodied
Gown, drawn exceedingly close over stays laced still closer; the Hips
sometimes supported a Bell Hoop; the Shoulders alternately small Cloaks
and Cardinals, the former of muslin and silk, and the latter almost
always of black silk richly laced.

This description of Female dress altered by _degrees_ to the present
fashion: the Head insensibly lowered; the horse-hair gave place to
large natural curls spread over the face and ears; the Cap enlarged
to an enormous size, and the Bonnet swelled in proportion; Hoops were
entirely discontinued, except at Court; silks became unfashionable,
and printed calicoes and the finest white muslins were substituted,
and still hold their influence. The Ladies have at length, much to
their honour, thrown aside those hateful attempts to supply Nature's
deficiencies or omissions, the false breasts, pads, and bottoms; and
now appear in that native grace and proportion which distinguishes an
English-woman: the Hair, cleansed from all extraneous matter, shines
in beautiful lustre carelessly turned round the head in the manner
adopted by the most eminent Grecian sculptors; and the Form appears
through their snow-white draperies in that fascinating manner which
excludes the least thought of impropriety. Their Hats and Bonnets of
straw, chip, and beaver, are generally well-proportioned and handsome;
and their velvet Pelisses, Shawls, and silk Spencers, are contrived to
improve rather than injure the form.

But in the midst of this praise I must be permitted to make one
observation; and that is, some thoughtless females indulge in the
licence of freedom rather too far, and shew their persons in a manner
offensive to modesty.

The Male dress changed almost insensibly from formality to ease. This
was effected merely by altering the cut of the clothes: the materials
are the same they were an hundred years past; the colours however are
more grave. Deep blue, dark browns, mixtures, and black, are worn
by the sedate and the gay, the young and the old: the former indeed
sometimes appear in Coats _rather large_ for their persons; but they
compensate for this oddity by stretching their Pantaloons almost to
bursting, and wear something _that resembles_ the Waistcoat of a boy
seven years old. The modern Hat is very convenient--a high flat crown
and narrow brim, pressed down before and behind, and turned up at the
sides. Square-toed Shoes have been revived; and half and whole Boots
are, I believe, every thing but slept in. The modern Neckcloth should
not be omitted, especially as it has undergone more ridicule than the
rest of the dress in the aggregate; it is enough to say, the Neckcloth
has been compared _to a towel tied under the chin_.

The Hair was a long time dressed or frizzed high on the head, like
a negro's wool, and perfectly whitened with powder, and alternately
plaited and turned up or queued behind. The Powder-tax occurred, and
thousands of heads became in an instant black and brown; and, as the
Revolution in France _deserved_ imitation, the fierce Republican head
of Brutus stared us full in the front, mounted upon the shoulders of
_Ladies_ and Box-lobby Loungers composed of puppies rather than men.

Since those days of horror Powder again makes its appearance with the
hair cropped close, except above the forehead; there it is turned
erect, in imitation of a--cock's-comb.

And now, Fashion, I bid thee, in perfect good humour, heartily
farewell!

FOOTNOTES:

[323:A] The Bishop of Durham, within his Diocese, has many of the
privileges of a Lay Peer; and Dr. Talbot had then lately succeeded to
that See.

[338:A] See London Chronicle, vol. XI. p. 167, for 1762.

[353:A] London Chronicle, Feb. 14, 1763.

CHAP. IX.

DOMESTIC ARCHITECTURE TRACED FROM ITS ORIGIN TO ITS
PRESENT IMPROVED STATE IN LONDON--LIGHTING AND IMPROVING OF
STREETS--OBSTRUCTIONS IN THEM--ORNAMENTS, &C. &C.

The annual movement of the Sun to the South renders it an indisputable
fact, that the Northern climate of England must have made huts or caves
indispensibly necessary to the inhabitants, at least five months of
each twelve, from the hour that our country was peopled. _Ideas_ are
useless on such a subject; _sensation_ is sufficient; and instinct,
which compels a brute to seek shelter under ground, or in a hollow
tree, from the inclemency of the season, cannot have been so far denied
to the Briton as to lead him to other expedients less calculated to
answer his purpose. I do not hesitate, therefore, to assert that our
Aborigines fortified existence in caverns natural and artificial,
and in huts constructed of branches easily separated from trees, and
covered or thatched with leaves and dried plants; nay, the piling of
flat stones on each other seems an operation so easy and natural, that
I cannot conceive why the art should have been imported; indeed, mortar
is suggested by wet earth or mud dried on river sides by the air;
and who knows but that our mud walls and even mud villages now to be
found in numbers North of London may be the traditionary houses of our
remotest ancestors[359:A]?

After this Island was invaded, the habitations of the various nations
which accomplished the invasions were introduced by imitation, and
copies of Roman, Saxon, Danish, and Norman houses were doubtlessly
common. The Tesselated Pavements and Baths still discovered belong to
the first; but their form can only be supposed, I should imagine, from
the discoveries at Herculaneum.

The Saxons have left us strong and almost eternal proofs of their skill
in masonry; but I believe there is little or nothing to be found, the
work of their hands, besides Ecclesiastical Buildings and Castles. It
is true, the latter were _habitations_, but for the rich and powerful
alone; the dwellings of the mass of the community were too frail to
reach our days.

The Danes appear to have done little more than plunder and destroy. The
Normans, more politic, imitated the Saxons, and left us Churches and
Castellated Mansions; but still we are without domestic architecture.
All these facts tend to prove, that our Cities, and even London,
consisted almost wholly of wooden or framed houses plastered. Why it
was so, is a problem not easily resolved; for, supposing the antient
Briton ignorant of masonry before the country was invaded, the Romans
immediately introduced the cutting and sculpturing of stone, such
cement as we cannot now equal, and the use of bricks. Perhaps, however,
the uncertain tenure of all property discouraged the Farmer and
Citizen from erecting solid mansions; indeed, they were all soldiers
and vassals, and their houses probably were erected by their various
masters at the least possible expence. This argument may apply to the
time anterior to the Norman invasion; but it will not do after London
increased, and the people were made more independent. When property
became secure, the houses were certainly slight and combustible; and
hence the tremendous fires which have been recorded between the time of
William the Conqueror and 1666.

Stone was, I presume, almost exclusively used for Palaces and the
mansions of the richest Citizens; but that is readily accounted for:
Stone requires no great deal of preparation; the facing received the
labours of the Sculptor or Mason, but the monstrous thick wall was
filled with fragments from the chissel, or rough pebbles. Besides,
pillars, mouldings, and fret-work, arose without difficulty from soft
stone. Could those embellishments have been produced in brick without
infinite trouble? and, would they ever have looked well when joined
with mortar? Is it not then plain that the noble ideas of our Princes,
Nobles, and other rich men who lavished vast sums on their structures,
required _Stone_ to embody them; and that, had it been common, Brick
would certainly have been rejected by them? The total disuse of brick
by the rich deprived the less fortunate Citizen of its advantages.
The revival or introduction of any manufacture demands encouragement
from the powerful; if that is withheld, who will attempt them merely
on disinterested motives? Parsimony in the great revived the art of
Brick-making. When a Prince found the price of labour increase, and
wished to build, he first stripped the design of his architect of
ornament: thus stripped, a plain surface might be composed of any hard
substance; Brick naturally occurred, and bricks were made. Still the
mass of the people had them not. The affluent used them both in London
and in the country; but the unhappy publick, fascinated with their
Wood and Plaster, at last saw one fatal flame destroy all their frail
tenements at one blow. The year 1666 expelled wooden buildings from our
Metropolis; and from that year Brick reigned with undiminished sway,
has crept beyond all reasonable limits, and even aspired to compose
Churches and Chapels.

The next object in this difficult article will be the attempt to trace
different æras in Domestic Architecture. Unfortunately the fire alluded
to has nearly deprived us of a possibility of so doing in London: the
most antient specimen there I should suppose to be the _ecclesiastical_
lodgings appendant to Westminster Abbey in Dean's-yard. I confess,
they are not strictly in point; but I have ventured to mention them,
as probably somewhat resembling those of the laity. Their date is
previous to 1386, as Abbot Litlington, who built them, died in that
year. It will be found that the windows are small and pointed: in this
particular they differ from those erected at the same period by Richard
II. adjoining the West side of Westminster-hall. Litlington's lodgings
are of stone; but the latter is of brick, and perhaps one of the oldest
specimens of that material in England, and certainly so in London. Part
of it was recently taken down to widen the street, but enough remains
to convince us œconomy prevailed in a very considerable degree at
the date of its erection. From the time of Richard II. to that of Henry
VIII. brick edifices were erected at intervals. In the reign of Henry
VII. the pointed style became so expensive, through the introduction
of excessive ornament, that its declination might readily be foreseen:
accordingly the rich had recourse to brick; and when Henry VIII.
dissolved religious houses, the pious had no motive to continue the use
of splendid architecture in erecting or supporting Churches and Abbeys.

But I would not be understood to mean that the mansions of men of
fortune were uniformly built of brick after Richard II. had introduced
the use of it in London: there is at least one proof to the contrary
now remaining, in the house of Sir John Crosby, erected soon after
1466. The reader, on referring to a view of that magnificent building
inserted in the third volume of "Londinium Redivivum," p. 565, will
find Sir John to have excelled the Monarch in his ideas of grandeur;
and perceive, besides, that pointed windows with rich mullions were by
no means confined to churches and ecclesiastical lodgings; and the roof
will convince him that pendents pierced and flattened arches were not
first introduced in the reign of Henry VIII.

The old gateway of St. James's Palace is a good specimen of brick
architecture of that reign. Somerset-house, built in the reign of
Edward VI. was an awkward imitation of the Grecian style; and the
intercolumniations in several instances were filled with appropriate
niches: but the remainder of those of the front had the old English
angular window, with mullions of the same figure; the wings were more
correct; that part of the Palace which faced the Thames resembled the
style of St. James's before Inigo Jones altered it[364:A].

If we may credit the date, there is one house in Bishopsgate-street,
almost adjoining St. Botolph's church, coæval with Sir John Crosby's,
which resembles many others known to have been built in far subsequent
periods. Whether the house alluded to of framed wood and plaster is
really of the age mentioned is of little importance; but I think it may
be safely adduced as a probable type of the mansions of tradesmen of
very remote days.

Anderson says, in his History of Commerce, that most of the houses in
London were thatched with straw in 1246; and that chimneys were not
known to the inhabitants of the wooden houses even in 1300. According
to this gentleman, they sat round stoves in the midst of smoke, which I
suppose he intends to infer escaped through the doors and windows. The
assertion that chimneys were _not known_ at that period is confuted by
every old Castle in the kingdom. How the poorest classes fared in this
particular, is another consideration.

[Illustration: _The Palace at Croydon_]

[Illustration: _Brick gate, near Bromley_]

There were numbers of private mansions erected in the reigns of Edward,
Mary, Elizabeth, and James I.; most of which were of brick with stone
quoins, ornaments, and window frames; for instance, Holland and Camden
houses, Wyer-hall, the Middle Temple-hall, &c. &c. The windows of
those were almost invariably angular and mullioned, and the ornaments
resembled the Grecian rather than any other style. The reign of Charles
I. was too unfavourable for general safety to admit the erection of
many houses; but Inigo Jones appears to have improved the British
imitation of the Grecian style almost to perfection. This architect, by
elevating his cielings and altering the shape of windows, removed that
darkness and gloom which belonged to the preceding æra.

Sir Christopher Wren completed the work commenced by Jones, and
established the present favourite fashion of building; the gradations
of which from splendour to extreme plainness are faithfully delineated
in the prints which accompany this Volume. The examiner of those
will find that our nobility and other rich persons can accommodate
themselves to a house calculated for a man worth less than 200_l.
per annum_, or occupy others of five times the dimensions.

We will now return to the more humble classes, and begin with some of
the instances spared us by the fire of 1666. To describe those would be
useless; prints are superior to the best description: the reader will
have the goodness to consult them, and he will find old streets with
the _projecting_ houses, and single old houses, and one or two sketches
from the country to shew the Citizens' place of retirement[366:A].

Sir William Davenant drew a ludicrous yet true picture of antient
London, which follows, and may be perused with double interest after
a survey of the above old streets and houses, and their improved
successors.

[Illustration: _The S. E. corner of Guildhall_]

[Illustration: Two buildings side by side

Building on left: _Erected in or before the reign of Queen Eliz._

_In Goswell street_

_Antient inconvenience contrasted with modern convenience_

Building on right: _Erected about 1800_]

[Illustration: _The old Magazine Hyde Park_]

[Illustration: _The entrance of great Portland-street_]

[Illustration: _Part of the Priory of the Holy Trinity Aldgate_]

[Illustration: _West end of Upper Grosvenor-street_]

[Illustration: _Meux's Brewhouse built about 1796_]

[Illustration: _Devonshire House_]

[Illustration: _The west end of Upper Brook street_]

[Illustration: _View in Privy garden_]

[Illustration: _In Hanover Square_]

[Illustration: _Mansion at Twickenham_]

[Illustration: _The East side of Fitzroy Square_]

[Illustration: _The late Lord Barrymores house Piccadilly_]

[Illustration: _Langley House_]

[Illustration: _The west side of Cavendish square_]

[Illustration: _The south side of Fitzroy Square_]

[Illustration: _Entrance to Hyde Park from Park Lane_]

[Illustration: _The Duke of Manchester's_]

[Illustration: _The Minced Pie house_]

"You of this noble City are yet to become more noble by your candour
to the plea between me a _Bourgeois_ of Paris, and my opponent of
London; being concerned in honour to lend your attention as favourably
to a stranger as to your native orator, since it is the greatest sign
of narrow education to permit the borders of rivers, or strands of
seas, to separate the general consanguinity of Mankind, though the
unquiet nature of Man (still hoping to shake off distant power), and
the incapacity of any one to sway universal empire, hath made them the
bounds to divide government. But already I think it necessary to cease
persuading you, who will ever deserve to be my judges; and, therefore,
mean to apply myself in admonishing him who is pleased to be awhile my
adversary.

"My most opinionated antagonist (for a Londoner's opinion of himself is
no less noted than his opinion of his Beef before the Veal of Italy),
you should know that the merit of Cities consists not in their fair
and fruitful situation, but in the manners of the Inhabitants; for,
where the situation excels, it but upbraids their minds if they be not
proportionable to it. And, because we should more except against the
constancy of minds than their mutability, when they incline to error,
I will first take a survey of yours in the long-continued deformity of
the _shape_ of your City, which is of your buildings.

"Sure your ancestors contrived your narrow streets in the days of
wheel-barrows, before those greater engines _Carts_ were invented. Is
your climate so _hot_, that as you walk you need umbrellas of tiles
to intercept the Sun? Or, are your shambles so empty, that you are
afraid to take in fresh air, lest it should sharpen your stomachs?
Oh, the _goodly_ Landscape of _Old Fish-street_! which, had it not
had the ill-luck to be crooked, was narrow enough to have been your
founder's perspective; and where the garrets (perhaps not for want of
architecture, but, through _abundance of amity_) are so made, that
opposite neighbours may shake hands without stirring from home. Is
unanimity of inhabitants in wise Cities better expressed, than by their
coherence and uniformity of building, where streets begin, continue,
and end in a like stature and shape? But yours (as if they were raised
in a general insurrection, _where every man hath a several design_)
differ in all things that can make distinction. Here stands one that
aims to be a _Palace_, and, next it, another that professes to be a
_Hovel_. Here a Giant, there a Dwarf; here slender, there broad; and
all most admirably different in their faces, as well as in their height
and bulk. I was about to defy any Londoner, who dares pretend there is
so much ingenious correspondence in this City, as that he can shew me
one house like another. Yet your old houses seem to be reverend and
formal, being compared to the fantastical works of the moderns; which
have more ovals, niches, and angles, than are in your custards, and
are enclosed with pasteboard walls, like those of malicious Turks,
who, because themselves are not immortal, and cannot ever dwell where
they build, therefore will not be at the charge to provide such
lastingness as may entertain their children out of the rain; so slight
and so prettily gaudy, that if they could move, they would pass for
pageants. It is your custom, where men vary often the mode of their
habits, to term the nation fantastical; but, where streets continually
change fashion, you should make haste to chain up the City; for it is
certainly mad.

"You would think me a malicious traveller, if I should still gaze on
your mis-shapen Streets, and take no notice of the beauty of your
River; therefore I will pass the importunate noise of your Watermen
(who snatch at fares as if they were to catch prisoners, plying the
gentry so uncivilly, as if they had never rowed any other passengers
but Bear-wards), and now step into one of your pease-cod Boats, whose
tilts are not so sumptuous as the roofs of Gondalo's, nor, when you
are within, are you at the ease of _Chaise-a-bras_. The community and
trade of your River belongs to yourselves; but give a Stranger leave
to share in the pleasure of it; which will hardly be in the prospect
or freedom of air, unless prospect consisting of variety be made with
here a Palace, there a wood-yard, here a garden, there a brew-house.
Here dwells a Lord, there a Dyer, and between both _Duomo Commune_.
If freedom of air be inferred in the liberty of the subject, where
every private man hath authority, for his own profit, to smoke up
a Magistrate; then the air of your Thames is open enough, because
it is equally free. I will forbear to visit your courtly neighbours
at Wapping; not that it will make me giddy to shoot your Bridge,
but that I am loth to disturb the _civil silence_ of Billingsgate,
which is so great as if the Mariners were always landing to storm the
Harbour; therefore, for brevity's sake, I will put to shore again,
though I should be constrained, even without my Goloshoes, to land at
Puddle-dock.

"I am now returned to visit your Houses, where the roofs (cielings) are
so low, that I presume your ancestors were very mannerly, and stood
bare to their wives (for I cannot discern how they could wear their
high-crowned hats). Yet will I enter; and therefore oblige you much,
when you know my aversion to the odour of a certain weed (Tobacco)
that governs amongst your coarser acquaintance, as much as Lavender
amongst your linen, to which, in my apprehension, your Sea-coal smoke
seems a very Portugal perfume. I should here hasten to a period, for
fear of suffocation, if I thought you so ungracious to use it in public
assemblies; and yet I see it grow so much in fashion, that methinks
your children begin to play with broken pipes, instead of corals, to
make way for their teeth. You will find my visit short; I cannot stay
to eat with you, because your bread is too heavy, and you disdain the
slight sustenance of herbs: your drink is too thick, and yet you are
seldom over-curious in washing your glasses. Nor will I lodge with
you, because your beds seem, to our alcoves, no bigger than coffins;
and your curtains so short, as they will hardly serve to inclose your
Carriers in Summer; and may be held, if Taffata, to have lined your
Grandsires shirts. But though your houses are thin, yet your kitchens
are well lined with beef; and the plentiful exercise of your chimneys
makes up that canopy of smoke which covers your City; whilst we on the
Continent are well contented with a clear sky, entertain flesh as a
regale; and we, your poor French frogs, are fain to sing to sallad.
You boast that your servants feed better than masters at Paris; and we
are satisfied when ours are better taught than fed. You allow yours
idleness and high nourishment, to raise their mettle; which is, to make
them rude for the honour of Old-England; we inure ours to labour and
temperance, that we may allay them; which is to make them civil for the
quiet of France. Yours drink malt, and the strong broth of malt, which
makes them bold, hot, and adventurous to be soon in command: ours are
cooled with weak water, which doth quench their arrogance, and makes
them fit to obey long. We plant the Vineyard, and you drink the Wine;
by which you beget good spirits, and we get good money. You keep open
houses for all that bring you in mirth, till your estate run out of
doors, and find new landlords: we shut our gate to all but such whose
conversation brings in profit; and so, by the help of what you call
ill-nature and parsimony, have the good luck to keep our inheritance
for our issue.

"Before I leave you in your Houses (where your estates are managed by
your servants, and your persons educated by your Wives), I will take
a short survey of your Children: to whom you are so terrible, that
you seem to make use of authority whilst they are young, as if you
knew it would not continue till their manhood: you begin with them
in such rough discipline, as if they were born mad, and you meant to
fright them into their wits again before they had any to lose. When
they increase in years, you make them strangers; keeping them at such
distance, out of jealousy they should presume to be your companions,
that, when they reach manhood, they use you as if they were none of
your acquaintance. If you take pains to teach them any thing, it is
only what they should not learn, bashfulness; which you interpret to
be their respect to you, but it rather shews they are in trouble,
and afraid of you; and not only of you, but all that are older than
themselves; as if youth were a crime, or as if you had a greater
quarrel to Nature than to the Devil. You seem to teach them to be
ashamed of their persons, even when you are willing to excuse their
faults. This education you give them at home; but though you have
frequently the pride to disdain the behaviour of other nations, yet you
have sometimes the discretion to send your sons abroad to learn it. To
Paris they come, the school of Europe; where is taught the approaches
and demeanours towards power; where they may learn honour, which is
the generous honesty, which is the civil boldness of courts. But there
they arrive not to converse with us, but themselves; to see the gates
of the Court, not to enter and frequent it; or to take a hasty survey
of greatness as far as envy, but not to study it as far as imitation;
at last return home, despising those necessary virtues which they took
not pains to acquire; and are only ill-altered in their dress and mind,
by making that a deformity in seeming over-careful and forced, which we
make graceful in being negligent and easy. I have now left your Houses,
and am passing through your Streets; but not in a Coach, for they are
uneasily hung, and so narrow that I took them for a Sedan upon wheels:
nor is it safe for a stranger to use them, till the quarrel be decided,
whether six of your nobles, sitting together, shall stop, and give
place to as many barrels of beer. Your City is the only Metropolis of
Europe where there is a wonderful dignity belonging to Carts. Master
Londoner, be not so hot against Coaches: take advice from one who
eats much sorrel in his broth. Can you be too civil to such gentry as
bravely scorn to be provident?--who, when they have no business here to
employ them, nor public pleasures to divert them, yet even then kindly
invent occasions to bring them hither, that at your own rates they may
change their land for our wares, and have purposely avoided the coarse
study of arithmetick, lest they should be able to affront you with
examining your accompts.

"I wonder at your riches, when I see you drink in a morning; but more
at your confidence, when I see gray-beards come out of a tavern, and
stay at the door to make the last debate of their business; and I am
yet more amazed at your health, when I taste your wine; but most of all
at your politicks, in permitting such public poisoning, under the style
of free mystery, to encourage trade and diligence.

"I would now make a safe retreat, but that methinks I am stopped by
one of your heroic games, called _Foot-ball_; which I conceive (under
your favour) not very conveniently civil in the streets, especially
in such irregular and narrow roads as _Crooked-lane_. Yet it argues
your courage much like your military pastime of Throwing at Cocks. But
your mettle would be more magnified (since you have long allowed those
valiant exercises in the street) to draw your Archers from Finsbury,
and, during high market, let them shoot at butts in Cheapside. I
have now no more to say but what refers to a few private notes,
which I shall give you in a whisper when we meet in Moorfields; from
whence (because the place was for public pleasure, and to shew the
magnificence of your City) I shall desire you to banish the laundresses
and bleachers, whose acres of old linen make a show like the fields of
Carthagena, when the five months' shifts of the whole fleet are washed
and spread."

The following letter from the celebrated Erasmus to Dr. Francis,
Physician to Cardinal Wolsey, will afford a disgusting view of the
interior of common dwellings in the reign of Henry VIII.:

"I often wonder, and not without concern, whence it comes to pass,
that England for so many years hath been continually afflicted with
pestilence; and above all with the sweating-sickness, which seems in a
manner peculiar to that country. We read of a City which was delivered
from a plague of long continuance, by altering the buildings according
to the advice of a certain philosopher. I am much mistaken, if England,
by the same method, might not find a cure. First of all, they are
totally regardless concerning the aspect of their doors and windows to
the East, North, &c. Then they build their chambers so that they admit
not a thorough air, which yet, in Galen's opinion, is very necessary.
They glaze a great part of the sides with small panes, designed to
admit the light and exclude the wind; but these windows are full of
chinks, through which enters a percolated air, which, stagnating in the
room, is more noxious than the wind.

"As to the floors, _they are usually made of clay, covered with rushes_
that grew in fens, which are so slightly removed now and then, that
the lower part remains _sometimes for twenty years together_, and in
it a collection of spittle, vomit, urine of dogs and men, beer, scraps
of fish, and other filthiness not to be named. Hence, upon change of
weather, a vapour is exhaled, very pernicious, in my opinion, to the
human body. Add to this, that England is not only surrounded with the
sea, but in many parts is fenny, and intersected with streams of a
brackish water; and that salt fish is the common and the favourite
food of the poor. I am persuaded that the Island would be far more
healthy, if the use of these rushes were quite laid aside, and the
chambers so built as to let in the air on two or three sides, with
such glass windows as might be either thrown quite open, or kept
quite shut, without small crannies to let in the wind. For, as it is
useful sometimes to admit a free air, so is it sometimes to exclude
it. The common people laugh at a man who complains that he is affected
by changeable and cloudy weather; but, for my part, for these thirty
years past, if I ever entered into a room which had been uninhabited
for some months, immediately I grew feverish. It would also be of
great benefit, if the lower people could be persuaded to eat less of
their salt fish; and if public officers were appointed to see that the
streets were kept free from mud and ----, and that not only in the City,
but in the Suburbs. You will smile, perhaps, and think that my time
lies upon my hands, since I employ it in such speculations; but I have
a great affection for a country which received me so hospitably for a
considerable time, and I shall be glad to end the remainder of my days
in it if it be possible. Though I know you to be better skilled in
these things than I pretend to be, yet I could not forbear from giving
you my thoughts, that, if we are both of a mind, you may propose the
project to men in authority; since even Princes have not thought such
regulations to be beneath their inspection."

The tyrant who then reigned could not plead ignorance of the causes
which almost depopulated London. A physician cannot offend when he
talks of health to his patron. Wolsey must have heard the above truths
repeated by Francis, and the _name_ of Erasmus must have enforced his
arguments: the haughty Cardinal accomplished far more unworthy objects
with his master than a consideration of the health of his people would
have been; therefore each were criminal in not doing that for the
benefit of the publick which a nod from absolute power could effect.
A despicable disregard of decency evidently prevailed in the royal
breasts of the Monarchs who reigned between the Conquest and the great
Fire; the plague, the leprosy, and the sweating-sickness, reigned with
them; filth in the dark confined streets, and filth in every house,
made infection eternal; and yet not one step appears to have been taken
in obedience to instinct--Instinct makes a man inimical to dirt.

Heaven be praised, old London _was burnt_. Good reader, turn to
the views, in order to see what it has been; observe those hovels
convulsed; imagine the chambers within them, and wonder why the plague,
the leprosy, and the sweating-sickness, raged. Turn then to the prints
illustrative of our present dwellings, and be happy.

The misery of 1665 must have operated on the minds of the Legislature
and the Citizens, when they rebuilt and inhabited their houses. The
former enacted many salutary clauses for the preservation of health,
and would have done more, had not the publick rejected that which was
for their benefit; those who preferred high habitations and narrow dark
streets had them. It is only to be lamented, that we are compelled
to suffer for their folly. These errors are now frequently partially
removed by the exertion of the Corporation of London; but a complete
reformation is impossible.

It is a fallacy to say that the New River now exclusively _prevents_
infectious disorders by the distribution of its water through the
City, as it is well known to have been introduced to the houses very
many years before 1665. It is to the improved dwellings composed of
brick, the wainscot or papered walls, the high cielings, the boarded
floors, and large windows, and cleanliness, that we are indebted for
the general preservation of health since 1666. From that auspicious
year the very existence of the natives of London improved; their bodies
moved in a large space of pure air; and, finding every thing clean and
new around them, they determined to keep them so. Previously-unknown
luxuries and improvements in furniture were suggested; and a man of
moderate fortune saw his house vie with, nay superior to, the old
palaces of his governors. When he paced his streets, he felt the
genial Western breeze pass him, rich with the perfumes of the country,
instead of the stench described by Erasmus; and looking upward, he
beheld the beautiful blue of the air, variegated with fleecy clouds,
in place of projecting black beams and plaster, obscured by vapour
and smoke. But there were other blessings, which he thought not of,
that are attained by his successors; and those I shall proceed to
describe chronologically, after introducing the assertions of M. de
Grosley on the state of London with respect to Cleanliness _circa_
1750. That gentleman observes, in his Tour to London, that "the plate,
hearth-stones (generally marble), moveables, apartments, doors, stairs,
the very street-doors, their locks, and the large brass knockers
(almost exclusively iron at present), are every day washed, scowered,
or rubbed. Even in lodging-houses, the middle of the stairs is often
covered with carpeting, to prevent them from being soiled. All the
apartments in the house have mats or carpets; and the use of them has
been adopted some years since by the French."

The streets of London must have been dangerously dark during the winter
nights before it was burnt: lanterns with candles were very sparingly
scattered, nor was light much better distributed even in the new
streets previous to the last century.

Globular lamps were introduced by Michael Cole, who obtained a patent
July 1708; a copy of the docquet for which follows: "A grant unto
Michael Cole, gent. of the sole use and benefit in England and Ireland
of his invention of a _new kind of Light_, composed of one entire glass
of a globular shape, with a lamp, which will give a clearer and more
certain light from all parts thereof, without any dark shadows or what
else may be confounding or troublesome to the sight, than any other
Lamps that have hitherto been in use: To hold to the said Michael Cole,
his executors, administrators, and assigns, during the term of fourteen
years; with a proviso, that the said invention shall not before the
determination of the term of twenty-one years (which commenced June
24, 1694) be used within the City of London, or the liberties thereof,
to the prejudice of the proprietors of the public glass lights called
_Convex lights, now used_ in the said City and liberties thereof; and
such other provisos, prohibitions, and clauses are inserted, as were
directed by warrant under her Majesty's Royal sign manual. Subscribed
by Mr. Solicitor General.

"JOHN WOODESON,
_Dep. to Sir_ GEORGE PIERS, _Bart._"

Cole first exhibited his Globe Lamp at the door of the St. James's
Coffee-house in 1709, and attended there to answer queries relating to
it. He afterwards offered to dispose of his patent for the benefit of
this Kingdom, as he resided in Ireland.

The ensuing report was made September 17, 1736, by Alderman Alsop
and Godschall, and eight Common Council-men, appointed a Committee
to consider in what manner the Act of Parliament "for the better
enlightening the streets of London" might be put in execution.

"There were 1287 houses under the rent of 10_l. per annum_; 4741
of 10_l._ and under 20_l._; 3045 of 20_l._ and under 30_l._; 1849
of 30_l._ and under 40_l._; and 3092 of 40_l._ and upwards. In all
14,014 houses, then inhabited and chargeable; which were about 400
less than the Committee imagined. The number of lamps required was
4200, exclusive of those wanted for public buildings and void places,
fixed at twenty-five yards distance on each side of the way in the high
streets, and at thirty-five in lesser streets, lanes, &c. The several
Wards of the City agreed for the lighting them at an average of 41_s.
per annum per_ lamp, at which rate the expence of the 4200 amounted
to 8610_l._ The fixing of those on posts and irons, averaged at 14_s._
6_d._ each, 3045_l._; total expence 5628_l._ The rates to supply
which sum were fixed as follows: Houses under 10_l._--3_s._ 6_d.
per annum_; under 20_l._--7_s._ 6_d._; under 30_l._--8_s._; under
40_l._--9_s._ 6_d._; upwards of 40_l._--12_s._"

The above particulars will be sufficient to explain the manner in which
London and Westminster is now lighted. The only variety that has since
occurred is, the converting of the shape of the lamps from a globular
form to that of a bell, and affixing them to the iron railing of the
area and houses. Several attempts to introduce strong reflectors have
failed, as it has been uniformly found that they injure and confuse the
sight.

The shop-keepers of London are of infinite service to the rest of the
inhabitants by their liberal use of the Patent Lamp, to shew their
commodities during the long evenings of winter. The parish lamps
glimmer above them, and are hardly distinguishable before ten o'clock.

The first essential improvement of London, after the re-building of
the City, was the filling of Fleet-ditch, and forming the streets
where the market is situated; and the next, the continuation of the
plan to Blackfriars-bridge. The latter was suggested by the success of
Westminster-bridge; and the removal of the houses and widening of the
arches of London-bridge proceeded from perceiving the neat appearance
and superior accommodations of the new ones.

The following is a list of "Openings to be made in the City of London,
pursuant to an Act of Parliament" passed in the Session of 1760.

"In Aldersgate Ward. A passage twenty feet wide, from the
East side of Aldersgate-street (opposite to Little Britain)
to the West of Noble-street, opposite to Oat-lane; and
through Wood-street, opposite to Love-lane.

In Aldgate Ward. A passage fifty feet wide, from the Mason's
shop facing Crutched-friars, in a direct line to the Minories.

A passage, twenty-five feet wide, through
Northumberland-alley, into Crutched-friars.

In Bishopsgate Ward. A passage, twenty-five feet wide,
through Angel-court, in Bishopsgate-street, into Little St.
Helen's.

A passage, twenty feet wide, from Broad-street, through
Union-court, into Bishopsgate-street.

In Coleman-street Ward. A passage, fifty feet wide, from
Tokenhouse-yard to London-wall.

In Farringdon Ward Within. A passage through Cock-alley, on
Ludgate-hill, opposite to the Old Bailey, forty feet wide,
into Blackfriars.

A passage, twenty-five feet wide, from Butcher-hall-lane,
into Little-Britain.

In Farringdon Ward Without. A passage, thirty feet wide, in
the middle of Snow-hill, to the Fleet-market.

_The following passages are to be improved and enlarged._

In Aldgate Ward. The East side of Billiter-lane, to enlarge
the passage thirty feet.

The East end of Leadenhall-street, to be thirty-five feet
wide.

Part of the houses on the East side of Poor Jewry-lane,
beginning at the North side of the Horse and Trumpet, and
extending to Gould-square, to range in a line with that
end of the lane next to Aldgate; the passage to be made
thirty-five feet wide.

In Broad-street Ward. The House to be pulled down at
the West end of the buildings between Cornhill and
Threadneedle-street, opposite to the South end of
Princes-street, and the ground laid into the street.

Houses to be pulled down on the South side of
Threadneedle-street, extending from the house
before-mentioned Eastward, till that part of the street
opposite to the Bank gates; and the passage there enlarged to
thirty-five feet in width.

Coleman-street Ward. One house on the N. E. corner of
the Old Jewry, and another house at the S. W. corner of
Coleman-street, and the ground laid into the street.

Cordwainers' Ward. The house at the N. E. corner of
Trinity-lane, near the Dog Tavern, and the ground laid into
the street.

In Cornhill Ward. The house at the West end of the buildings
between Cornhill and Lombard-street, and the ground laid into
the street.

In Cripplegate Ward Within. The houses which project
forwards at the West end of Silver-street, from the end of
Monkwell-street, quite through into Aldersgate-street, to
make a street forty feet wide.

The house at the corner of Aldermanbury, facing Milk-street,
and the ground laid into the street.

In Farringdon Ward Within. The Tin-shop and the Trunk-maker's
house, at the S. W. corner of Cheapside, leading into St.
Paul's Church-yard, and the ground laid into the street.

Such part of the houses in Creed-lane as are necessary to
widen the passage to thirty feet.

In Farringdon Ward Without. All the houses in Middle-row
between the paved alley, adjoining to St. Sepulchre's church
and Giltspur-street, from the North end quite through to the
South end, facing Hart-street, and the ground laid into the
street.

All the houses in Middle-row, between the Great and Little
Old Bailey, from the North end facing Hart-street, to the
Baptist's Head at the South end, facing the Great Old Bailey,
and the ground laid into the street.

The shops under St. Dunstan's church in Fleet-street, and the
ground laid into the street.

In Langbourn Ward. Such part of the houses at the end of
Mark-lane, next to Fenchurch-street, as will make the passage
there thirty feet wide.

Such part of the houses at the East end of Lombard-street, as
will make the passage there thirty feet wide.

In Portsoken Ward. The house at the N. E. corner of
Houndsditch, adjoining to the church-yard, and the ground
laid into the street.

In Tower Ward. Such part of the houses on St. Dunstan's-hill,
adjoining to the George Alehouse, and opposite to the Chain,
and such part of the warehouses opposite to the end of St.
Dunstan's Church, as will make the passage thirty feet wide.

The house on the N. W. corner of Great Tower-street, and
also the house on the S. E. corner of Little Tower-street,
occupied by Messrs. Julon and Lidner, to make a convenient
passage.

The house in Mark-lane which adjoins to All-hallows Staining,
and projects twelve feet before the other houses, to make
it range in a line with the other houses, and enlarge the
passage.

In Vintry Ward. The houses on the North side of Thames-street
which reach from Elbow-lane to College-hill, and also those
on the South side of the said street which reach from
Vintner's-hall to Bull-wharf-lane, in order to make the
street forty feet wide.

The house at the corner of Tower-royal, facing College-hill,
to be pulled down, and the ground laid into the street.

In Walbrook Ward. The house at the N. E. corner of
Bucklersbury, which projects before the other buildings.

In Bishopsgate Ward. The two houses between New Broad-street
and New Broad-street-buildings."

The removal of all the City Gates promoted a better circulation of air;
and London Wall gave place near Moorgate to a fine new street.

It has ever been the practice of the London builders to erect houses
at the least possible expence, because their tenures are almost
exclusively leasehold. Hence it is that the Editors of the Newspapers
of the last century were compelled from time to time to notice the
horrid effects produced by the fall of those frail buildings. I am
fully convinced, that not less than one hundred lives have been lost
in this way between 1700 and 1807; and that at least three times as
many persons were maimed. The publick justly condemned the supineness
of their officials in not preventing occurrences of this description;
and the compilers of the London Chronicle say in October 1760, "In one
of the morning papers is a complaint of the present method of letting
leases of the City Lands, and other estates of public bodies. It is
not sufficient to build Bridges; it is not enough to widen and improve
Streets and Passages: no, we should examine farther. Consider what the
Houses are: they are all superannuated; the City is worn out; the major
part of the houses have stood much longer than they should, _many years
longer than they were built for_; and, instead of being rebuilt as the
leases expire, or any thing done to aggrandise and render the City
conspicuous, equal to the other improvements, they are advertised again
on repairing leases, and are so shamefully propped up from time to time
that the City must come to decay: nay, it will be even hazardous to
walk the streets."

Though the latter assertion rather exceeds the truth, it will
be recollected that Houghton-street Clare-market, Wapping, the
neighbourhood of Bishopsgate-street, and Billingsgate, have very
recently proved that fatal consequences attend the parsimony of those
landlords who repair when they should rebuild; and I think I may
safely declare that there are at this moment at least 3000 houses in
a dangerous state of ruin within London and Westminster, which may
hereafter make their owners repent the indulgence of their avarice.
He that observes the present miserable representatives of bricks and
_dirt_ mortar constantly ascending in tottering piles around him,
cannot wonder that houses sometimes fall with their own weight ere
they are finished; and he must anticipate future consequences. The
Legislature wisely enacted regulations to prevent the communication of
accidental fires; but more remains to be done--let them ordain that
bricks and mortar should hereafter be of a certain standard, under a
heavy fine and imprisonment; and that surveyors should be appointed to
order the demolition of new houses built in opposition to the clauses
of the Act.

The reader who _admires_ adulteration may find enough of it thus
noticed in the London Chronicle, June 2, 1764. This article evinces
that I am not the first person who has reprobated the London
brick-maker. "We have long complained of _alum_ bread, of small beer
brewed with _treacle and water_, and porter without _malt or hops_.
No one is now ignorant, that half of the best rums and brandies are
but _malt spirits_; and that the quantity of port-wine which is drunk
in England, by the help of _Alicant_ and _other mixtures_, more than
doubly exceeds what is annually imported. And every family at this time
is lamenting the unmerciful roguery of forestallers and engrossers,
and those who increase the price upon all adulterated commodities,
without any feeling for the consumer. But we take not the least notice
of a practice that seems more hurtful to the community than any of the
above--_the present method of making bricks_.

"If you go to the remains of London Wall, or examine any old brick
buildings, you will find it more difficult to pull it down, than it
was for the architect to raise it; but let any person attend to the
continual accounts given in the papers _of the number of half-built
houses that tumble down before they can be finished_, and he will
tremble for those who are to inhabit the many piles of new buildings
that are daily rising in this metropolis. When we consider the practice
among some of the brick-makers about the town, we shall not wonder
at this consequence, though we must shudder at the evil. The increase
of buildings has increased the demand, and consequently the price of
bricks. The demand for bricks has raised the price of brick-earth
so greatly, that the makers are tempted to mix _the slop of the
streets_, _ashes_, _scavengers dirt_, and every thing that will make
the brick-earth or clay go as far as possible. It is said the price
of this brick-earth is more than doubled within these two or three
years. The Scavenger, unwilling to be behind with the Landholder, has
doubled the price of ashes, trebled the price of cinders, and charges
a considerable price for the filth, mud, and what they call the slop
of the streets. This slop makes near one half of the composition that
is to raise the enormous and very numerous buildings which are to
unite London with Highgate, Bromley, Rumford, and Brentford, within
these five years; unless, what seems very possible, the bricklayers,
carpenters, and masons, with all their labourers and workmen, are
overwhelmed in the ruins of their own buildings before the plan is
finished. The Legislature has provided for our safety against the
roguery of the Builders; but, unless the materials of which the bricks
are made shall be taken into consideration, London may shortly resemble
the City of Lisbon, without the intervention of an Earthquake."

When the Corporation of London had determined in 1766 to remove many of
the inconveniences and obstructions then common in the City of London,
it appeared in evidence that the Streets were generally badly paved,
very dirty, and not sufficiently lighted; and that the Signs prevented
a free circulation of the air and view of the Streets, while the Posts
contributed to impede the passenger. Nor were the Penthouses less
injurious; those, loaded with flower-pots, often occasioned dangerous
hurts by the fall of the latter; and the watering of the plants in them
contributed, with the projecting spouts, in rainy weather, to sluice
the Citizen, who at the same time steered his undulating or zig-zag way
through wheelbarrows and bawling owners. Another comfort peculiar to
this period was the ambition of Shop-keepers, who encroached upon the
footways by bow-windows. When an example was set, the whole fraternity,
fired with emulation, thrust each new one beyond his neighbour. Such
were the impediments to walking so recently as 1766! The reader may
imagine how a Londoner must have felt during a high wind and shower; a
thousand signs swinging on rusty hinges above him, threatening ruin to
his person at every step, and a thousand spouts pouring cascades at his
luckless head.

The extravagant use of Signs had been complained of early in the
century, when they were described as very large, very fine with
gilding and carving, and very absurd. _Golden_ perriwigs, saws, axes,
razors, trees, lancets, knives, salmon, cheese, blacks' heads with gilt
hair, half-moons, sugar-loaves, and Westphalia hams, were repeated
without mercy from the Borough to Clerkenwell, and from Whitechapel
to the Haymarket; but a person who knew what they were much better
than myself thus described them under the signature of A. B. in one of
the newspapers of 1764: "In the beginning of the reign of Louis XIV.
the inhabitants of the City of Paris were ever complaining how sick
the City was, and how fast they died: upon which, Louis consulted the
Medical people what could be the cause of it: and they all agreed, that
it was owing to the largeness of the Signs, which choaked up the free
circulating air, which ever administers to health; upon which an edict
was published, that no Sign should be more than 18 inches by 12, and
all the iron perhaps may weigh four or five pounds; and I do suppose
that some of the Sign-irons in London weigh four or five hundred, and
some a great deal more. Soon after this edict was published, it was
declared by the inhabitants, that they found a sensible difference in
their healths. The general run of their streets are a little wider than
Paternoster-row; a few much wider, and a great many not so wide.

"Now, when the wind blows hard upon a very broad Sign, with a great
weight of Iron on the front of the house, I often wonder, that the
fronts do not fall oftener than they do. In the year 1718, the front of
a house, opposite Bride-lane in Fleet-street, fell down, and killed two
young ladies, a cobler, and the King's Jeweller. This you may depend
upon as a truth; many others were maimed, and a few more were killed,
I cannot say how many: this was done by the wind blowing hard against
the large Sign and Iron. These gorgeous Signs are to draw in customers;
but, if they were all upon a footing, and our signs and callings were
wrote as they are in the Strand, would not every body be the better for
it, and a great deal of money be saved into the bargain? First, they
would save their money; secondly, render the City more healthy; and
thirdly, prevent people's brains being knocked out," &c. &c.

The suggestions of this and other good citizens were at length attended
to; and the Court of Common Council appointed a Committee, in the same
year, to consider of some method by which they might accomplish the
removal of Signs and Water-spouts, and cause the former to be affixed
to the fronts of houses flat against the wall, and the latter to be so
contrived as to discharge their contents without annoying passengers.
The gentlemen commissioned for the above purpose were directed besides
to arrange a plan for inscribing the names of streets, lanes, and
alleys, on their corners.

Soon after the above appointment, the Newspaper-writers frequently
noticed the alteration of Signs; and the inhabitants of Shug-lane
appear to have led the way in putting the Act of Parliament in
execution, sanctioning the general improvement of London and
Westminster. In addition to the names of streets placed on the corners,
the Nobility then introduced brass plates or door-plates with their
names engraved on them; and the numbering of the houses completed this
portion of the great work of amendment.

The streets of London were extremely inconvenient before this period,
as the kennels were in the midst, and the stones of the pavements
round; nor was there, as at present, a smooth footway for the
pedestrian. A meeting of the Commissioners for the re-paving of London
was held in June 1766, when Aberdeen granite was adopted, and Charles
Whitworth, Esq. contracted for the performance; but the Commissioners
for paving the squares, streets, and lanes of Westminster, had issued
the following intimation in March 1763:

"Notice is hereby given, that they intend new paving
Parliament-street, Charing Cross, Cockspur-street, and
Pall Mall; for which purpose the following Proposals are
advertised, _viz._

"1st, For furnishing Edinburgh stones, or stones of the like
quality, for the carriage-way of the said streets, at the
Quarry, according to the dimensions following, _viz._ of four
and five inches thick (and a few of six for the kennels), and
not less than nine inches deep, and for delivering the same
at the places where they may be most conveniently shipped.

2dly, For freight and delivery at such wharf or wharfs, near
Westminster-bridge, as the Commissioners shall direct.

3dly, For carriage from the said wharf or wharfs to the said
streets, or any of them, as the Surveyor shall direct.

4thly, For paving of the carriage-way of the said streets
with the said stones, supplying the best Thames sand,
labourers, and all incidental charges (except only removing
the old pavement, and leveling the ground), according to such
dimensions as shall be set out by the Surveyor, and under
such inspection of the Surveyor as is directed by the Act of
Parliament.

5thly, For paving the footways of the said streets with the
best Purbeck pavement, and a curb of Purbeck or Moor stone
twelve inches broad, and seven inches thick, leveling the
ground, finding all materials and workmanship, according to
such levels and such dimensions as shall be directed and
appointed by the Surveyor, and under his inspection, as the
said Act directs; as likewise for re-laying such part of the
old footways as shall be directed by the Surveyor.

6thly, Persons willing to contract may make their Proposals
for the whole, or any part, of the said works; and for
keeping the same in repair for the term of ten years; the
said works being to be completed within one year from the 3d
of May next.

Note, The number of square yards of the carriage-way is about
20,000; and the quantity of stones to be contracted for will
be 7000 tons, to be delivered in London, within the space
of one year from the 3d of May 1763 to the 3d of May 1764,
according to the following proportions, _viz._ 600 tons in
the month of May, 800 tons in each of the months of June,
July, August, and September, 500 in October, 400 in each of
the months of November, December, and January, and 500 tons
in each of the months of February, March, and April.

Proposals in writing, sealed up, to be delivered in at
Westminster-bridge office, Old Palace-yard, Westminster, on
or before Tuesday the 12th of April next.

By order of the Commissioners,

GEORGE BOX, _Clerk_."

As St. James's-street now is, nothing can be more convenient than the
gradual declination from Piccadilly to the Palace. That the houses
on each side of the way have been almost entirely rebuilt since the
year 1765, will pretty plainly appear from the ensuing lively paper,
inserted in the London Chronicle August 15, 1765:

"We have read a great deal in your paper about Liberty, Mr. Printer;
give me leave to say a word or two about Property, which, talk as they
please, the greatest part of mankind reckon the most valuable of the
two. Our sensible forefathers, in framing the Streets of this great
City, preferred utility to ornament; and, in St. James's-street, they
were very industrious, that the paving of that uneven ground should
not prejudice the property of any individual.--Their wiser sons have
wished to reverse this practice, and have been full as industrious in
conforming the buildings to the Scotch paving. The descent from the
upper to the lower end of this street being so very steep, has brought
very whimsical distresses upon many of the inhabitants--some of the
ground-floors, that were almost level with the street, are now eight,
nine, and some ten steps, and those very steep, from the ground; while
others, to which you used to ascend by three or four steps, are now
as many below the surface. Cellars are now above ground, and some
gentlemen are forced to dive into their own parlours. Many laughable
accidents too have happened from this new method of turning the world
upside-down: some persons, not thinking of the late alterations,
attempting to knock at their own door, have frequently tumbled up
their new-erected steps, while others, who have been used to ascend
to their threshold, have as often, for the same reason, tumbled down;
and their fall had been the greater, from their lifting up their legs
to ascend as usual. An old gouty friend of mine complains heavily; he
has lain, he says, upon the ground-floor for these ten years, and he
chose the house he lives in because there was no step to the door;
and now he is obliged to mount at least nine, before he can get into
his bedchamber, and the entrance into his house is at the one pair of
stairs. A neighbour too complains he has lost a good lodger, because
he refused to lower the price of his first floor, which the gentleman
insisted he ought, as the lodgings are now up two pair of stairs. Many
of the street doors are not above five feet high; and the owners, when
they enter their houses, seem as if they were going into a dog-kennel
rather than their own habitations. To say the truth, no fault can be
imputed to the trustees: but many are great sufferers; and this method
of making the houses conform to the ornamental paving, is something
like the practice of Procrustes, the robber, who made a bed of certain
dimensions, and whoever was put into it, had his legs cut shorter if
they were too long, or stretched out if they were too short, till the
poor wretch was precisely of the length with the bed.

"I am, Sir, yours, &c.

"ANTI-PROCRUSTES."

The exertions of our fathers in the general improvement of houses and
streets have left _us_ little to do. Pure air, so essential to the
preservation of life, now circulates freely through the _new_ streets;
squares, calculated for ornament, health, and the higher ranks of the
community, are judiciously dispersed, and their centres converted into
beautiful gardens; the tall houses have a sufficient number of large
windows; the areas in front are wide, and handsomely railed with cast
iron; lamps on scrollwork are suspended at due distances from each
other; and admirable level smooth footways of great breadth protect the
passenger from the carts and carriages, separated from him by a curb
stone raised several inches above spacious kennels, through which the
water from showers passes and descends into large drains, communicating
with vast sewers many feet below the level of the street.

There are salutary laws providing for the performance of those acts of
cleanliness which individuals might neglect or omit. The inmates of
every house will of course cleanse the steps leading to it; but they
will not _universally_ remove the soil from their pavements. The law
commands them to do so _every_ morning under a penalty of 5_s._; and
yet there are very few who walk the narrow streets of London in winter
can forget the retrograde motion of their feet on the deep mud when the
pavements are--_greasy_. Sir William Curtis, when Lord Mayor, recently
determined to enforce the law--and very honourably _fined himself_.

Scavengers are appointed to sweep the carriage-ways, and carry off the
dirt; and yet there are places to be found where brooms have not always
done their duty. The publick are very properly forbid to throw any
kind of dust into the streets, and are ordered to reserve it for the
Dustman, who is enjoined to call for it frequently; and yet I was once
informed by a housekeeper that their Parish Dustman had not honoured
them with a visit _for six long weeks_. The renters of single rooms,
in first, second, and third floors, in mean streets, feel themselves
_above_ restraint. Those people empty dirty water mixed with their
offals into the gutters, the stench of which is appalling; but I
forget, they certainly do not offend against the law--it is _dust_,
not _water dirtied_, or mixed with dust and vegetables, which they are
forbidden to deposit in the streets.

Let me not neglect in this survey the laudable efforts of the Sweepers
male and female, who, stationed at corners and crossings, faithfully
remove every appearance of soil from the stones for the casual receipt
of half-pence. They are undoubtedly an useful body, and they have my
commendations accordingly.

Beer-houses, or, as they are generally termed, Public Houses, render
our streets extremely unpleasant in summer; but delicacy forbids my
adding more on the subject. Would that equal delicacy in the keepers
would _turn their customers backwards_!

So much for the Streets. Repairing-leases contribute greatly to the
handsome appearance of the Houses; every thing is in order; and the
clause for painting the fronts triennally keeps the woodwork as clean
and bright as our fogs and the coal smoke will permit. The shop-keeper
prides himself on the neatness of his shop-front; his little portico,
and the pilasters and cornices, are imitations of Lydian, serpentine,
porphyry, and verde antique marbles; and those who have the good
fortune to serve any branch of the Royal Family immediately place large
sculptures of their several arms and supporters over their doors, and
their own names and business in golden characters. The great windows
of large panes exhibit the richest manufactures, and the doors of the
Linen drapers are closed by draperies of new muslins and calicoes. Some
wags pretend indeed that the tradesman has a double motive in this
proceeding--the darkening of his premises to prevent keen eyes from
discovering coarse threads, and embellishing his shop.

The Goldsmiths and Jewellers, and some Pawnbrokers, indulge the
publick with the view of diamonds, pearls, rubies, emeralds, gold,
and silver, in most fascinating quantities; but the Watch-makers and
Glassmen eclipse all competitors in the display of fanciful clocks set
in alabastor, or _molu_, gold and silver, and the richest cut glass
lighted by patent lamps at night. The Bookseller exposes copies of the
most expensive works in his windows, and the Printsellers those of the
best artists. The Undertaker covers his panes with escutcheons, crowns,
coronets, and mitres of gold; and contrives to introduce the lid of a
little velvet coffin, which is intended to lead the eye to full-sized
real ones preparing for the dead.

The Lottery-office-keeper attracts a crowd by numbers of tickets and
shares disposed for sale, and always places a paper _memento_ at
the elbow, of "No. &c. &c. sold at this office in the last lottery,
drawn a prize of 30,000_l._" Hence the Lucky Office and _Only_ Lucky
Office[403:A].

The retailer of Quack Medicines covers every pane of his shop-windows
with the bills of different compounders of nostrums, and the angles
between the paper and the sashes with transparent vivid colours; and
the Proprietors of Newspapers seize upon every battle or capture as
fair opportunities for pasting large pieces of paper together, which
they inscribe "Sixth edition," &c. &c. and suspend from the top to the
bottom of their casements; while their myrmidons the Newsmen reiterate
the "Sixth edition" with distended lungs in the short intervals between
the--I had almost said--infernal blasts of their tin trumpets. Let the
purchaser, however, beware the Newsman doth not give him a paper or
gazette--three weeks old--_in the hurry of the moment_!

Such are the methods adopted by the London Tradesmen to attract
attention, and such the appearance of the lower part of their Houses:
indeed, Commodities are now generally used in place of the antient
Signs. One of their _absurdities_ deserves reprehension: when a man
has a front door between two windows, or a door on the right side of a
window, he will have his name over the door, and his business on the
friezes of the windows; for instance,

Window Door Window
--+---------------+-------+---------------+--
| GOLDSMITH AND | BROWN | JEWELLER, &c. |
+---------------+-------+---------------+

instead of "Brown, goldsmith and jeweller." The nonsense produced in
this way is sometimes incredibly ludicrous. I once observed the words
"Preston, Nightman, and Rubbish carted," so placed that they conveyed
an idea of a partnership "Preston and _Rubbish_."

[Illustration: _View in Hyde Park_]

[Illustration: _View in Park-lane_]

[Illustration: _Westminster Abbey_]

[Illustration: _Part of Westminster bridge_]

[Illustration: _Westminster from Milbank_]

The noble fronts of the several Banking-houses and Insurance offices,
many of the latter with fine emblematic statues over the doors, are
great ornaments to the streets of London.

The interior architecture of our dwellings is generally very
convenient; but I could wish that the kitchens might henceforward be
erected behind the house, that no human being should be immersed in
damp, and blinded with darkness, as our servants now are, seven or
eight feet below the surface of the street.

It will be perceived that every thing under this article has now
been noticed which is independent of the information already given
in "Londinium Redivivum." I shall, therefore, conclude it with
referring the reader to the annexed Prints, where he will find
sketches of various parts of London which I have considered as the
most picturesque, the whole contributing to illustrate the _general
character_ of the Metropolis.

FOOTNOTES:

[359:A] Mungo Park confirms this supposition by his description of
the mud walls and thatched roofs of the Savages in Africa, where
civilization has not yet made its appearance.

[364:A] See specimens of brick-work in the annexed prints, of Croydon
palace, and a curious gateway, dated 1599, near Bromley, Kent.

[366:A] The _Minced pie_ House is at Greenwich, and was built by
Vanbrugh. The ludicrous title is a witticism upon the architecture.--It
is an unfortunate circumstance that the two old houses in
Goswell-street are just rebuilt; and the view of Privy-garden is _now_
incorrect, through alterations made since the Plate was engraved.

[403:A] The expensive and absurd methods lately adopted by
Lottery-office keepers and many other tradesmen to invite customers are
too contemptible for serious notice.

CHAP. X.

SKETCH OF THE PRESENT STATE OF SOCIETY IN LONDON.

When a Londoner of the lowest class receives his employer's permission
to relax from the labours of his profession, he endeavours to obtain
the company of several of his acquaintance. Observe them assembled,
and mark their _costume_: they wear a round hat, like those of Men of
fashion, placed far back on the head, covering a collection of long
lank hair, which shades the features composed of vacancy and impudence;
the neck is clothed in a coarse muslin cravat folded in ungraceful
lines over a monstrous stiffener, which, defying compression, leaves
a great opening between the _poma Adami_ and it, from which the chin
emerges and retires forty times in an hour. The coat is generally of
dark blue or brown lapelled, the waistcoat of white or printed cotton,
and the legs are covered either by pantaloons or breeches and white
cotton stockings. Their progress through the streets is marked by
impetuosity and a constant exertion of strength, making the peaceable
Citizen with his wife and children retire to the entrance of a house,
or cross the kennel, in order to avoid being hurried forward with
them, or overturned. Their conversation consists of violent disputes
and execrations, often degenerating into whimsical effusions of
retort, peculiar to this branch of the great human tree, accompanied
by occasional observations on the Females who unfortunately pass them.
I must acknowledge myself more than once to have been surprised into
risibility by this species of wit, for which the speaker deserved a
horse-whip. The constant exercise of obscenity and gross allusion
prevails when a neighbour's female servant, or a sister of one of the
party, is present. We will not follow them across the Fields, but
meet them seated at one of those inviting scenes which may be found
on every side of London called Tea-gardens, where Tea indeed seldom
makes its appearance. A few miserable bushes tortured into arbours veil
in some degree the hateful exhibitions at these places, the licensed
receptacles for mental degradation, receptacles for young men and young
women, who are seated on benches before tables covered with _liquor
and tobacco-pipes_! What can be expected from these assemblages but
the inevitable consequences, drunkenness and debauchery? Their effects
are observable whenever any public occurrence assembles the people of
London; the whole Civil Power of which cannot restrain many enormities
committed on those occasions. Under an idea of whim and pleasantry they
perpetrate many scandalous actions, amusing themselves by throwing some
filthy thing into the thickest part of a crowd, or driving forward
till they half suffocate those before them, or hurt others by severe
falls. Whenever an illumination takes place, their turbulence becomes
seriously mischievous by the firing of pistols and throwing of squibs
and crackers; but the latter practices, I hope, are now entirely
subdued by the Magistracy.

This class is fond of Theatrical amusements; and numbers may be
observed waiting on an evening before the doors of the Theatres
impatient and crowding for admission. The Pickpocket is always ready;
but his operations are often frustrated by the Peace-officer's constant
exclamation of "Take care of your pockets." When the door is opened,
a dangerous trial of skill ensues: every person endeavours to enter
first; the space is clogged; and pushing, screams, and execrations
follow. If we enter the One-shilling Gallery, we witness constant
disputes often terminating in blows, and observe heated bodies
stripped of the outward garments, furious faces, with others grinning
horribly, hear loud and incessant talking and laughter, beating the
floor with sticks, hissing, clapping the hands, and the piercing
whistle, with exclamations for "Musick."

This motley collection are, however, generally attentive spectators and
patient auditors during the representations; and I have remarked that
any generous sentiment from the characters on the stage never fails to
receive the loudest tokens of applause from the One-shilling Gallery;
but this Gallery becomes a very troublesome appendage to the Theatre,
when their highnesses divide into two parties, one for, and the other
against the repetition of a pleasing song. This is particularly felt in
the performance of a favourite Opera or Musical Farce.

The next stage is that of Journeymen; thousands of whom have been
steady well-behaved youths, in the practice of passing their evenings
and holidays in rational pursuits with parents or friends, and
who enter upon their profession determined to render themselves
respectable, and their connexions happy. With such I have nothing
to do; there is too much still-life for description in the man who
rises at six in the morning, and works without cessation till six in
the evening. His intervals of amusement may be directed to the same
objects, Tea-gardens, public Exhibitions, and the Theatres; but his
conduct is so properly governed, that Temperance and Pleasure dance in
his features.

Those whose characteristic outline I have traced before work, perhaps,
three days in the week. Sunday they appropriate to the same species
of relaxation to which they accustomed themselves in apprenticeship:
Monday is sainted with them. And who will work on _Saint Monday_? Not
the idle Journeyman and Labourer of London. Unfortunately the votaries
of this Saint celebrate his name with libations of Beer and Gin, the
fumes of which render them unfit for work on Tuesday. On Wednesday
they begin the week; not by a close attention to their business, as
their employers find to the extent of vexation and disappointment,
but by repeated potations of beer, which a boy brings at stated hours
all through the day; by retiring at twelve o'clock to dinner, and
frequently returning at four, and going again to _tea_ at four, if they
should _accidentally_ get to work at one. The excessive use of the
former soporific beverage renders the Journeyman stupid, fretful, and
quarrelsome, which any person may perceive by passing a public house
at almost any period of the day. At the close of the week necessity
compels this description of madmen to work; for, Saturday arriving, he
must procure the means of redeeming his own and his wife's clothes from
that _most respectable member of society_ the Pawnbroker. And this is
the labouring life of at least thirty thousand persons at present in
London!

Their domestic _amusements_ chiefly consist in disputes with a Wife,
who finds herself and children sacrificed to the brutal propensities
of Drinking and Idleness; and the scene of contention is intolerable,
if the lady possesses a high spirit; so entirely so to the husband,
that he fixes himself for the evening with a party at the public
house, where he is at first entertained, and entertains in turn, on
the thriving subject of Politicks, culled from the delightful themes
of so many thousands massacred in one place, and as many in another.
As the night advances, the Journeyman becomes whimsical; one of the
company is requested to sing, the rest join in chorus; and another hour
elapses in a chaos of sounds equally insulting to the general quiet of
the publick and the neighbourhood. By this time the Wife peeps through
the windows, hoping to find a favourable opportunity of getting the
sot to bed; which if she accomplishes without a kicking, she may be
pronounced a lucky woman for that evening. A sober inhabitant of London
cannot but be shocked at the staggering fellow-citizens he meets with
late on a summer evening, labouring under a voluntary St. Vitus's
dance, when returning to their homes. I saw a man of this description
in Russel-square, who had placed his hat on the pavement, and danced
round it. To this ludicrous exhibition all eyes were directed. "Ah!"
said an old female to another, "that man would never drink again could
he see himself with our sensations."

There are thirty-six public-houses in Old-street between Goswell-street
and the City-road. Can they be supported by the population of that
neighbourhood without endless excesses? And there are other districts
where those curses to society are equally numerous? Shame on our
thoughtless conduct in permitting a trade calculated only for human
destruction! If comfort, health, and pleasure can arise from quaffing
gallons of beer, let the lower classes be compelled to drink it at home
with their friends and families; and no longer suffer that promiscuous
mixture of folly and vice which results from thieves drinking with
honest men. It is from this cause alone that men are brutalized.
Difference of opinion will arise between members of the most polished
classes: those become quarrels in the lower; and hence the petty
actions for assaults which are tried in every direction. Examine the
Old Bailey causes; and if Public-houses and Dram-shops are not found to
be the general theatres of thieving plots and murders, let me receive
no farther credit.

London and the environs are overwhelmed with population. Every
description of the inhabitants of the Country watch for favourable
opportunities of removing to this enormous magnet; or, if that cannot
be accomplished, they send their offspring of both sexes. Hundreds
of servant girls and apprentices are thus prepared annually for
prostitution and thoughtless marriages; every room in numbers of
streets becomes the residence of Apprentices, Journeymen, their wives,
and multitudes of children, who starve away existence year after year
in hopeless sameness, and are often separated from Vice only by a deal
or lath and plaster partition. The consequences of this crowded state
of the City are so well known, that it is hardly necessary to point
them out. I shall however venture to direct the Reader's attention to
the Alms-houses, Work-houses, Charity Schools, Hospitals, and Prisons,
which surround us; and ask whence they are filled? Who turns his
attention to the second-floors, the garrets, the back-rooms, and the
cellars of this Metropolis? It would be wrong to say no one; but who
relates the result of his research? It may be imagined Hogarth has
given us a true picture in his Distressed Poet: that print may serve
as a foundation; a few additions of the _sombre_ cast would furnish
thousands of real scenes.

The next class of crowded residents are persons with small incomes,
who are compelled by great rents and heavy taxes to occupy furnished
and unfurnished first and second floors. Those are generally healthy,
and comfortably situated; but their eternal removals indicate that
discontent and altercation exist but too frequently between the
landlord's family and the lodger. Kitchens used in common by both
parties are sources of discord; the cleansing of stairs ascended by
all the inhabitants of the house is another; and the late hours of
the latter a third. It is therefore common to see the streets almost
obstructed every quarter-day with cart-loads of furniture.

The usual time of rising with the class of Journeymen is between five
and six in the morning. At the latter hour they commence their daily
labour, and work till eight; an hour is then allowed for breakfast, and
from twelve till one for dinner; and the business of the day concludes
at six; but some industrious men work many extra hours. Public-houses
are opened in sufficient time to furnish those who choose it with
pernicious liquids; and the keepers will either send tea and bread and
butter to the Journeymen for breakfast, or provide it for him at the
house. This innocent meal is most commonly preferred; but I am sorry to
say numbers never drink any thing so weak. The Journeyman and Labourer
sometimes eat bread and cheese, or salted meat and bread, on the spot
where they work; others return to their homes to dine; and others eat
at the Cook's-shop, at which they may have what quantity they please
of baked and boiled meat, and flour and pease-puddings, at a very
reasonable rate. Tea, and bread and cheese or meat, conclude the meals
of the day. Large potations of beer, allowed by the employer in some
instances, and clubbed for in others, fill the intervals of labour.
When two labouring men meet accidentally in the streets, the second
word after the usual salutation is _What will you drink?_ or, _Let us
have a glass, or a pint_; and it frequently happens that neither can
muster halfpence sufficient.

A Gin-shop may generally be _scented_ as the passenger approaches;
but he cannot mistake it, as an assembly of the drivers of asses with
soot, brick dust, cats'-meat, and vegetables, with a due proportion
of _low_ ladies of pleasure, always besiege the door. Thanks to the
Distiller and Brewer, liquor is much less powerful in its operations
at present than it was fifty years past: hence the improvement in the
conduct of the votaries of Geneva. Those people very seldom exceed low
wit, a little noise, and abuse of each other: indeed, our streets are
wonderfully quiet, and riots and quarrels are very rare.

The Tradesman and his Lodgers generally rise about the same hour,
from six to nine o'clock, and often from the same description of
_turned-up_ bedsteads, and beds inclosed in resemblances of chests of
drawers and book-cases. These unwholesome contrivances originate from
the necessity of accommodating many persons in a space calculated for
very few: they are to be found in most lodging-houses; but four-post
bedsteads and elegant curtains are constantly provided in _furnished_
lodgings.

Tea, coffee, cocoa, rolls, toast, and bread and butter, form the
breakfasts of this class of the community; and the hours of dining
vary from one till half past four. Plain joints baked, roasted, and
boiled, and potatoes, and other vegetables, are standing dishes;
some exceed in fish, fowls, rabbits, &c. &c.; and many make their
meals from veal-cutlets, beef-steaks, and pork and mutton chops, with
potatoes, and very little bread. Fruit-pies and puddings are much used;
table-beer, ale, and porter, are the most common beverage. Ardent
spirits and hot water mixed too often follow; but wine seldom appears.
Invitations of friends on Sundays and holidays produce many luxuries
distributed by neat servant-maids.

Tea, &c. succeeds from five to six o'clock, and a slight supper at
nine. The evening is variously spent, in Visits, at the Playhouse, or
with the eternal use of Cards. Conversation and Reading are greatly
neglected; consequently numbers of this class speak very incorrectly.

The opulent Tradesman, he that has retired from business, and the
Merchant, live much in the above manner in many respects; but, as
the family never do any thing themselves, a Cook, a House-maid, a
Nursery-maid, and a Foot-_boy_ or Foot-_man_, become necessary;
to which may be added in many cases a second establishment for a
Country-house, a Groom, and even a Coachman; but the latter is
frequently hired by the year, and then the Coachman is not always a
domestick.

The man of business and the Merchant generally sleep in the _country_,
or if you please--_near London_, and come to town after breakfast. The
family may either breakfast with him, or the ladies may indulge at
their pleasure. Shopping in Hackney or other coaches in the morning,
Visits, Musick, or Reading, occupy the space from breakfast at nine,
ten, and eleven, till four, five, or six o'clock, the various hours
for dining of the latter, when several friends are probably assembled
to partake of a variety of viands of the best quality, followed by a
handsome dessert and excellent wines.

The hour of relaxation is now arrived; the cares of the world and
business are dismissed; little more is said besides observations on
the goodness of the provision, &c. and "Shall I help you to this
or that?" Shall I add that too great repletion in this class often
produces apoplexy? Several hours elapse in drinking wine; and Bacchus
almost always usurps the place of the Ladies, who retire to cards till
the Gentlemen are summoned to tea, sometimes not in a state to enjoy
rational conversation. Supper ensues, and the bottle finishes the scene
at a late hour.

The reader must recollect that, when a family is without visitors, it
is governed by greater regularity. Many Merchants and rich Tradesmen
pass much of their leisure time at coffee-houses; and dinners are
commonly given at those places. Reading the papers and conversation are
strong inducements, exclusive of the bargains and consultations between
strangers conveniently made and held at these places.

The Ladies of the class now under notice have almost universally been
educated at boarding-schools, and possess a general knowledge of the
usages of fashionable life. Drawing, Musick, Dancing, Fancy-works,
the French language, &c. are alternately employed, with Vauxhall,
the Winter and Summer Theatres, walking in the Park at a particular
season of the year, Cards, &c. &c. to kill time--and a little trip to
a Watering-place is delightful beyond measure, where, it is necessary
to observe, _every body_ goes, from the Oilman's lady to the Princess,
either in the Hoys, the Stage-coaches, Post-chaises, Glass-coaches,
or their own coaches. Novels, those fruitful sources of amusement,
are welcome besides to all descriptions of _Citizenesses_ and _some_
Citizens.

Libraries are to be found in the houses of many rich Traders and
Tradesmen; and there have been instances of most valuable works issuing
from their studies. _Circulating_ Libraries are of infinite use to the
avaricious, and those of moderate incomes, and are very numerous; they
produce a taste for reading, which cannot be excited in any other way,
and should be encouraged by the Legislature under proper regulations.
Many persons have associated, and composed Book Societies: the annual
subscription of each individual is small; but the aggregate sum thus
obtained enables the members to nominate expensive works, which are
read in rotation; and, as it is a rule to sell the least approved of,
the stock is farther maintained. The above means, and the additions
to vast libraries both public and private continually making, has
encouraged Literature to a most honourable extent in London, where
numerous Authors are constantly employed in composing books of every
possible description, which, richly embellished with engravings,
generally sell rapidly.

The next and last class consists of persons of antient families
possessed of large incomes, and the Nobility. Their manner of passing
the day may soon be described. Early rising is neither _necessary_, nor
is it _universally_ practised. Breakfast often makes its appearance at
the Tradesman's hour of dining; though in some well-regulated families
there is far more rationality. Novels, Newspapers, Magazines, Reviews,
and little articles contrived to attract the fancy, are spread abroad
in the breakfast-room, and afford amusement and conversation, while the
languid operation of eating is performing. Suppose the Gentlemen of the
family set forward on their morning equestrian ride; the Ladies read,
work with their needle, or play on the Piano; nay, little childish
games sometimes engage their attention till the hour for Visiting and
Shopping arrives. Then the streets resound with the hoofs of fiery
steeds, and thunder from the hands of the footman announces on the door
of a friend ---- a card containing the visitors name; but there are
instances, I believe, on record of Ladies alighting.

The hours of five, six, and seven o'clock reassemble the family to
dinner, for which the party dresses in the most elegant manner, and
frequently partake with their friends around them of the richest _made_
dishes, joints of meat, fish, poultry, confectionary, &c. &c. served
in two or three courses by a butler, and footmen stationed behind each
chair of the company present. Tea and coffee generally make their
appearance before the wine and fruit are removed; but there are some
who retire to the drawing-room for the use of those refreshments. The
supper hour cannot be named with precision; it may be introduced from
ten o'clock till two in the morning.

The amusements of the Rich and Noble consist of every possible
enjoyment: birth-days, levees, breakfasts at _private_ houses attended
by two or three hundred persons at three or four o'clock in the
afternoon, dinners, card-parties, suppers, and _routs_. The reader _not
yet born_ will, perhaps, thank my memory for adding that which may then
be forgotten.

A fashionable and opulent inhabitant of Westminster often occupies a
house calculated for the reception _conveniently_ of the Master, the
Mistress, two or three Children, a Nursery-maid, a Groom, a Coachman, a
Butler, three Footmen, a Cook, and two or three House-maids, governed
by a House-keeper; and we will finish the groupe by a Governess _who
speaks French_. So far all is right; now, future Reader, comes the
essence of my information. See this house confined to an ichnography
of twenty-five feet by forty prepared for a _rout_: the floor is
painted in graceful figures and flowers with coloured chalks for
dancing; girandoles and lustres of splendid cut glass with numerous
wax-candles lighted exhibit the lady in her jewels ready to receive
her guests equally resplendent. Ay, but the number--what say you to an
_hundred, two hundred_? There is pleasure, there amusement, and the
inexpressible delight of languor, even fainting through exertion,
heat, and suffocation! The company endeavour to compress themselves
for obtaining a space to dance in, and afterwards they crowd to the
supper-table sparkling with polished plate, and loaded with every
delicacy; there the _amusements_ of Tantalus are renewed. Can we
wonder that Aurora often lights our fashionables home, when we reflect
on these fascinating inducements to keep late hours? But those to
whom Fortune has been more propitious, in presenting them with vast
mansions, have entertained as many as eight hundred persons through
the night in a far less crowded state. Other amusements of the great
consist in riding through Hyde-park; the Ladies in their coaches, and
the Gentlemen on horseback in an adjoining road. He that would judge
of the population of London should attend in the Park on any Sunday at
three o'clock, from February till May: he must be astonished at the
sight. The coaches, the horses, the populace of every rank who toil
against the bleak East winds, are wonderfully numerous. Nor should
he omit a visit to Kensington-gardens in May, to view the beautiful
pedestrians that form our fashionable world; or a winter excursion to
the Serpentine-river and the Canal in St. James's-park, where numbers
skait, or attempt to skait.

It would be useless to more than mention the additional pursuits of
the Rich, who visit the annual exhibitions of Paintings and other
attractive objects with eagerness, the Playhouse, Vauxhall, &c.
&c.; but, alas! London becomes a mere blank after the 4th of June.
_Nobody_ remains in _Town_; it is too hot, too suffocating! _Every
body_ therefore retires to their seats, _if they have them_; and _the
rest_ fly to _Margate_, _Ramsgate_, and _Brighton_, those _capacious_
receptacles.

Such are the follies of many: but, thanks to Heaven! there are numbers
of our Nobility and Gentry who live and act for the general benefit of
mankind.--And now,

VALE, LONDINIUM!

INDEX.

Abel, Mr. concert by, ii. 123.

Accession of George III. celebrated, i. 339.

Accident, dreadful, at Covent Garden Theatre, ii. 190.

---- fatal, in Westminster, i. 253.

Actors, scale of merit of various, ii. 254.

Advertisement by Lord Vane, i. 431.

Ætna, mount, eruption of, represented, ii. 275.

Allen, W. jun. shot, ii. 74.

---- description of his tomb, ii. 81.

---- W. sen. his petition to the King, ii. 82.

Almanac John, and his sigils, i. 97.

Ambassador, riot at the house of the Morocco, ii. 66.

Anne, Queen, communication of, to the Lord Mayor, ii. 13.

Apollo Gardens, account of, i. 332.

Apprentices, turbulence of, ii. 88.

Archers, entertainment for, i. 302.

Architecture, domestic, notices of, ii. 358.

Ass race, account of one, ii. 194.

Asylum, the, account of, i. 48.

Atalanta, acted on the marriage of the Prince of Wales, ii. 191.

Attalo, opera of, account of, ii. 220.

Austin, J. account of his enormous pudding, i. 404.

Bancroft's Hospital, i. 47.

Barker, gladiator, fights Stokes, ii. 170.

Barley-corn, Sir John, burnt, i. 314.

Battles at Covent garden Theatre, ii. 202.

Beadles, number and salaries of, i. 165.

Beard, Mr. his address to the public, ii 238.

Bear-garden, amusements of the, described, ii. 109, 134, 137, 147,
155, 164, 170.

---- attempt to suppress, ii. 111, 163.

Beau of 1734, described, i. 301.

---- 1727, ii. 324.

---- portrait of, in verse, i. 319.

Bed, one described, ii. 320.

Beer given to the mob by the Prince of Wales, i. 314.

Beggars, trick of R. Alegil, i. 98.

---- tricks of, i. 99, 287.

Benefit, Farinelli's, ii. 188.

Benefits, theatrical, confusion at, ii. 226.

Betting, specimens of, i. 373.

Billiard tables, burnt, i. 173.

Bills, seditious, explosion of, ii. 51.

Boxing, patronised by the rich, i. 335.

Bread, adulteration of, bad effects of, i. 174.

Bricks, first used, ii. 362.

---- badly made, ii. 390.

Bristol, Bishop of, letter to his parishioners, i. 362.

Buck, gladiator, fights Miller, ii. 135.

Buckingham, Duchess of, adopts an infant, i. 43.

Bucks, bold, account of a club so named, i. 264.

Burges, Dr. burnt in effigy, i. 242.

---- ---- meeting burnt, ii. 12.

Butchers, battles between, ii. 28.

Butterfield, Lady, advertisement by, ii. 144.

Cæsar in Egypt, epigram on the tragedy of, ii. 164.

Cards, i. 325.

Centinel, anecdote of one, ii. 246.

Chairmen, Irish, fight with sailors, ii. 56.

---- scheme of one, to obtain a debt, ii. 66.

Charitable acts of George I. i. 20, 23.

---- ---- of C. Weedon, Esq. i. 17.

---- ---- of Mr. Feast, brewer, i. 20.

---- ---- of the Prince Regent, i. 22.

---- ---- of unknown persons, i. 23.

---- ---- of the Earl of Thanet, i. 24.

---- ---- of Mrs. Turner, i. 24.

---- ---- of Roman Catholics, i. 24.

---- ---- of Lady Holford, i. 24.

---- ---- of Thomas Guy, i. 25.

---- ---- of the Citizens, to the haymakers, i. 27, 53.

---- ---- of Mahomet, a Turk, i. 27.

---- ---- of Mrs. Palmer, i. 27.

---- ---- of a committee of the Commons, i. 28.

---- ---- of the Duke of Bedford, i. 28.

---- ---- of the public to the inhabitants of Saltzburg, i. 29.

---- ---- of the managers of Drury-lane and Covent-garden Theatres, i.
52.

---- ---- of the Dutchess of Buckingham, i. 43.

---- ---- of Eliz. Pattent, i. 60.

---- ---- of the public to C. Shaw, i. 64.

---- ---- of the Marine Society, i. 64.

---- ---- of an unknown baker to starving German emigrants, i. 65.

---- ---- of Mr. Wachsel, the public, and government, to the same, i.
70, &c.

---- ---- of the public to Spital-fields weavers, i. 72.

---- ---- to the poor, i. 74.

China jars, fashionable articles, i. 242.

Christmas, customs at, described, i. 288.

---- boxes noticed, i. 289.

Cities, models of exhibited, ii. 115.

Clergy, sons of the, i. 267.

Clinch, exhibition by, ii. 136.

Clive, Mrs. Actress, letter from, ii. 228.

Club, Calves-head, riot occasioned by, ii. 47.

Clubs, spouting, account of, poetic and prosaic, ii. 202.

Coaches, hackney, i. 277.

---- ---- useless, by street robberies, i. 145.

---- ---- job, &c. ill conduct of their drivers, i. 153.

Coal-heavers, riots by, ii. 70.

---- trial of seven for shooting at J. Green, ii. 91.

Cobler of Cripplegate, hints by, i. 336.

Cock-fighting, i. 335. ii. 114, 127.

Coffee-houses, particulars of, i. 277, 282.

Colman, Mr. his retort on Mr. Harris, ii. 266.

Comedians, French, discouraged, ii. 151.

---- ---- riot concerning, ii. 200.

Concerts, illegal, i. 331.

Conduit-house, White, described in blank verse, ii. 224.

Convents, French, female youth sent to, i. 359.

Cornely, Mrs. account of, ii. 255.

Cups and balls, cheats with, i. 100.

Curiosity, prevalence of, i. 318, 372.

Cuthbeartson, hair-dresser, challenge from, i. 97.

Cuzzoni, singer, particulars of, ii. 156.

Dancing, by footmen, &c. i. 291.

---- on the rope, ii. 113.

Davenant, Sir W. picture of London by, ii. 366.

Defence, science of, ii. 108.

Denmark, King of, incommoded by the public, i. 372.

Dent, John, constable, murdered, i. 234.

Depredators, an antient fraternity, i. 87.

Dice, formerly used by barrow women, i. 255.

Dissenters, vindicated, ii. 48.

Dodd, Dr. on his unhappy fate, i. 84.

Dog, speaking, ii. 150.

Doggett's coat and badge first rowed for, i. 256.

Doggrel lines on the South Sea scheme, i. 125.

Drams, drank in high life, i. 170, 234.

Dress, anecdotes of, ii. 312.

---- of a youth described, ii. 316.

---- of ladies described, ii. 317, 319, 325, 333.

---- of the Queen described, ii. 333, 337.

---- strange, of gentlemen, ii. 322.

---- in antient times, ii. 337.

Drumming a new married pair, i. 241.

Duelling, prevalence of, i. 261.

Dutch prophet, extract from the, i. 229.

---- Stiptick, i. 222.

Eccentricity of an old gentleman, i. 396.

---- of Joseph Jacobs, i. 397.

---- of Dr. Sacheverell, i. 398.

---- of Gustavus Parker, i. 400.

---- of T. Smith, operator, i. 400.

---- of four men, i. 401.

---- of men of rank and fashion, i. 403.

---- of James Austin, i. 404.

---- of Mr. Elderton, i. 406.

---- of Mr. Dyche, i. 407.

---- of an unknown lady, i. 407.

---- of certain tiplers, i. 408.

---- of a brewer's servant, i. 408.

---- of Mr. Morrisco, i. 409.

---- of Don Saltero, i. 410.

---- of several gentlemen, i. 411.

---- of Mr. Johnston, i. 412.

---- of a Priest of St. Andrew Undershaft, i. 413.

---- of A. Simmonds, i. 414.

---- of orator Henley, i. 415.

---- of the Duchess of Hamilton, i. 422.

---- of Mrs. Jennings, i. 425.

---- of a chare-woman, i. 426.

---- of Mrs. Mapp, the bone-setter, i. 427.

---- of Viscount Vane, i. 431.

Eclogue, Covent-garden, i. 302.

Education, particulars of, i. 326.

Effingham, Countess of, robes of, described, ii. 347.

Erasmus, letter of, on the state of London, ii. 376.

Exchange-alley, account of, i. 279.

Expences at Guildhall 1761, i. 347.

Explosion, popular, ii. 51.

Fair, at Mile-end, presented, i. 303.

---- Horn, noticed, i. 360.

---- Edmonton, censured, i. 361.

---- May, ii. 108.

---- ---- constable killed at, ii. 118.

---- ---- presented, ii. 125.

---- Bartholomew, ii. 110, 113.

---- ---- interlude at, described, ii. 119.

---- ---- further noticed, ii. 139, 182.

---- ---- described in verse, ii. 234.

---- ---- presented by the grand jury, ii. 113.

Families, antient, customs, &c. of, ii. 419.

Fare, bill of, at Guildhall, i. 344.

Farinelli, benefit of, ii. 188.

Fashion, verses on, i. 316.

Fashions, general review of female, ii. 326.

---- history of, ii. 338.

---- ---- of male, ii. 340.

---- gradual changes in, ii. 354.

Faustus, Dr. story of a pantomime so called, ii. 159.

Felons, number tried in Beckford's mayoralty, &c. i. 186.

Fête champêtre at Mary-bon Gardens, ii. 289.

Fielding, Sir John, address from, to the public, for establishing a
dispensary for infants, i. 74.

---- address of, to the public concerning a coalheaver's funeral, i. 177.

---- address to the grand jury, 1773, i. 210.

---- ---- to a similar body, i. 352.

Figg, gladiator, fights Holmes, ii. 173.

---- ---- lines on, ii. 174.

---- battle at his room, ii. 175.

---- fights before the Duke of Lorrain, ii. 176.

Fire, false alarm at Drury-lane Theatre, ii. 171.

Fire-eater, extraordinary, ii. 149.

Fitzgerald, Capt. murder of a watchman by, i. 266.

Fleet Marriages, i. 272.

Florists' feast, i. 258.

Foote, letter to Lord Chamberlain, ii. 300.

Fund, Mr. Patterson's account of a charitable, i. 50.

---- Theatrical, ii. 256.

Gaming, extent of, i. 105, 217, 263, 295.

Garret, Mayor of, election of, i. 394.

Garrick, Mr. his dispute with the public, ii. 236.

---- retires from the stage, ii. 303.

Garth, Dr. extract from a prologue by him, ii. 125.

George I. honours paid him on his arrival, i. 243.

---- ---- aquatic excursion by, i. 257. ii. 139.

---- II. account of his dining at Guildhall, i. 283.

---- III. benevolence of, i. 57.

---- ---- celebration of his accession, marriage, &c. i. 339.

---- ---- entertained at Guildhall, i. 340.

Ghost, the Cock-lane, narrative of, i. 179.

Gibson, a Quaker, turbulence of, ii. 45.

Gifts, by the society for the relief of widows and children of
clergymen, i. 24.

---- of the trustees for the sons of, i. 25.

---- to British seamen who had been in slavery, i. 26, 42.

Gin, destructive effects of, i. 133, 168, 316.

---- riots occasioned by, ii. 49.

---- ludicrous description of its virtues, ii. 50.

Gladiators, female, notices of, ii. 165.

Glasses, musical, account of, ii. 226.

Goodman, a highwayman, escape of, &c. i. 103.

Gordon, Lord George, riots occasioned by, ii. 102.

Goulding, Mrs. story of supernatural acts in her house, i. 376.

Green, J. house of, besieged, ii. 91.

Grosley, M. extract from his tour to London, i. 382.

Guinea dropping, i. 91.

Halls, public, how used formerly, i. 230.

Handel, anecdotes of, ii. 213.

Harlequinades introduced, ii. 158.

Harley, Lord Mayor, notice from respecting wheat, ii. 89.

Harper, comedian, hard case of, ii. 186.

Harris, Mr. account of his dispute with Mr. Colman, ii. 257.

---- Mr. his dispute decided in Chancery, ii. 257.

Hartley, Mr. death of, ii. 54.

Hawes, Mr. meeting-house of, stormed, ii. 29.

Hell-fire club, account of the, i. 264, 268.

Hearses, stormed, ii. 45.

Highgate, cave at, suppressed, i. 100.

Hill, Ludgate, brutal acts on, ii. 55.

Hoaxing, specimens of, i. 316, 375.

Hockley-in-the-hole, account of, ii. 109.

---- presented, ii. 111.

Hospitals, observations on, i. 45, 54.

---- Foundling, i. 14.

---- Small-pox, i. 76.

---- at Hyde-park corner, instituted, i. 44.

---- Lying-in, i. 77.

Houses, dreadful state of empty, i. 58.

---- disorderly, suppressed, i. 147.

---- Gaming, particulars of, i. 295.

---- Mug, riots at, ii. 26.

---- necessary for man, ii. 358.

---- antient, in London, ii. 366.

---- fall of old, ii. 389.

---- public, too numerous, ii. 412.

Howard, John, Esq. letters from, i. 79.

Humane Society, origin of, i. 83.

Hyp Doctor, extract from, ii. 48.

Incendiaries, letters of, i. 145. ii. 195.

Infant actors censured, ii. 203.

Infirmary, established 1719, i. 25.

Impostors, singular, i. 99, 100, 132, 146, 170.

Insurance upon lives, i. 109.

---- policies of, risked on all subjects, i. 109.

---- abuse of, i. 111.

---- of lottery tickets, ii. 9.

Islington Spa, amusements at, ii. 108.

Jacobites, proceedings of, ii. 25.

Jewish marriage, splendid one, ii. 152.

Joke, practical, instance of a, i. 316.

Jones, footman, escape from justice, i. 102.

Journeymen, general manners of, ii. 409.

Justice, courts of, turbulence in, i. 330.

Kemble, Mr. first appearance of, ii. 304.

Kenrick, Dr. his school of Shakspeare, ii. 289.

Knocking at doors illustrated, i. 238.

Lambeth Wells, ii. 115, 129.

Lamps, coloured, first used, i. 255.

---- globular, patent for, ii. 380.

---- particulars concerning, ii. 381.

Law, the projector, i. 105.

---- anecdotes of, i. 106.

Lepines, de, pantomimic opera, ii. 151.

Letter from A, B, &c. to the Bishop of Bristol, i. 368.

---- incendiary, to Mr. Fleetwood, ii. 194.

Liquors, spirituous, convictions for selling of, ii. 53.

London, city of, Lying-in hospital, i. 57.

Lord Mayor, soliciting charity in the markets, i. 26.

Lotteries, tricks of proprietors of, i. 89. ii. 2.

---- State, account of, ii. 4.

---- of Deer, i. 254.

Ludgate, illumination of described, i. 297.

Macky, his summary of the customs of London, i. 272.

Maclane, Donald, trial of, for the murder of W. Allen, jun. ii. 74.

Macklin, account of his conduct in his dispute with Reddish, ii. 278.

---- his letter to Dr. Kenrick, ii. 287.

---- his attempt to perform at the age of 90, ii. 305.

Mad-houses, private, abuses in, i. 186.

Magdalen hospital, i. 56.

Managers, theatrical, parsimony of, ii. 156.

Manners, society for reformation of; effects of their labours, i. 105,
140, 152, 329.

---- anecdotes of, from M. Grosley's tour, i. 382.

Mapp, Mrs. bone-setter, account of, i. 427.

Mary, Lady, catastrophe of, ii. 122.

Mary-le-bon garden, ii. 198, 276, 289.

Masks, instance of their abuse, i. 280.

Masquerade, room used for, ii. 128.

---- given to the King of Denmark, ii. 272.

---- Mrs. Cornely's, ii. 255.

Masters of defence, presented, ii. 112.

Mead, Dr. a cheat performed on, i. 104.

Mercers, folly of, i. 235.

Milliners, Men, supersede Women, i. 359.

Milton's daughter, &c. i. 281.

Mist, his advice to the public, i. 259.

Mob, brutality of, i. 271, 385.

---- infatuation of, i. 315. ii. 55.

---- fashionable, exertions of, ii. 246.

Mohawks, account of the, ii. 20.

Money-lenders, schemes of, exposed, i. 91.

Montague, Duke of, and the bottle conjuror, ii. 201.

Moorfields, resort of Merry Andrews, ii. 146.

Mourning, court order concerning, ii. 353.

Mug-houses, ii. 27.

Music-room, Soho, opened, ii. 224.

Narrative of distress and death by famine in Stonecutter's street, i. 60.

Necromancy, by John Bonnor, i. 99.

Nectar and Ambrosia, i. 234.

Nicolini, the singer, good fortune of, ii. 138.

Oades, dreadful riot between persons of that name, i. 100.

Opera, tradesmen of the, unpaid, ii. 131.

---- notice concerning, by Mr. Clayton, &c. ii. 132.

---- house, presented by a grand jury, ii. 157.

---- ---- disputes at, ii. 170.

---- merits of the Italians, in the, ii. 173.

---- The Beggars, performed by infants, ii. 172.

---- ---- ---- condemned by Sir J. Fielding, ii. 278.

---- that of Attalo described, ii. 220.

Orange, Prince of, married, i. 297.

Oratorios, Handel's, ii. 218.

Organ, curious, ii. 199.

Owl, singular exhibition of one, ii. 194.

Palmer, Mr. comedian, considered a _Rogue_, &c. ii. 304.

Pantheon, described, and opened, ii. 276.

Parish poor, facts relative to, i. 4-9.

Patents, theatrical, particulars of, ii. 131, 148, 169, 178, 187, 188,
306.

Parties, family, customs of, i. 324.

Paul's, St. how used formerly, i. 281.

Paving, notices relating to, ii. 395.

_Peace_ pudding, account of one, i. 242.

Penkethman, account of his Pantheon, ii. 128.

---- booth of, suppressed, ii. 148.

Perfuming the person, illustrated, i. 240.

Peruke-makers, petition of, ii. 349.

Petticoat, the hooped, troublesome, ii. 321.

---- ---- ---- fair game for wits, ii. 323.

Philips, Mr. invocation by, i. 130.

Picture, moving, exhibited, ii. 126.

Pipes of the new river, tapped, i. 89.

Plate, stole at a coronation dinner, i. 92.

Plays performed at the Temple, ii. 143, 187.

Police, report of a committee on, i. 189.

Poor laws, defective, i. 45.

---- wretched lodgings of, i. 271.

Pope, burning of, in effigy, prevented, ii. 14.

---- burnt in effigy, ii. 15.

Posture master, extraordinary, ii. 129.

Press, degraded state of, i. 262.

Preston, C. killed by a bear, ii. 126.

Proclamation for suppressing vice, seconded by the public, i. 93.

---- against riots, ii. 87.

---- against improprieties on the stage, ii. 130.

---- by the Lord Mayor, ii. 87.

Prologue, spoken at Drury-lane Theatre, i. 52.

Promenade, Sunday, in Hyde-park, i. 239.

Prostitutes, whipped, i. 350.

Punch, liquid, epitaph on, ii. 50.

---- opera, by Powell, ii. 127.

Quacks, specimens of their advertisements, i. 218, 228.

Quakers, perverseness of, i. 318.

---- grand wedding of one, i. 255.

---- instance of humility in one, i. 254.

Queen Charlotte, splendid surprize of his Majesty, ii. 244.

Queensberry, Duchess of, epigram on, ii. 173.

Ranelagh, fight of _peace_ officers at, ii. 69.

---- house sold, ii. 188.

---- benefit given by proprietors of, ii. 233.

---- defects in the rotunda at, ii. 245.

Regatta, on the Thames, described, ii. 293.

Review of various charities, i. 85.

Rice, David, strange notice by, i. 338.

Rich, C. Esq. death of, ii. 137.

Riots, public, i. 266. ii. 24, 46, 54.

---- dreadful, in the Haymarket, i. 265.

---- amongst footmen, ii. 22.

---- in Craven-street, ii. 53.

---- at an undertaker's funeral, ii. 55.

---- concerning Wilkes and liberty, ii. 74.

---- of 1780, ii. 102.

Robberies, letter from Lord Townshend concerning, i. 142.

Robinson, Mrs. cheated by a pretended quack, i. 102.

Roebuck Tavern, proceedings at, ii. 23, 28.

Rogues and vagabonds, theatrically defined, ii. 183.

Royal aquatic excursion, i. 257.

Ruptured poor, hospital for, i. 49.

Sabbath, breach of, condemned, i. 353.

Sacheverell, Dr. riots during his trial, ii. 11.

Sailors, battle of, with Irish chairmen, ii. 56.

---- further violence of, ii. 70.

Schools, charity, particulars of, i. 16, 19, 29.

---- boarding, pernicious, i. 328.

Sermon Tasters, i. 235.

Sheppard, the robber, anecdotes of, ii. 31, 32.

Shopmen described, i. 235.

Signs, dangerous, ii. 392.

Sion chapel, Hampstead, weddings advertised at, i. 256.

Smock races, ii. 124, 183.

Society for relief of debtors, origin of, i. 77.

---- Loyal, proceedings of, ii. 24.

---- Benefit, origin of, ii. 5.

---- sketches of the present state of, ii. 406.

Steele, Sir R. his patent invaded, ii. 151.

Stepney feast, account of, i. 43.

Stock, South Sea, distress occasioned by the fall of, i. 118, 131.

Stone, exclusively used for palaces, ii. 361.

Streets, various obstructions in, noticed, ii. 395.

---- improved, ii. 384.

---- cleanliness of, ii. 400.

---- St. James's, humorous description of, ii. 398.

Subscription for clothing soldiers, i. 52.

Suicide, horrid narrative of, i. 149.

Sutton, poetical description of his battle with Stokes, ii. 165.

Swearing, attempt to suppress, i. 352.

Swindlers, counsellor _Tom_ and _Sir John_, i. 164.

Swords, footmen forbid to wear them, ii. 314.

Tailors, journeymen, turbulence of, ii. 90.

Term-time described in verse, i. 321.

Thames, diversions on the ice of the, ii. 140.

Theatres, particulars relating to the, i. 274. ii. 110, 186, 254.

---- presented, ii. 110.

---- impiety of, suppressed, ii. 116.

---- ragged regiments of, ii. 157.

---- Lincoln's-inn opened, ii. 138.

---- Haymarket opened, ii. 125.

---- ---- re-erected, ii. 153.

---- ---- opened, ii. 162, 172.

---- Goodman's-fields, ii. 124, 177, 179.

---- Covent-garden built, ii. 177.

---- ---- decorations of, ii. 179.

---- ---- lines to the proprietors of, ii. 180.

---- ---- riots at, ii. 196, 202, 243, 285.

---- ---- dispute concerning, ii. 257.

---- ---- improved, ii. 304.

---- Drury-lane improved, ii. 235, 292.

---- ---- alarm of fire at, ii. 171.

---- ---- admission raised, ii. 235, 306.

---- ---- riot at, ii. 236.

---- ---- rebuilt, ii. 305.

---- ---- described, ii. 309.

---- dissertation on the, ii. 247.

Theatrical trial, ii. 186.

---- consequences, ii. 189.

Tottenham-court-road, interlude there, ii. 179.

Tradesmen, fancied improvements of, i. 356.

---- manner of living in 1700, i. 230. ii. 418.

Trumpet, the use of, licensed, ii. 109.

Trunk-maker, account of the, ii. 130.

Twelfth-day, how celebrated, i. 292.

Vacation, the Lawyers, described in verse, i. 321.

Vales, custom of giving, opposed, i. 334.

Vauxhall, first notice of, ii. 178.

---- statement of the proprietors, ii. 191.

---- proposal of the proprietors, ii. 198.

---- improper conduct at, ii. 213, 246.

Vice, Society for suppression of, i. 93, 214.

Vigo, trick relating to the treasure taken there, i. 99.

Vintners, hardships of, i. 161.

Wachsel, Mr. letters of, relating to German emigrants, i. 65.

Wager, pedestrian, i. 235, 287. ii. 133.

Wales, Prince of, marriage described, i. 303.

---- ---- ---- attempt to assassinate, ii. 144.

---- Frederick, Prince of, a corporal, ii. 178.

Walpole, Sir R. beats a comedian, ii. 180.

Watchmen. See Beadle.

Watermen, vulgar jests and abuse by, i. 158, 258, 384.

Water Theatre, ii. 127.

Weavers, Spitalfields, violence of, ii. 30, 51, 59, 69, 101.

Welsh charity school, i. 15.

Wells, of the Bear-garden, epitaph on, ii. 154.

---- New Tunbridge, ii. 181.

---- Sadler's, ii. 150.

---- ---- dreadful accident at, ii. 227.

Welton, Dr. his religious assembly dispersed, ii. 29.

West, Matthew, first who divided lottery tickets, ii. 3.

Whale, skeleton of one exhibited, ii. 117.

Wife, advertising for, i. 239.

Wigs, strange method of stealing them, i. 104.

---- high price and importance of, ii. 313, 315, 318.

Wild, Jonathan, account of his villanies, ii. 41.

Wilkes, John, Esq. burning of North Briton, ii. 65.

---- ---- address of, to the freeholders of Middlesex, ii. 72.

Williams, Renwick, the _Monster_, i. 217.

Wool-combers, procession of, i. 288.

Work-house, London, statement concerning, i. 25.

---- Quaker, an example for others, i. 286.

Wren, Sir C. author of the present style of building, ii. 365.

Youth, manner of educating, i. 326.

Zeal, religious, instances of, i. 402, 423.

INDEX OF NAMES.

Abel, ii. 123.

Abington, ii. 254.

Ackman, ii. 238.

Addison, i. 243.

Albemarle, i. 310.

Aldrich, i. 183.

Alegil, i. 99.

Allen, ii. 74, 82.

Amiconi, ii. 179.

Anderson, ii. 364.

Armstrong, i. 75.

Arne, ii. 199.

Attilia, ii. 169.

Aumont, i. 19.

Austin, i. 404.

Bancroft, i. 47.

Barclay, i. 341.

Barker, ii. 170.

Barnes, ii. 122.

Barry, ii. 202.

Bartlett, i. 221.

Bartoldi, ii. 173.

Beard, ii. 238.

Becher, i. 283.

Beckford, i. 186. ii. 91.

Bedford, i. 28, 44.

Bellpine, i. 328.

Bennet, ii. 176.

Bernachi, ii. 173.

Betterton, ii. 247.

Bonnor, i. 99.

Bononcini, ii. 169.

Bononi, ii. 222.

Booth, ii. 151, 163.

Bowler, ii. 109.

Bray, i. 234.

Brittain, i. 408.

Buck, ii. 134.

Buckingham, i. 43.

Bull, i. 83.

Burges, i. 242. ii. 12.

Burlington, ii. 215.

Burton, i. 254.

Butterfield, ii. 144.

Carey, i. 27.

Carlini, ii. 223.

Carlisle, ii. 314.

Carlton, i. 217.

Case, i. 220.

Chamberlain, i. 256.

Chandos, i. 27. ii. 215.

Child, i. 89.

Chetwynd, ii. 198.

Cholmondeley, ii. 133.

Cibber, ii. 151, 186.

Clarges, ii. 184.

Clark, i. 281.

Clayton, ii. 127, 132.

Clive, ii. 228.

Cogan, i. 83.

Cole, ii. 21.

Collingwood, i. 13.

Colman, ii. 257.

Condamine, i. 385.

Coram, i. 10, 11, 12.

Cornele, ii. 152.

Cornely, ii. 255.

Cotesworth, i. 140.

Cowper, i. 130. ii. 118.

Crackenthorp, i. 235.

Cunningham, i. 263.

Cuthbeartson, i. 97.

Cuzzoni, ii. 156, 170.

Davenant, ii. 366.

Dent, i. 234.

Dimsdale, i. 395.

Dingley, i. 84. ii. 71.

Dodd, i. 84.

Doggett, i. 256. ii. 151.

Dormer, i. 102.

Dyche, i. 406.

Eddowes, i. 164.

Effingham, ii. 347.

Elderton, i. 406.

Ellis, i. 140. ii. 185.

Erasmus, ii. 375.

Esch, i. 297.

Everard, ii. 70.

Fabri, ii. 173.

Farinelli, ii. 188, 189.

Farquhar, ii. 251.

Faustina, ii. 170.

Feast, i. 20.

Fielding, i. 74, 173, 177, 189, 209, 352.

Figg, ii. 164.

Fitzgerald, i. 266.

Fleetwood, ii. 187.

Foote, ii. 300.

Fothergill, i. 82.

Francis, ii. 375.

Freeman, ii. 144.

Fuller, ii. 146.

Gage, i. 404.

Gallini, ii. 222.

Garrick, ii. 236.

Garth, ii. 125.

Gibson, ii. 45.

Giffard, ii. 177.

Giles, i. 74.

Godfrey, ii. 17.

Godolphin, i. 257.

Goodman, i. 103.

Gordon, ii. 103.

Gough, ii. 198.

Goulding, i. 376.

Grafton, i. 310. ii. 133.

Grainger, ii. 91.

Green, i. 44. ii. 91.

Grosley, i. 382.

Guy, i. 25.

Haddock, i. 44.

Hamilton, i. 423.

Handel, i. 13. ii. 151, 169, 188, 213.

Harley, ii. 88.

Harper, ii. 179, 187.

Harris, ii. 257, 306.

Harvey, ii. 179.

Hawes, i. 83, 432. ii. 29.

Hawley, i. 186.

Heath, i. 207.

Heidegger, ii. 217.

Henley, i. 415-25.

Hertford, ii. 353.

Herwig, i. 221.

Hewit, ii. 200.

Higginson, i. 335.

Hightrehight, ii. 149.

Hill, i. 74. ii. 101, 154.

Holford, i. 24.

Holland, ii. 308.

Holmes, ii. 173.

Howard, i. 79, 82.

Hyfield, ii. 155.

Inchinbroke, ii. 21.

Jackson, ii. 54.

Jacobs, i. 397.

Jacobson, i. 12.

Jennings, i. 426.

Johnston, i. 412.

Jones, i. 102, 257. ii. 108.

Kemble, ii. 304.

Kenrick, ii. 287.

Kilmanseck, i. 257. ii. 215.

King, i. 187. ii. 236.

Kingston, ii. 301.

Lambert, ii. 179.

Law, i. 105, 106.

Lee, i. 49. ii. 179.

Lewis, i. 16.

Lillie, i. 240.

Litchfield, i. 44, 404.

Macdonald, i. 188.

Macklin, ii. 254, 278, 305.

Macky, i. 272.

Maclane, ii. 74.

Mahomet, i. 26.

Mapp, i. 431.

Marlborough, i. 310.

Martin, i. 223.

Masterson, ii. 175.

Mead, i. 104, 261.

Meadows, ii. 59.

Mercer, i. 140.

Merighi, ii. 173.

Miller, ii. 134.

Mills, ii. 184.

Milner, i. 11, 140.

Milton, i. 281.

Mist, i. 259.

Montague, ii. 201.

Moody, ii. 238.

Morrisco, i. 409.

Mossop, ii. 254.

Neale, i. 36.

Neild, i. 77.

Nelson, i. 74.

Newall, i. 406.

Newcastle, i. 257, 310. ii. 24.

Nicolini, ii. 138.

Oades, i. 100.

Odell, ii. 177, 198.

Orkney, i. 257.

Palmer, i. 27. ii. 304.

Park, ii. 359.

Parker, i. 400.

Parsons, i. 179.

Paterson, i. 50.

Pattent, i. 60.

Pechy, i. 218.

Pelham, i. 310.

Penkethman, ii. 128, 148.

Percy, i. 74.

Pigeon, i. 97.

Philips, i. 130.

Pinder, i. 140.

Pingo, i. 83.

Porter, i. 218.

Potter, ii. 153.

Powel, ii. 127, 261.

Preston, ii. 126.

Puckeridge, ii. 226.

Quare, i. 255.

Queensberry, ii. 173.

Railton, i. 147.

Rainsforth, i. 195.

Reddish, ii. 278.

Rice, i. 339.

Rich, ii. 131, 137, 177, 185.

Riddle, i. 186.

Robinson, i. 102.

Rutherford, ii. 257, 268.

Sacheverell, i. 398. ii. 11, 23.

Saltero, i. 410.

Salvandoni, ii. 223.

Sayer, i. 192.

Saxe, i. 384.

Selby, ii. 321.

Senesino, ii. 183.

Sheppard, ii. 32, 177.

Sheridan, ii. 306.

Shower, ii. 26.

Simmonds, i. 414.

Smith, i. 149, 152, 401.

Southwell, i. 269.

Sparks, ii. 281.

Spencer, i. 271.

Stanton, i. 59.

Steele, i. 119. ii. 138, 151.

Stephens, i. 59. ii. 233.

Stokes, ii. 164, 170.

Strada, ii. 173.

Stringer, i. 219.

Surman, i. 61.

Sutton, i. 76. ii. 164.

Switterda, i. 327.

Sydenham, i. 90.

Talbot, ii. 323.

Taylor, i. 254.

Thanet, i. 24.

Thomas, ii. 21, 108.

Thornhill, i. 140, 225.

Thurmond, ii. 159.

Tillard, i. 140.

Townshend, i. 145.

Tutchin, ii. 124.

Turlington, i. 186.

Turner, i. 24.

Vane, i. 432.

Vaneschi, ii. 220.

Veil, de, i. 164. ii. 196.

Wachsel, i. 65, 68, 70.

Wale, ii. 245.

Wallin, i. 428.

Walpole, ii. 180.

War, de la, i. 142.

Ward, i. 407, 427.

Watkinson, i. 83.

Waugh, i. 21.

Weedon, i. 17.

Welch, i. 6. ii. 170.

Wells, ii. 154.

Welton, ii. 29.

West, ii. 3.

Wharton, i. 424.

White, i. 426.

Whitrow, ii. 59.

Whitworth, i. 4.

Wild, ii. 41.

Wilkes, i. 374. ii. 65, 71.

Wilkinson, ii. 155, 228.

Wilks, ii. 151, 185.

Williams, i. 217. ii. 107.

Wilson, ii. 55.

Winstanley, i. 242. ii. 127.

Wolsey, ii. 377.

Woodward, i. 261.

Wren, ii. 365.

Young, ii. 163.

THE END.

J. Nichols and Son, Printers, Red Lion Passage, Fleet Street, London.

Transcriber's Notes

The Index was originally printed at the end of Volume II. It has been
included in this volume for completeness.

Variations in spelling and hyphenation have been left as in the
original.

The use of apostrophes to indicate possessive case is not consistent
in the original. The placement of quotation marks is not consistent in
the original. Apostrophes and quotation marks have been left as in the
original except where noted below.

The following corrections have been made to the original text:

Page i: AUTHOR OF "LONDINIUM REDIVIVUM," &c.[original has a
comma] &c.

Page 8: _being they wanted experience_, which
business[original has "busines"]

Page 18: "[quotation mark missing in original]Lastly, the
Pope, in a glorious pageant

Page 28: "[quotation mark missing in original]As Deer upon
the rocks

Page 36: cry, '[quotation mark missing in original]Lord! what
noise is that?'

Page 41: enjoy an estate of 200_l._ a year.'[single quote
missing in original]"

Page 44: number of thieves[original has "thievse"] of every
description

Page 69: a period when riot and[original has "riotand"]
outrage

Page 91: execution of the[original has "the the"] Act of
Parliament

Page 97: I fired from the back chamber windows[entire phrase
printed twice in the original]

Page 99: 'Mr. Green, follow me;'[original has double quote]

Page 99: '[quotation mark missing in original]Don't drop a
word

Page 100: I said, '[quotation mark missing in original]I do
not care who it is;' then said he, '[quotation mark missing
in original]you will go before me;'[quotation mark missing in
original]

Page 110: presentment of the[original has "the the"] Grand
Jury

Page 115: desire of several persons of quality[original has
"qnality"]

Page 122: squires and fidlers, citizens[original has
"cizizens"] and rope-dancers

Page 124: entertainment for their loose coins[original has
"corns"]

Page 126: shilling opposite[original has "opposte"]
Cecil-street

Page 139: during the day and evening.[original has a comma]
This amusement

Page 146: had planned the[original has "tne"] firing of
Newgate

Page 155: money to lose the battle."[quotation mark missing
in original]

Page 162: characters, in the greatest[original has "geatest"]
order

Page 164: zounds thy Swans are Geese.'[original has a double
quote]

Page 165: "[quotation mark missing in original]Long was the
great Figg

Page 171: fight in the same dresses as before."[quotation
mark missing in original]

Page 186: in favour of the plaintiffs[original has
"plantiffs"]

Page 213: imagined horror of Cavalcanti's[original has
"Cavalcauti's"] bloodhounds

Page 214: that occurred in 1712, and[original has "aud"] he
composed

Page 221: "But["B" uninked in original] a dry and
circumstantial

Page 225: Dog after dog succeeding[original has "suceeding"]

Page 270: "[quotation mark missing in original]The determined
resolution of Messrs. Rutherford

Page 271: irregularity with the most silent[original has "mo
t si'ent"] contempt

Page 275: populace with 'Wilkes and Liberty.'"[single quote
missing in original]

Page 305: final rejection of it[original has "i"] by Colonel
Keen

Page 311: "[quotation mark missing in original]Here then was
a difficulty

Page 318: looped Brussels head at 30_l._"[quotation mark
missing in original]

Page 353: to promote their real welfare[353:A].'"[single
quote missing in original]

Page 365: reigns of Edward, Mary, Elizabeth[original has
"Eliza" and "beth" on separate lines without a hyphen]

Page 382: upwards of 40_l._--12_s._"[quotation mark missing
in original]

Page 408: every person endeavours[original has "endeavous"]
to enter first

Page 418: without visitors, it is governed by
greater[original has "reater"] regularity

Page 427: Coal-heavers[original has "Coalheavers"], riots by,
ii. 70.

Page 428: Doggett's[original has "Dogget's"] coat and badge
first rowed for, i. 256.

Page 431: Hearses[original has "Herses"], stormed, ii. 45.

Page 432: Letter from A,[original has a period] B, &c. to the
Bishop of Bristol, i. 368.

Page 434: Petticoat[original has "Petticoa"], the hooped,
troublesome, ii. 321

Page 439: Bellpine[original has "Belpine"], i. 328

Page 439: Bennet[original has "Bennett"], ii. 176.[last digit
illegible in original]

Page 439: Cholmondeley[original has "Cholmondly"], ii. 133.

Page 441: Newcastle, i. 257, 310. ii. 24[original has "4"]

In the Indexes, punctuation has been standardized and repeated main
entries have been removed.

*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Anecdotes of the Manners and Customs of London during the Eighteenth Century; Vol. II (of 2) - Including the Charities, Depravities, Dresses, and Amusements etc." ***

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