Social England under the Regency, Vol. 2 (of 2)

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Title: Social England under the Regency, Vol. 2 (of 2)
Author: Ashton, John
Language: English
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_SOCIAL ENGLAND._

SOCIAL ENGLAND
UNDER
_THE REGENCY_.

JOHN ASHTON,

AUTHOR OF "SOCIAL LIFE IN THE REIGN OF QUEEN ANNE," "OLD TIMES,"
"DAWN OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY," ETC.

_WITH 90 ILLUSTRATIONS._

IN TWO VOLUMES.

VOL. II.

London:
WARD AND DOWNEY,
12, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN.

MDCCCXC.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

PAGE

Anti-Corn Bill riots -- Riots in the north -- Ratification of
the Treaty of Peace with America -- Attempt to steal the Crown
-- Epithets applied to Napoleon -- The Prince of Wales' debts 1

CHAPTER II.

News of the Battle of Waterloo -- Rejoicings -- After career
of Napoleon -- His abdication and flight -- Goes on board the
_Bellerophon_ -- Arrives at Torbay -- His habits on board --
Ordered to Plymouth -- Crowds try to get a glimpse of him -- His
protest against being sent to St. Helena -- Transferred to the
_Northumberland_ -- Opinion as to the Prince Regent's conduct
towards him -- Sails for St. Helena 23

CHAPTER III.

Effects of Napoleon's capture -- The Navy in 1815 -- Margate
and Ramsgate -- French Prisoners of war -- Treaty of Peace with
France -- Napoleon's house -- A soldier's letter -- A zealous
Lord Mayor -- Hotels and clubs in 1815 51

CHAPTER IV.

1816.

Day of Thanksgiving -- "Battle for the Standard" -- Return of
the troops -- Frozen game brought over by Esquimaux -- The
Regent's practical joke -- Rejection of the Prince of Orange by
the Princess Charlotte, and acceptance of Prince Leopold as her
husband -- Her marriage -- "The R----l Whiskers" -- The Regent's
yacht 67

CHAPTER V.

Riots and agrarian outrages -- Colliers, &c., coming to London
-- "England in 1816" -- Riots in Newgate -- Marriage of the
Duke of Gloucester -- A chimney sweep's wedding -- Cruelty to a
"climbing boy" -- The Mortar at St. James's Park -- Lighting by
means of Gas -- The Coinage 89

CHAPTER VI.

Smuggling -- "Resurrection Men" -- More riots -- Orator Hunt --
Meetings at Spa Fields -- Riots arising therefrom -- Execution
of one of the rioters -- The King's health 109

CHAPTER VII.

1817.

Visit of the Grand Duke Nicholas of Russia -- Stones thrown
at the Regent -- Issue of the new Silver Coinage -- Riots and
arrests for sedition -- First issue of Sovereigns -- The Case of
Abraham Thornton and appeal by battle -- The Queen at Bath --
Death of the Princess Charlotte -- Richard Owen and his scheme
-- "The Fortunate Youth" -- "Caraboo" 133

CHAPTER VIII.

1818.

Distress among discharged Seamen -- Finding the Scotch Regalia
-- Strathfieldsaye bought for the Duke of Wellington -- The
Kyrle Society -- Royal Marriages -- Annoying the Queen --
Riotous schoolboys -- The Regent mobbed -- Death of Queen
Charlotte 161

CHAPTER IX.

1819.

Sale of the Queen's effects -- Duke of York has custody of the
King -- The "Dandy horse" -- Loss of, and finding the King's
jewellery -- A public dinner -- A Royal freak -- Unqualified
medical practitioners -- Emigration to America -- "The fair
Circassian" -- Birth of Queen Victoria -- Napoleon's carriage
-- An Irish witness 171

CHAPTER X.

Reform Meetings -- Peterloo -- Orator Hunt's entry into London
-- The King's last illness and death 203

CHAPTER XI.

A foreigner's view of England -- The packets -- Roads -- People
-- Posting -- Mail and Stage Coaches -- Amateur coachmen -- Fast
driving -- Perils of travelling -- A lioness attacks the Mail --
Dog-carts and donkey-riding -- The Streets and Houses 215

CHAPTER XII.

London improvements -- The Country -- Gleaning -- Dairying and
out-door Washing -- The Gipsy 245

CHAPTER XIII.

Ladies' dresses -- The Dandizette -- Waltzing -- The Quadrille
-- Almack's -- Women's education -- Women's work -- Women
Soldiers and Sailors -- Female rowing match -- Female pedestrian
-- Gretna Green Marriages -- Some curious marriages 277

CHAPTER XIV.

The Man of the period -- Drinking habits -- Dandies -- Lord
Petersham -- A Dandy's diary -- Gaming -- Prize fighting --
Country Sports 303

CHAPTER XV.

Eating and drinking -- Recipe for Punch -- The Stage -- Baron
Geramb -- Romeo Coates -- Actors and Actresses -- Mrs. Jordan 327

CHAPTER XVI.

The Italian Opera -- An uproar -- Catalani and her terms
-- Vauxhall -- Musical prodigy -- Painters, Sculptors, Art
exhibitions -- Literature and writers -- Bibliomaniacs -- George
Bidder, the Calculating boy -- Musicians -- Medical men -- The
Clergy -- Roman Catholic emancipation -- Joanna Southcott 347

INDEX 371

ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOL. II.

PAGE

RECRUITING 15

"ANSWER TO JOHN BULL'S COMPLAINT" 19

BONAPARTE ON THE QUARTER-DECK OF H. M. S. _NORTHUMBERLAND_ 36

BOXIANA; OR, THE FANCY 48

"A SINGLE LIFE ON THE CONTINENT, STARVING ON SOUR KROUT!!" 79

"COMES TO ENGLAND, IS MADE A GENERAL," &c. 80

"R----L WHISKERS," 1816 84

HENRY HUNT, ESQ. 117

"THE NEW COINAGE; OR, JOHN BULL'S VISIT TO MAT OF THE MINT!!" 138

"A PEEP INTO THE PUMP ROOM; OR, THE ZOMERSETSHIRE FOLK IN A
MAZE," OCTOBER, 1817 147

ROBERT OWEN, AUGUST 21, 1817 151

"SALES BY AUCTION! OR, PROVIDENT CHILDREN DISPOSING OF THEIR
DECEASED MOTHER'S EFFECTS FOR THE BENEFIT OF THEIR CREDITORS!" 174

"MAKING MOST OF £10,000 PER AN." 177

"THE HOBBY HORSE DEALER" 180

"THE LADY'S ACCELERATOR" 183

"HIGH LIFE BELOW STAIRS!!" 189

MASSACRE AT ST. PETER'S; OR, "BRITONS, STRIKE HOME!!!" 207

GEORGE III. 211

MARKET WOMEN 217

THE WAGGON 220

THE POST CHAISE 223

THE MAIL COACH 226

SOWING BROADCAST 250

USING THE FLAIL 250

THE PLOUGH 251

THE FARM LABOURER 254

GLEANERS 255

DAIRY FOLK 258

WASHING CLOTHES 259

MOUNTED BUTCHER BOY 262

THE GIPSIES 263

WALKING COSTUME. 1812 270

LADIES' HEAD-DRESS 271

NO. 1 AND 2, 1811; NO. 3, 1812; NO. 4 AND 5, 1813 274

NO. 1 AND 2, 1814; NO. 3 AND 4, 1815 275

FASHIONABLES OF 1816 TAKING THE AIR IN HYDE PARK 279

BELLES AND BEAUS; OR, A SCENE IN HYDE PARK, AUGUST 12, 1817 282

A DANDYESS, 1819 283

WALTZING 286

AT THE SPINNING-WHEEL 291

MAKING PILLOW LACE 294

MILK WOMAN 295

CONVIVIALITY 306

A PORTRAIT (LORD PETERSHAM) 309

LORD PETERSHAM. 1815 312

DANDY ON HORSEBACK 313

A DANDY 316

PLAYING AT BOWLS AND QUOITS 324

LOTHARIO, AS PERFORMED BY MR. COATES AT THE HAYMARKET THEATRE,
DECEMBER 9, 1811 337

A CLOWN AND A GRASSHOPPER 345

A PHYSICIAN 361

TWO OPPOSITE CHARACTERS 364

SOCIAL ENGLAND UNDER THE REGENCY.

CHAPTER I.

Anti-Corn Bill riots -- Riots in the north -- Ratification of
the Treaty of Peace with America -- Attempt to steal the Crown
-- Epithets applied to Napoleon -- The Prince of Wales' debts.

At home our domestic peace was seriously interrupted at this time.
Doubtless, with a view to assuage the agricultural distress, a
measure was proposed, prohibiting the importation of corn, except
when it had reached a price considered by the great body of the
consumers as exorbitant. This, having once tasted comparatively cheap
bread (the quartern loaf was then about 1s.), his Majesty's lieges
did not like, and meetings against it were held all over the place,
and Resolutions passed, the first of which is as follows, the others
all hingeing upon it:--

"1. _Resolved._ That it is the opinion of the Committee, that any
sort of Foreign Corn, Meal, or Flour, which may, by law, be imported
into the United Kingdom, shall, at all times, be allowed to be
brought to the United Kingdom, and to be warehoused there, without
payment of any duty whatever."

The Mob, in those days, were even more unthinking than they are now,
and, whilst the respectable portion of the community were agitating
in a legitimate manner, they _acted_, according to their lights.

On the 6th of March many groups assembled near the Houses of
Parliament, about the usual time of meeting, and the Lobby and
avenues of the House were so crowded, that it was necessary to
increase the force of constables, who ultimately cleared them. Those
ejected stood on the steps, and cheered, or groaned, at the Members
as they passed in; then they took to stopping Members' carriages,
making them walk through a hissing and hooting crowd, and gradually
went from bad to worse.

There were no police, as we know them, in those days--that is, there
was no large body of stalwart, well-drilled men--consequently,
whenever there was a riot, the Military had the task assigned to them
of putting it down. They drove the people away from the House, but
only to go elsewhere, and, no longer having the fear of the soldiery
before their eyes, they gave unlimited scope to their powers of
destruction.

They began at Lord Eldon's, in Bedford Square; tore down his
railings, with which they forced an entrance into his house, smashed
the windows, and all the furniture they could get at. At Mr.
Robinson's, who introduced the Corn Regulations, they tore up his
railings, got into his house, smashed some of his furniture, throwing
the rest into the street, and destroyed many valuable pictures.
At Lord Darnley's, Mr. Yorke's, and Mr. Wellesley Pole's, all the
windows were smashed. Lord Hardwicke's house was attacked, but little
mischief was done, owing to the arrival of the Military. They went
to Lord Ellenborough's, but he behaved bravely; he opened the door,
and, standing before them, inquired into the meaning of it all. They
yelled at him that it was "No Corn Bill! No Corn Bill!" upon which he
spoke a few words to them, and they cheered, and left him. There were
the Horse Guards and three regiments of Foot Guards under orders; but
they were scarcely made use of, and that only in the most pacific
manner.

Next day (the 7th) they met, in the same manner, near the Houses of
Parliament, and, when driven thence, went forth to seek what they
could devour, but the Military were abroad, parading the streets,
and guarding each house that had been wrecked. The rioters paid
another visit to Mr. Robinson's, and seeing no signs of soldiers,
thought they could throw stones at the shutters with impunity. They
reckoned, however, without their host, for the soldiers were inside
the house, from which seven shots were fired, one of the Mob falling
dead, shot through the head. He was not identified, but was believed
to have been a naval officer.

This was too warm to be pleasant, so they went to Baker Street, where
the brave fellows smashed the doors and windows, and tore up the iron
railings, at the house of Sam. Stephens, Esq., late M.P. for St.
Ives, the said house being then under the solitary care of an elderly
female. Then these heroes, animated by their last exploit, tried to
wreck No. 38, Harley Street, the house of an inoffensive lady, named
Sampson, broke the windows of two houses in Wimpole Street, and three
in Mansfield Street, Portland Place. The excitement spread to the
City, and a Mob collected in Finsbury, whence they valiantly marched
to Chiswell Street, where they broke a few windows at Whitbread's
Brewery.

The next night, the 8th, the riots were continued, but were rather
worse. The Mob was charged once by the Military, and dispersed, only
to form again in another place. It was time that something should
be done, and _le Roi fainéant_ at Carlton House woke up, and on the
9th issued a long proclamation all about the wickedness of rioting,
and offering £100 reward on conviction of any of the rioters. But
the thing was wearing itself out, and on this day nothing worthy the
name of a riot took place, except when they broke the windows at the
house of Mr. Davies Giddy, M.P. for Bodmin, who retaliated by firing
on the Mob, whereby a boy was wounded in the neck. But there were
more Military about this day, which may account for its comparative
quiet, and Lord Sidmouth, as Home Secretary, had issued a Circular
to every parish in the Metropolis, urging them to take individual
action in suppressing the riots, each in its own locality. There was
an attempt to get up a riot in Canterbury, but no mischief was done,
except a few broken windows, and it was promptly quelled.

About the same time in March there were more serious riots occurring
at the seaports at Durham and Northumberland, among the sailors
employed in the Colliery trade. They wanted an increase of wages,
and they did not like the introduction of machinery, fearing that
it would interfere with their livelihood. Take one instance, as an
example.

"March 20. A serious riot took place at Bishop Wearmouth, near
Durham. It appears that Messrs. Neshams, the extensive coal-dealers
of that place, have been for several years busily employed in
erecting railways, and other conveniences, to save the labour of
men and horses in conveying coals from the pit. The keel men, who
are employed to convey the coals in boats or barges, had, it seems,
taken offence at these improvements; and this afternoon, having
first moored their barges opposite Messrs. Neshams' premises, they
proceeded, in a riotous manner, to demolish their works. After
completing the destruction of the most expensive and valuable part of
the waggon road, which was the object of their animosity, they set
fire to an immense pile of coals, which burned with great fury during
the whole night, presenting a grand and awful spectacle for many
miles round. The rioters previously overpowered all the proprietors,
and their friends, who had assembled to repress the tumult. Mr.
Robinson, the Collector of the Customs, Mr. Biss, and several other
gentlemen of respectability, were repeatedly knocked down and
bruised. It was three o'clock the next morning before the rioters
were dispersed by the arrival of the military."[1]

[Footnote 1: The Corn Bill passed the Commons on the 10th
of March, and the Lords on the 20th.]

On the Tyne, the sailors, and keel men took possession of the river,
making a chain of boats right across it, and they would not allow a
vessel to pass without a regular permit. The efforts of the local
magistrates, and conciliatory propositions from the merchants,
proving insufficient to restore obedience, whilst the sailors in
other ports were also manifesting a disposition to combine for
similar purposes, Government determined to interpose with effect,
in order to quell this dangerous spirit. A strong force, both Naval
and Military, was collected at the disturbed ports, which was so
judiciously applied, that no resistance was attempted on the part
of the sailors, and their coercive system was immediately broken
up. Reasonable offers were then made to them, and tranquility was
restored. Not a life was lost, and only a few of the ringleaders were
apprehended.

The ratification of the Treaty of Peace with America arrived in
London on the 13th of March, and created no comment. The main points
in this treaty are contained in Article 1, of which the following is
a portion:--"... All hostilities, both on sea and land, shall cease
as soon as this Treaty shall have been ratified by both parties
hereinafter mentioned. All territory, places, and possessions
whatsoever, taken by either party from the other during the war, or
which may be taken after the signing of this Treaty, excepting only
the Islands hereinafter mentioned, shall be restored without delay,
and without causing any destruction, or carrying away any of the
artillery, or other public property, originally captured in the said
forts or places, and which shall remain therein upon the exchange
of the ratification of this Treaty, or any slaves, or other private
property. And all archives, records, deeds, and papers, either of
a public nature, or belonging to private persons, which, in the
course of the war, may have fallen into the hands of the officers of
either party, shall be, as far as practicable, forthwith restored,
and delivered to the proper authorities and persons to whom they
respectively belong."

Article 2 provides for cessation of hostilities.

Article 3 for the exchange of prisoners.

Article 4 deals with the Islands and boundaries in dispute, and
appointed two Commissioners, one on each side, to settle them.

Articles 5, 6, 7, and 8 relate to the boundaries, and powers of the
Commissioners.

Article 9 relates to making peace between the Indians, on both sides.

Article 10 provides for the joint abolition of the slave trade.

Why the American prisoners were not released, on receipt of the
Ratification of the Treaty, I cannot say, but that they were not is
evidenced by the fact that, on the 6th of April, those confined at
Dartmoor attempted to escape; having armed themselves with knives,
they attacked their guards, who in self-defence fired on them,
killing seven of the prisoners, and wounding thirty-five. A coroner's
jury brought in a verdict of "justifiable homicide."

The following story is best told by the Police Report:--

"ATTEMPT TO STEAL THE CROWN FROM THE TOWER.

"LAMBETH POLICE OFFICE.[2] Yesterday (_5th April_) MARGARET
MOORE was brought before Sir Daniel Williams, and underwent a
second examination, charged with an attempt to steal the King's
Crown from the Tower, on Friday, the 31st March last.

"Elizabeth Eloisa Stackling, Deputy Keeper of the regalia in
the Tower, deposed, that about one o'clock in the afternoon
mentioned, the prisoner came, and asked to see the regalia--the
usual charge for such exhibition is eighteenpence, but the
prisoner, having offered her a shilling, and she, supposing her,
from her appearance, to be a soldier's wife, consented to take
it. She proceeded to show her the regalia in the usual way,
until she came to the last article, the Crown. This is contained
in a case, and is never taken out; she opened the case, and held
it with both hands, on the ledge of a table, except when she was
obliged to disengage one hand, and point out particular jewels.
She had just been describing the _aqua-marine_, a jewel of great
value, when the prisoner stared, and in an instant thrust her
hand through the centre bar of the railings, or grating placed
there, and, seizing hold of the centre bow of the Crown, pulled,
with great violence, to draw it forth.

"Witness put her hand at the top of the bow, and bottom of the
Crown, to preserve it, while the prisoner kept struggling,
with still greater violence, to get it away. The struggling
continued for about five minutes, and she, at length, got the
Crown from her grasp. She, then, put the Crown at a distance
behind her, and instantly slipped the bolt of the entrance,
secured the prisoner, and called for assistance. When help was
obtained, she sent for the Governor, but the Ward-keeper having
come in, a Constable was also sent for, who soon arrived, and
took the prisoner into Custody. She was searched, and about £5
in money was found upon her; there were also some papers. In the
struggle between the witness and the prisoner, there were two
bows of the Crown broken from the socket; a string of pearls
was also broken, which rolled upon the floor, some inside the
railing, and some outside, where the prisoner was. They were
subsequently picked up by the witness, assisted by the Governor.

"The prisoner, being called upon for her defence, said that she
was a single woman, residing at No. 3, Union Street, Apollo
Gardens; she was a milk woman, and had a girl of about thirteen
years of age, her daughter, residing with her; she was a widow,
her husband, who was a labouring man, had been dead about eleven
years; is not acquainted with a soldier, nor was she ever in
company with one, nor had she been to the Tower in her life
before the day in question. Being asked by the magistrate why
she came so far from home, she replied she very often went to
Thames Street to buy salt herrings.

"Then, said the Magistrate, what induced you to go to the Tower?

"_A._ I went on Friday, purposely to see the lions, no one was
with me--I then went to see the Crown.

"_Q._ How came you to snatch that article from the keeper?

"_A._ I thought it a pity that so valuable a thing should remain
there, while half the nation was starving, for want of bread! I
wished, also, at the time, to take the whole of what was there,
and give it to the public!

"_Q._ Who told you to do this, or who was it put that good
thought into your head?

"_A._ I had no adviser whatever.

"Jeremiah Brett, one of the Chief Constables, deposed to having
taken the prisoner into custody. When he was conveying her away
in the Coach, he asked her why she had made an attempt to seize,
or lay hands on the Crown, and why she might not as well have
laid hold of one of the lions? She replied--she was not such a
fool, for she knew better than that.

"Upon being asked by the Magistrate to state a little more
particularly who she was, she said she was a Welsh woman,
from the county of Carmarthen, and had been brought up in the
principles of the Church of England. About ten years ago she
purchased some ground from Mr. Henry Hooper, of Apollo Gardens;
and, about five years ago, built a small house, in which she
lives, and which has already cost her £110. She was to have paid
£150. Her other houses and property were stolen from her by
ejectments, executions, &c., and her losses amounted, at least,
to £500. She never had any idea of stealing the Crown, until she
saw it, and was only impelled by the motive already stated. Does
not recollect that she ever thought of providing for the poor
until then.

"Mr. Swift, the Keeper of the Jewels in the Tower, was then
called, but it was stated that he was out of town, and would not
return before Saturday, or Monday.

"The evidence of this witness, however, being deemed necessary,
the Prisoner was remanded for a final examination."

[Footnote 2: Lambeth Street, Whitechapel, removed to Arbour
Square, Stepney, and now called the Thames Police Office.]

On Tuesday, April 11th, she was again examined, but a number of
persons attended, who had known her for many years, and, as their
unvarying testimony was that she was mentally deranged, she was
discharged.

Whilst on the subject of the Regalia I may mention the following,
which is taken from _The Gentleman's Magazine_, May 19, 1814: "An
interesting discovery has lately been made by the Keeper of the
Regalia in the Tower. In cleaning out some secret places in the Jewel
Office, a Royal Sceptre was found, equalling in splendour, and in
value, the others which are there exhibited. It is imagined, from the
decayed state of its case, and the dust wherewith it was enveloped,
that the Sceptre must have been thrown into that neglected corner,
in the confusion of Blood's well-known attempt on the Crown Jewels,
nearly a century and a half ago."

The war on the Continent was going on, but though it does not come
within my province to narrate its progress, I may mention some _bon
mots_, which being produced here, belong to the social life of the
period.

ON LOUIS LE DÉSIRÉ.

"The Paris folks, when I inquired
If Louis really was 'desired,'
'We had (said they), but one desire,
That Master Louis should--_retire_.'"

A CONVERSATION BETWEEN TWO GENSDARMES, MODELLED ON _THE TIMES_.

"_First Gensdarme._ What is the news?"
"_Second Gensdarme._ _Ma foi!_ the news is short.
_The Tiger_ has broken out of his den.
_The Monster_ was three days at sea.
_The Wretch_ has landed at Frejus.
_The Brigand_ has arrived at Grenoble.
_The Invader_ has entered Lyons.
_Napoleon_ slept last night at Fontainbleau.
_The Emperor_ enters the Thuilleries this day."

Here are some of the names by which he was assailed by _The Times_:

The Tyrant.
The impious tyrant.
The flagitious tyrant.
The wretched tyrant.
The Corsican tyrant.
The wretch.
The impious wretch.
The Corsican.
The impious Corsican.
The rebellious Corsican.
The usurper.
The Corsican usurper.
The homicide.
The impious homicide.
The Outlaw.
The Corsican outlaw.
The infamous outlaw.
The perjured outlaw.
The impious outlaw.
The rebel.
The perjured rebel.
The traitor.
The perjured traitor.
The Brigand.
The Thief.
The Robber.
The Murderer.
The Tiger.
The Monster.
The Villain.
The Criminal.
The notorious Criminal.
The Prisoner.
The Assassin.
The Incendiary.
The Impostor.
The bloody and perjured chief, &c.

This man of many names gave us much trouble just at this time. Lulled
in false security, everything was being put on a peace footing, only
to be brought again to its old dimensions, and Sergeant Kite was once
more abroad, and active.

A few disjointed _ana_ must fill up the time until we come to the
next halting stage of history--the Battle of Waterloo.

[Illustration: Recruiting (_Geo. Walter. del. Jan. 1, 1814._).]

Of course London has vastly increased in population since 1815, and
Visitors come by rail, or steamboat, from all parts of the earth,
but the difference in the number of visitors to the British Museum
in one year, is very marked. In the year ending March 25, 1815,
they amounted to 33,074; in that ending Dec. 31, 1889, to 504,537,
and this does not include the visitors to the Natural History
Department, at South Kensington, which, although removed from the
parent building, is part of the Institution, and is governed by the
same trustees.

The Prince of Wales was utterly reckless in his expenditure, he put
no kind of curb to his extravagance, and left no whim ungratified.
The consequence was he was again fearfully in debt.

"THE CIVIL LIST.

"'John Bull,' exclaims old NICK, 'pray mind,
The Civil List is now behind:'
'Good Lord!' cried JOHN, 'why, what a bore,
It was _behind_, you know, _before_.'"

Here is a list of the Prince of Wales's debts:

Debts 1787 £161,020
Debts 1795 640,080
--------
801,100

Debts paid in three years to Feb., 1815, from
Extraordinary Allowances to the Prince 150,000

Sum granted for outfit Feb., 1812, and applied
to debts 100,000

Paid from Droits of Admiralty, 1813 39,000

Paid from Feb., 1815, to May, 1815, one q{r} of
£50,000 12,500

Paid in three years from Duchy of Cornwall to
Feb., 1815 39,000

Known to be remaining unpaid May, 1815 339,000
-------
Total of debts contracted by the Prince £1,480,600
----------

The Newspaper from which this is taken goes on to say: "The public
will see, by this statement, how unavailing all engagements, and
all Acts of Parliament hitherto passed, have been to prevent the
system of incurring debts; but the distresses of the country now
demand some effective prohibitory checks, and we trust Parliament
will not separate without supplying them; although from the vote for
the payment of the Russian debts, for the reduction of Guadaloupe,
and the aids to Holland, there is too much reason to fear that the
Senate, and the public, entertain different views as to the necessity
of economy, and that the public must encounter the awful trial of a
protracted system of profusion and prodigality."

"The statement of the debts was extracted from the Journals of
Parliament, and when £339,000 was described as the _known_ excess
still due, the term _known_ was certainly used to signify _avowal_,
but not to embrace the _total_, for there is great reason to believe
that treble £339,000, would not release the Prince Regent from his
pecuniary embarrassments."

[Illustration: "Answer to John Bull's Complaint."]

Needless to say, the satirical artists seized upon the occasion, and
I reproduce one picture called "Answer to John Bull's Complaint." As
may be perceived from his dress, poor John is reduced to a pitiable
plight, and he has laid his case before the Regent. To him "the first
Gentleman in Europe" replies, "Why! you unnatural Grumbler! after
I have done all I could to get rid of your Money, you still grumble?
Did I not give you a _Fête_? Did I not build you a _Bridge_? Did I
not treat you to a smell of all the nice things at my _Feast_? Did I
not sign the _Corn Bill_? Did I not refuse your _Address_? Have I not
drunk whole Pipes of Wine, for fear it should be wasted? Have I not
spent all your Money, because you should not spend it yourself? Have
you not got the Income Tax to keep you sober? and, as for your Dress,
the thinner the better for the summer season. So, Johnny, go home to
work, 'tis all for the good of your Country."

CHAPTER II.

At a quarter past eleven on the night of the 21st of June, the Hon.
Major Percy arrived at the office of Earl Bathurst, Secretary of
State for War--bearing despatches from the Duke of Wellington dated
the 19th, giving an account of the actions which had taken place
since the 15th, and including the Battle of Waterloo. Earl Bathurst
opened the despatches, and he and their bearer immediately waited,
with them, upon the Prince Regent. The Lord Mayor had notification
of the great Victory early in the morning of the 22nd, and the guns
of the Tower, and St. James's Park thundered forth their salute of
gratulation. The funds went up with a bound, _Omnium_ vibrated
between a rise of 8 to 10 per cent. and left off 8-1/8 per cent.
higher.

The following placard was posted up:--

"MANSION HOUSE, _Thursday, June 22, 1815_.

"Notice having been given that the Public Offices will be
illuminated Friday and Saturday evening next, in consequence of
the late glorious Victory,

"The Lord Mayor recommends to the inhabitants of this City to
defer illuminating their houses till that time."

And, accordingly, on the 23rd, all the Government, and City public
offices lit up; but it does not seem to have been a very grand
illumination, probably because the time for preparation was somewhat
short.

After the battle of Waterloo,[3] Napoleon hastened to Paris; and,
tired, and covered with dust as he was, he immediately met his
Ministers, and told them the extent of his disasters. They laid the
intelligence before the Houses of Legislature, and, on the morning
of June 22nd, Napoleon received a deputation from the Chamber,
who submitted to him, that "the state of war in which France was
involved, concerned much less the nation than himself, and that the
Assembly had the means at command, if he would act so disinterested
a part, as to restore to it freedom of action, according as
circumstances might dictate."

[Footnote 3: From this time until Napoleon sailed for
St. Helena, I quote, sometimes at length, from my book,
"English Caricature and Satire on Napoleon I.," because I
then wrote, thoroughly imbued with the subject, and with
every authority at hand--I can do no more now, than to add
a little to it.--J. A.]

This was a pretty broad hint to Napoleon to abdicate, and he took it
as such, and sent the following reply:--

"Frenchmen! When I began the war to uphold National
Independence, I relied on the union of all efforts, all
wills, and on the co-operation of all national authorities. I
was justified in anticipating success, and I braved all the
declarations of the Powers against my person. Circumstances
seem to be changed. I offer myself as a sacrifice to the hatred
against France. May your enemies prove sincere, and may it
appear that they wage war against me alone! My political life
is terminated. I proclaim my son, under the title of Napoleon
II.,[4] Emperor of the French. The present Ministers will form
the Council of the Provisional Government. The interest which I
take in my son induces me to invite the Chambers to organize a
Regency without delay, by a special law. Unite for the general
safety, and to secure national independence.

"NAPOLEON.

"At the Palace of the Élysée, June 22, 1815."

[Footnote 4: This title was never recognized by the French
_Nation_ until the assumption of Imperial dignity by
Louis--under the title of Napoleon III.]

But the Ministry did not see it in the same light, the building
was rapidly crumbling, and it was _sauve qui peut_ with the rats.
Napoleon was politically dead, and even _The Times_ must needs kick
him.

"June 30. 1815.... The wretch, with the blood of so many
thousands on his head, seemed to carry about with him all
the coolness of that apathy which is part of his physical
constitution; and, so degraded and demoralized are the Parisian
populace, that they could see the butcher of their race without
the least emotion. He is, however, spoken of in the journals,
and in the debates, without any share of that respect which was
but lately attached to his name. After his former abdication
he was invariably termed the 'Emperor,' but now he is called
nothing but 'Napoleon.'"

Abdication is a game that cannot be played more than twice, the
result, then, being considered final, so Napoleon retired to
Malmaison, virtually a prisoner, for he had not been there long ere
General Becker came to him, and informed him that he was appointed
by the Provisional Government to command the troops detailed for his
protection. Napoleon knew the meaning of this message, but even being
made a prisoner by his own soldiery did not quell his spirit.

The presence of Napoleon at Malmaison embarrassed the Government,
and Becker had orders to convey Napoleon, with all speed, to the
Isle of Aix. Accordingly, they set out, and reached Rochefort on the
3rd of July, where he remained until the 8th, when he embarked on
board the _Saale_ frigate, but without any hope of getting to sea,
because of the blockade of the port by the _Bellerophon_ and other
English men-of-war. He occasionally landed on the Isle of Aix; but
all hopes of reaching America seems to have been abandoned, as Las
Cases and Savary were sent on board the _Bellerophon_ to inquire of
Captain Maitland whether he knew anything of the passports which
Napoleon expected from the British Government, and whether any
opposition would be offered to his sailing to the United States.
Captain Maitland replied that he knew nothing of the intentions of
his Government, but he, certainly, could not allow any ship of war to
leave the port, and, in the course of conversation asked, "Why not
seek an asylum in England?"

The hint, thus dropped, fructified; for, after another visit of Las
Cases and General Lallemand on board the _Bellerophon_, on July
14th, avowedly to repeat their various questions, the matter was
openly discussed, and, on mentioning the result of their interview
to the Emperor, he agreed to this course, and desired Las Cases to
tell Captain Maitland to prepare to receive him, and his suite, the
next day. At the same time, he entrusted General Gourgaud with an
autograph letter to the Prince Regent, directing him to take it to
England, and deliver it into the Prince's hands.

From the date of this letter, which was the 13th, it would seem that
Napoleon had, on the previous day, made up his mind what course to
pursue. The following is the text of the letter:--

"YOUR ROYAL HIGHNESS,--Exposed to the factions which divide
my Country, and to the enmity of the greatest Powers of
Europe, I have terminated my political career; and I come,
like Themistocles, to throw myself upon the hospitality of the
British People. I place myself under the protection of their
laws, which I claim from your Royal Highness, as the most
powerful, the most constant, and the most generous of my enemies.

NAPOLEON.

"ROCHEFORT, _July 13, 1815_."

On the 15th, then, Napoleon and suite went on board the
_Bellerophon_, where they were received by Captain Maitland and his
officers; the Emperor saying, "I have come to throw myself on the
protection of your Prince and Laws." He was treated on board the
_Bellerophon_ with every consideration by Captain Maitland. He was
still looked upon as Emperor, and dined off his own gold plate, the
dinner being ordered by his own _maître d'hôtel_; and, when he
visited the _Superb_, he was received with all the honours accorded
to royalty, with the exception of a salute being fired. On the 16th
of July they set sail for England, and at daybreak on the 24th they
were close to Dartmouth. Napoleon rose at six, and went on the poop,
surveying the coast, which he much admired, exclaiming, "What a
beautiful country! it very much resembles Porto Ferrajo at Elba."

About 8 a.m. they anchored at Torbay, and no sooner was it known that
Napoleon was on board the _Bellerophon_, than the bay was covered
with vessels and boats full of people. A neighbouring gentleman sent
the Emperor a present of fruit. What a different reception from the
language of _The Times_! (July 25, 1815):

"Our paper of this day will satisfy the sceptics, for such there were
beginning to be, as to the capture of that bloody miscreant, who has
so long tortured Europe, NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE. Savages are always
found to unite the greatest degree of cunning to the ferocious part
of their nature. The cruelty of this person is written in characters
of blood in almost every country in Europe, and in the contiguous
angles of Africa and Asia which he visited; and nothing can more
strongly evince the universal conviction of his low, perfidious
craft, than the opinion, which was beginning to get abroad, that,
even after his capture had been officially announced, both in France
and England, he might yet have found means to escape.

"However, all doubts upon this point are at an end, by his arrival
off the British Coast, and, if he be not now placed beyond the
possibility of again outraging the peace of Europe, England will
certainly never again deserve to have heroes such as those who have
fought, and bled, at Waterloo, for this, his present overthrow. The
lives of the brave men who fell on that memorable day will have been
absolutely thrown away by a thoughtless country, the grand object
obtained by their valour will have been frustrated, and we shall do
little less than insult over their remains, almost before they have
ceased to bleed. But Fortune, seconding their undaunted efforts, has
put it in our power to do far otherwise.

"Captain Sartorius, of the _Slaney_ frigate, arrived yesterday with
despatches from Captain Maitland of the _Bellerophon_, confirming
all the antecedent accounts of Buonaparte's surrender, with various
other details, and closing them by their natural catastrophe--his
safe conveyance to England. He is, therefore, what we may call,
here. Captain Sartorius delivered his despatches to Lord Melville,
at Wimbledon, by whom their contents were communicated to Lord
Liverpool, at his seat at Coombe Wood; summonses were immediately
issued for a Cabinet Council to meet at 12 o'clock; what passed
there was, of course, not suffered to transpire; our narrative must
therefore revert to the _Slaney_ frigate, and the accounts brought
by her. She had been sent forward, by Captain Maitland, to Plymouth,
with the despatches announcing that Buonaparte was on board the
_Bellerophon_, with a numerous suite. But it was the intention of
Captain Maitland himself, to proceed to Torbay, and not land his
prisoners until he had received orders from Government.

"Buonaparte's suite, as it is called, consists of upwards of forty
persons, among whom are Bertrand, Savary, Lallemand, Grogau,[5] and
several women. He has been allowed to take on board carriages and
horses, but admission was denied to about fifty cavalry, for whom he
had the impudence to require accommodation. This wretch has really
lived in the commission of every crime, so long, that he has lost all
sight and knowledge of the difference that exists between good and
evil, and hardly knows when he is doing wrong, except he be taught
by proper chastisement. A creature--who ought to be greeted with
a gallows as soon as he lands--to think of an attendance of fifty
horsemen! He had, at first, wanted to make conditions with Captain
Maitland, as to his treatment, but the British officer very properly
declared that he must refer him, upon this subject, to his Government.

[Footnote 5: General Gourgaud.]

"When he had been some time on board, he asked the Captain what
chance two large frigates, well manned, would have with a
seventy-four. The answer, we understand, which he received to this
inquiry, did not give him any cause to regret that he had not risked
his fortune in a naval combat, with the relative forces in question.
By the way, we should not have been surprised if he had come into an
action with the two frigates, and then endeavoured to escape in his
own, and leave the other to her fate. It has been the constant trick
of this villain, whenever he has got his companions into a scrape, to
leave them in it, and seek his own safety by flight. In Egypt, in the
Moscow expedition, and at Waterloo, such was his conduct.

"He likewise had the assurance to address a letter to the Prince
Regent, and M. Grogau, one of his party, was put on board the
_Slaney_ as the bearer of it; but, when the vessel reached Plymouth,
the officer on duty there, with a decision that does him credit,
refused Grogau permission to land: the letter is said to have been
conveyed by Captain Sartorius, and its purport was understood, on
board, to be a request for passports for America. We should have
supposed that he had received too many checks before, for his
presumption in addressing letters to the British Government, ever
to have hazarded the experiment again; but all reproofs are thrown
away upon his callous heart;--not that we should object to his humbly
addressing the British throne for mercy, if he has anything to urge
in extenuation of his crimes; but the time has not yet come; a
momentary gleam of resolution on the part of his own government,
indicated by the imprisonment of Labédoyère, and others, led us to
hope that his trial might have been safely entrusted to those to whom
it primarily, and of natural right, belongs; but, though this hope
may have proved transitory, he is not, therefore, above the criminal
justice of other countries, where established law, and a regular
execution of it, prevails.

"The first procedure, we trust, will be a special Commission, or the
appointment of a Court Martial to try him for the murder of Captain
Wright. It is nonsense to say, as some have, that Courts Martial are
instituted only to try offences committed by soldiers of the country
to which they belong: it was an American Court Martial that tried
and shot Major André as a spy; and Buonaparte himself appointed
commissions of all kinds, and in all countries, to try offences
committed against himself."

In a letter from on board the _Bellerophon_, Napoleon's _personel_ is
thus described:

"I observed his person particularly, and can describe him thus:--He
is about 5 feet 7 inches in height, very strongly made, and well
proportioned; very broad and deep chest; legs and thighs proportioned
with great symmetry and strength, a small, round, and handsome foot.
His countenance is sallow, and, as it were, deeply tinged by hot
climates; but the most commanding air I ever saw. His eyes grey, and
the most piercing you can imagine. His glance, you fancy, searches
into your inmost thoughts. His hair dark brown, and no appearance
of grey. His features are handsome now, and when younger, he must
have been a very handsome man. He is rather fat, and his belly
protuberant, but he appears active, notwithstanding. His step, and
demeanour altogether commanding. He looks about 45 or 46 years of
age. In fact, he is very like the picture exhibited of him in the
Adelphi, and also several of the prints.

[Illustration: Bonaparte on the Quarter-Deck of H. M. S.
_Northumberland_.

(_Drawn during his passage to St. Helena. Published, January 1, 1816,
by Thomas Palser, Westminster Bridge Road._)]

"He is extremely curious, and never passes anything remarkable in the
ship, without immediately demanding its use, and inquiring minutely
into the manner thereof. He also stops and asks the officers divers
questions relative to the time they have been in the service, what
actions, &c.; and he caused all of us to be introduced to him, the
first day he came on board. He also asked several questions about
the marines, particularly those who appeared to have been some time
in the service, and about the warrant officers, midshipmen, seamen,
&c. He was but a very short time on board when he asked that the
boatswain might be sent for, in order that he might look at him,
and was very inquisitive as to the nature of his duty. He dresses
in green uniform, with red facings and edged with red, two plain
gold epaulettes, the lapels of the coat cut round and turned back,
white waistcoat and breeches, and military boots and spurs, the
Grand Cross of the Legion of Honour on his left breast. He professes
his intention (if he is allowed to reside in England) to adopt the
English customs and manners, and declares that he will never meddle
with politics more. The Army, which left Paris, and united with
others on the Loire, wanted him to rejoin them and resume his title,
which he refused to do. He declares that not another '_goutte de
sang_' shall be shed on his account. Fortunate, indeed, it would have
been if he had really been of this opinion some years back.

"His followers still treat him with the greatest respect, not one
of them, not even the Duke of ROVIGO himself, ever speaking to him,
without being uncovered the whole time. He does not appear out until
about half-past ten, though he rises about seven. He breakfasts in
the French fashion at eleven, and dines at six. He spends most of the
day alone in the after-cabin, and reads a great deal. He retires to
bed about eight. He has not latterly been much upon the quarter-deck.
His suite is composed of fifty people."

I give an illustration of "Bonaparte on the Quarter-deck of H.M.S.
_Northumberland_, drawn during his passage to St. Helena," which
fully bears out the above description.

On July 26th orders came for the _Bellerophon_ to go to Plymouth,
which being reached, two frigates, the _Liffey_, and _Eurotas_, were
anchored, one on either side of her, and kept strict guard over her.
No boat from the shore was allowed to come within a cable's length[6]
of her, and ships' boats continually rowing round her, kept that
space clear.

[Footnote 6: A measure of about one hundred fathoms. In all
marine charts a Cable is deemed 607.56 feet, or one-tenth
of a Sea Mile.]

Visitors from London, and all parts of England, came to get a
glimpse of him, and the sea was literally alive with boats of every
description. The following is by an eye witness[7]:--

"There is nothing so dull as mere fact, you'll admit,
While you read my detail, unenlivened by wit.
My friends will believe, though they're told it in rhyme,
That I thought to return in a far shorter time.
When at once we're resolv'd, by half past on the move,
And by two, but a trio, we reach Mutton Cove;
When approaching the quay, such a rabble and rout,
That we ask, 'My good friend, what is all this about?'
'They are rowing a race, and some boats are come in,
While these people are waiting till t'others begin.'
Well aware of our folly, with risible lip,
The boatman we told to make haste to _the_ ship;
On the colours of fish,[8] here by hampers-full landing,
We gaze for amuzement, while still we're kept standing;
At length to the Admiral's stairs we have got,
See his party on board, and hear tunes from his yacht.
The day is delightful, the gale just enough
For the sea to look lively, without being rough.
With those first at the ship, our sight costs the dearer,
As we've longer to wait, and not in the end, nearer;
For by land, and by water, so different the case is,
'Twas long before we were jam'd into our places;
But on further advice, we'll at present be dumb,
For half the spectators, you know, are now come.
In one boat, a bevy, all sarcenet and veil,
In the next some good fellows are toping their ale.
'Avast! here's the gun boat.' 'Aye, here it come smack.'
And the ladies cry, 'Captain, they'll drive us all back.'
Then some bully our men, with 'Skull out there, skull out.'
And others check these with, 'Mind what you're about.'
Here's a crazy old boat, laded dry with a shoe,
There, a gay painted barge is forced on our view;
In this, while Don Solus is jeered by the mob,
'See that empty boat, turn it out.' 'Here's a fine job.'
Cries one, of some dozens squeezed into the next,
'I've left the pork pie, Oh dear, I'm so vex'd.'
In the long boat, that shows a profusion of oar,
From the Captain bursts forth a most terrible roar
At his men; but the anger about whom, or what,
Though they may remember, we soon had forgot.
Here, infants were crying, mothers scolding outright,
While the next party laughs at some comical sight.
Now, watches and spy-glasses make their appearance,
And Impatience, that vixen, begins interference;
To beguile her, through portholes we eagerly stare,
For the nobles on deck are all taking the air.
'Hey-dey, what a bustle!' then 'All safe, all safe.'
The crowd is return'd to its chatter and laugh.
'Pray, what was the matter?' 'From the boat, near the ship,
A woman fell over, and so got a dip.'
But a hum of applause, yes, his triumph is full,
Yet this hum of applause has betrayed our John Bull,
'What hum of applause? come, I prithee, be brief.'
Why, John was delighted to see them _ship beef_.
With a smile 'tis observed by the Briton polite,
How the glee of the crowd was improv'd, by the sight,
For the rough, honest tar, had declared from his heart,
That he thought this a sight that would beat Bonaparte.
Some, again, with composure, predict peace and war,
Others look at the great folks, and fancy a star;
But we, much fatigued, six o'clock now approaching,
And on our good nature we thought them encroaching,
When boats are made bridges, nay, tempted to think
That through some of these freedoms, not strange we should sink.
But here I must mention, when all was most merry,
As here is each size, from the long-boat to wherry,
When the crowd should disperse, I was fearful, I own,
Lest your small boats, by barges, should then be run down.
But a truce with our hopes, our predictions and fears,
For now, yes, at last, our grand object appears;
And now, every eye to the ship is directed,
Though to see Bonaparte, I no longer expected;
For between us what number of men! and aghast
We stood, as still thicker and thicker the mast. [? _mass_]
But now see Napoleon, who seems in his figure,
What we call mediocre, nor smaller, nor bigger;
For, in spite of our fears, how it was, I can't tell,
What our distance allowed of, we saw very well.
But, in this we're full right, for now, hurry scurry,
Boat rows against boat, with the madness of fury;
The show was all over, but time was out staid
By some, and by others, attempts were still made
To get round the ship, in hopes Bonaparte might
At some place yet be seen, thus to perfect their sight."

[Footnote 7: "A Visit to Bonaparte in Plymouth Sound," by a
Lady. Plymouth, 1815.]

[Footnote 8: Mackerel.]

This doggerel helps us to realize the intense desire of the British
public to get, at least, a glimpse at Boney, that great bugbear,
who for so many years had been so great a terror to them, and whose
existence, every one, from the highest to the lowest, had acutely
felt in that tenderest place of our social economy--the breeches
pocket. They all but carried out the threat, made twelve years
previously, of putting him in _Pidcock's Menagerie_, vide the
following extracts from a contemporary pamphlet[9]:--

"The desire of all ranks to see him was excessive; the guard boats
were unable to prevent them from closing the ship, and it was
amusement on board to look at the boats contending for places.
Napoleon generally walked the quarter-deck about eleven in the
forenoon and half-past six in the afternoon. He ate but two meals
in the day, both alike, meat of every description, different wines,
coffee, fruit, &c. Immediately after each meal, he rose first, and
the others followed; he then either went on the quarter-deck, or in
the after-cabin to study. The comedy of _The Poor Gentleman_[10] was
performed before him. He was much pleased at it; it went off very
well. The scenery was good, but somewhat better dresses were wanted
for the _female midshipmen_.[11]

[Footnote 9: "Interesting Particulars of Napoleon's
Deportation for Life to St. Helena," &c. London, 1816.
Printed for W. Hone.]

[Footnote 10: By George Colman the Younger.]

[Footnote 11: _I.e._, the midshipmen who took female parts.]

"The immense number of persons who daily flock from all parts of the
country to take a view of the person of Napoleon, is incalculable.
He generally gratified the public curiosity by making his appearance
every afternoon for two hours.

"Upwards of one thousand boats were from morning to night round the
_Bellerophon_. The seamen of the _Bellerophon_ adopted a curious
mode to give an account to the curious spectators in the boats of
the movements of Napoleon. They wrote in chalk on a board, which
they exhibited, a short account of his different occupations. 'At
breakfast.'--'In the cabin with Captain Maitland.'--'Writing with his
officers.'--'Going to dinner.'--'Coming upon deck,' &c."

Las Cases says: "It was known that he always appeared on deck towards
five o'clock. A short time before this hour all the boats collected
alongside of each other; there were thousands; and so closely were
they connected that the water could no longer be seen between them.
They looked more like a multitude assembled in a public square than
anything else. When the Emperor came out, the noise and gestures of
so many people presented a most striking spectacle; it was, at the
same time, very easy to perceive that nothing hostile was meant,
and that, if curiosity had brought them, they felt interested on
going away. We could even see that the latter sentiment continued to
increase; at first, people merely looked toward the ship, they ended
by saluting: some remained uncovered, and, occasionally, went so far
as to cheer. Even our symbols began to appear amongst them. Several
individuals of both sexes came decorated with red carnations."

Napoleon knew that St. Helena had been fixed upon as the place of his
future residence, and did not at all relish the idea; but it was not
officially announced to him until July 30th or 31st, when Lord Keith
went on board the _Bellerophon_, and presented him with the following
despatch:--

"_Communication made by Lord Keith in the name of the English
Ministers._

"As it may, perhaps, be convenient for General Buonaparte to
learn, without further delay, the intentions of the British
Government with regard to him, your Lordship will communicate
the following information.

"It would be inconsistent with our duty towards our country,
and the Allies of his Majesty, if General Buonaparte possessed
the means of again disturbing the repose of Europe. It is on
this account that it becomes absolutely necessary he should be
restrained in his personal liberty, so far as this is required
by the foregoing important object.

"The island of St. Helena has been chosen as his future
residence; its climate is healthy, and its local position will
allow of his being treated with more indulgence than could
be admitted in any other spot, owing to the indispensable
precautions which it would be necessary to employ for the
security of his person.

"General Buonaparte is allowed to select amongst those persons
who accompanied him to England (with the exception of Generals
Savary and Lallemand) three officers, who, together with his
surgeon, will have permission to accompany him to St. Helena;
these individuals will not be allowed to quit the island without
the sanction of the British Government.

"Rear-Admiral Sir George Cockburn, who is named
Commander-in-Chief at the Cape of Good Hope and seas adjacent,
will convey General Buonaparte and his suite to St. Helena; and
he will receive detailed instructions relative to the execution
of this service.

"Sir G. Cockburn will, most probably, be ready to sail in a few
days; for which reason it is desirable that General Buonaparte
should make choice of the persons who are to accompany him
without delay."

"Of this interview Las Cases says: "I was not called before the
Emperor. The bearers of his sentence spoke, and understood French;
they were admitted alone. I have since heard that he objected, and
protested, with no less energy than logic, against the violence
exercised on his person. 'He was the guest of England,' said
Napoleon, 'and not its prisoner; he came of his own accord to place
himself under the protection of its laws; the most sacred rights
of hospitality were violated in his person; he would never submit
voluntarily to the outrage they were preparing for him: violence,
alone, should oblige him to do so,' &c."

That the Government was in earnest as to his departure was soon
shown, for orders came on August 4th for the _Bellerophon_ to weigh
and join the _Northumberland_, which was the ship in which Napoleon
was to take his passage to St. Helena. He issued a formal protest:--

"I hereby solemnly protest in the face of heaven and mankind
against the violence that is done me; and the violation of my
most sacred rights, in forcibly disposing of my person and
liberty. I voluntarily came on board the _Bellerophon_--I am
not the prisoner, I am the guest of England. I came at the
instigation of the Captain himself, who said he had orders
from the Government to receive, and convey me to England,
together with my suite, if agreeable to me. I came forward, with
confidence, to place myself under the protection of the laws of
England. When once on board the _Bellerophon_, I was entitled
to the hospitality of the British people. If the Government, in
giving the Captain of the _Bellerophon_ orders to receive me and
my followers, only wished to lay a snare, it has forfeited its
honour, and disgraced its flag.

"If this act be consummated, it will be in vain for the
English henceforth to talk of their sincerity, their laws, and
liberties. British faith will have been lost in the hospitality
of the _Bellerophon_.

"I appeal to History; it will say that an enemy who made war for
twenty years against the English people, came spontaneously, in
the hour of misfortune, to seek an asylum under their laws. What
more striking proof could he give of his esteem and confidence?
But how did England reply to such an act of magnanimity? It
pretended to hold out a hospitable hand to this enemy; and, on
giving himself up with confidence, he was immolated!

"NAPOLEON.

"_Bellerophon_, at Sea, _Friday, Aug. 4, 1815_."

This might have been good logic had it not been for the little
episode of Elba, which showed that neither honour, nor treaties,
could bind him, and the contiguity of England to France was far too
near. His residence here would be a fruitful source of intrigue and
danger to both countries. Every reason of sound policy was for his
complete isolation; but, whether that sentence was carried out either
humanely, or with even a show of deference to Napoleon's feelings, is
another question, which needs no discussion here.

On the 6th they anchored off Start Point, and were soon joined by the
_Northumberland_ and two frigates, full of soldiers, who were to form
the garrison of St. Helena. By order, the arms of Napoleon's suite
were taken from them, but the ex-Emperor was allowed to retain his
sword. All their money, diamonds, and saleable effects were put under
seal, but Napoleon kept his plate, baggage, wines, and provisions.
The search of his personal effects greatly exasperated him.

[Illustration: Boxiana; or, The Fancy. (_Published by Mr. Jones, 5,
Newgate Street, October 1, 1815._)]

Between one and two o'clock p.m. of the 7th of August the transfer
from the _Bellerophon_ to the _Northumberland_ was made, and then, as
there was nothing else to wait for, "Cæsar and his fortunes" sailed
from St. Helena.

There were but a very few satirical prints anent him published after
his departure, and, I think, not one after the news of his safe
arrival at St. Helena. There was a sense of relief that now he was
powerless for mischief, and a revulsion of feeling set in. It was
then the heyday of Boxing, and it was felt repugnant to all feelings
of English manliness, to "hit a man when he was down." The Prince of
Wales was severely remarked on for his conduct to his illustrious
Captive, and the following poetry was exceedingly popular.

This illustration, which is separate from, but goes well with the
song, is called "BOXIANA, or the FANCY," and the poem is an "Epistle
from TOM CRIBB to BIG BEN, containing some Foul Play in a Pugilistic
Encounter," August, 1815:--

"What, Ben! my big hero, is this thy renown?
Is _this_ the _new Go_--kick a man when he's down?
When the foe has _knockt under_, to tread on him then?
By the fist of my father, I blush for thee, _Ben_!
_Foul! Foul!_ all the _Lads of the Fancy_ exclaim--
_Charley Shock_ is electrified--_Belcher_ spits flame--
And _Molyneux_--aye, even Blackey, cries Shame!

Time was, when _John Bull_ little difference spied,
'Twixt the foe at his feet, and the friend at his side;
When he found (such his humour in fighting and eating),
His foe, like his beefsteak, the better for beating!
But this comes, Master _Ben_, of your curst foreign notions,
Your trinkets, wigs, thingambobs, gold lace, and lotions;
Your Noyeau's Curacoa's, and the Devil knows what--
(One swig of _Blue Ruin_ is worth the whole lot.)
Your great and small _crosses_ (my eyes! what a brood!)
A cross buttock from _me_ would do some of 'em good--
Which have spoil'd you, till hardly a drop, my old porpus,
Of pure English _claret_ is left in your _corpus_.
And (as _Jim_ says) the only one trick, good or bad,
Of the _Fancy_, you're up to, is _fibbing_, my lad!
Hence it comes, _Boxiana_, disgrace to thy page!--
Having _floor'd_, by good luck, the first _Swell_ of the Age,
Having conquer'd the _prime one_ that _mill'd_ us all round,
You kick'd him, old _Ben_, as he gasp'd on the ground!--
Aye--just at the time to show spunk, if you'd any,
Kick'd him, and jaw'd, and _lag'd_[12] him to Botany!

Oh, shade of the Cheesemonger![13] you who, alas!
_Doubled up_, by the dozen, those Mounseers in brass,
On that great day of _milling_,[14] when blood lay in lakes,
When Kings held the bottle, and Europe the Stakes,
Look down upon _Ben_, see him, _Dunghill_ all o'er,
Moult the fall'n foe that can harm him no more;
Out, cowardly _Spooney_! again and again.
By the fist of my father, I blush for thee, _Ben_!
To show the _white feather_[15] is many men's doom,
But what of _one_ feather! _Ben_ boasts a whole _Plume_!!"

[Footnote 12: Transported.]

[Footnote 13: Shaw the Lifeguardsman.]

[Footnote 14: Battle of Waterloo.]

[Footnote 15: Cowardice.]

And so Napoleon fades away.

CHAPTER III.

The effect of the capture and banishment of Napoleon was felt
immediately, a great strain was taken off Europe, and it was known to
all, that the peace, after so long a conflict, would be enduring. On
the 17th of August we read, "The impressment of seamen is directed
to be discontinued at all the seaports, as also the receiving of
volunteers, except for the peace establishment. Orders have been
issued at the different ports to pay off the Navy; and the seamen
are to be sent to their respective homes, in small vessels, to be in
readiness for that purpose."

The Navy was a rough school then, and the officers mainly came from a
very different class to that from which they are now recruited. What
a Midshipman's berth was like then, we may learn from the following
extract from a letter:

"The Midshipman, whose _Friends were not born before him_, as the
phrase goes, is easily distinguished amongst his more fortunate
companions in arms; you generally see him attired like the prodigal
son returning from his occupation of a swineherd, than a British
officer. His perforated worsted hose, shoes which have a very great
resemblance to _sandals_, threadbare pantaloons which were once blue,
a tattered '_uniform!_' coat, and a slouched hat, show that 'poverty,
and not his will, consents.'

"A Midshipman's berth (in a dark cockpit under water) has long been
proverbial for the convenience, and elegance of its comforts; a large
deal table, abundantly ornamented with hieroglyphicks, a form, and
some broken chairs, two beautiful brass candlesticks, well charged
with grease, lights which seem to render darkness more visible, about
ten plates and dishes, seven knives and forks, five pewter spoons,
with cups and saucers in proportion, two old decanters without necks,
and a very large stock of empty bottles, usually form the earthly
stock of its utensils. To describe the valet, or attendant, would,
indeed, be a difficult task; perhaps the reader can call to mind Le
Sage's description of Domingo, whose vigilance prevented Gil Blas'
escape from the Cavern? If so, I need not trouble you with anything
further on the subject, except that the one is, generally, the
counterpart of the other."

In the following, under date of October 3rd, we see the germ of our
present steam navy: "We understand that a distinguished British
Officer, who had an opportunity of viewing the steam frigate at New
York, pronounced it to be the most formidable battery of defence ever
invented (they are to be stationed at all their different seaports):
and the Officer alluded to, has, we hear, strongly recommended their
adoption, particularly for the Bay of Gibraltar."

Steam had already been introduced into our Mercantile marine, and we
find (September), "A _Margate_ hoy of large dimensions, propelled by
steam, goes constantly to and fro from London to Margate. From its
novelty, and the certainty of its arrival within a given time (about
twelve hours), it is much thronged with passengers."

It was the fashionable month for those popular watering-places,
Margate and Ramsgate, and how our grandparents took their holidays
is thus described: "How very different is a watering-place from the
rest of the world! In a commercial town every face you meet, carries
the word 'business,' every one seems so absorbed in his own cares,
as not even to be conscious of the existence of his fellow men. Life
seems to have an object, you involuntarily quicken your pace, cast
your eyes straight forward, and enumerate to yourself the several
matters you have to transact. There is nothing of all this at a
Watering-Place, there you find the inhabitants divided into two
classes, _gapers_, and _smilers_. By the gapers must be understood,
those who are here to spend their money, and be amused; and, by the
smilers, those who are here to gain their money, and be maintained.

"Now the employment of the gapers is to lie in bed all the fore part
of the day, 'the dewy hour of prime,' to wear a great coat, brown
hat, brown shoes, bathe, and ride half a mile on a donkey, with a
boy behind to whip it, read the newspapers during the middle of the
day, and in the evening to dine, to go to a promenade in a ballroom,
where during nine-tenths of the time every one sits still; or, to the
theatre, where the pure air, and pure light of heaven are shut out,
to make room for otto of roses and Argand lamps. Thus the amusements
of the citizen are scarcely varied by his journey, or, rather, his
voyage, for the packets bring the mass of visitors to Margate. The
first effort the worthy Cit makes to get rid of the foul air of
London, is to stow himself and family on board the hoy; here he finds
eighty or a hundred amateurs of fresh air. Then if the wind be fair,
and not too strong, they proceed tolerably well, but should the wind
be foul, which Heaven in its great mercy forefend, such a scene
opens, such qualms, and faintings,

'Such revisitings,
As make day hideous, and us poor fools of nature
Most horribly to shake our dispositions.'"

Although there was virtually peace throughout Europe, the Definitive
Treaty of Peace, between the Allied Powers and France, was not signed
until the 20th of November, at Paris: consequently the prisoners of
war were not released. We can well understand the irritation of the
poor fellows, who knew that it was only red tape that was preventing
their return to their country and homes, and are, therefore,
not surprised to hear (September 13th), that "the prisoners in
confinement on board the prison ships at Cowes, meditated escape
on the night of the 1st instant, but their plans were fortunately
detected, through the perseverance and exertions of Lieutenant
Whaley, 18th Regiment of Foot, Commanding Officer on board the ships.
To show the length they intended to go, if necessary, to effect their
purpose, they had actually sworn themselves to secrecy, by drinking
their own blood mixed with cold water."

They were rather expensive acquaintances, for I find that the cost of
them, during the greater part of the war, for provisions, clothing,
and superintendence, was calculated in detail, to amount to £1000 per
diem--and this was exclusive of building materials used for their
prisons.

The text of the Treaty arrived here on the 27th of November.
London was illuminated, Peace was proclaimed, as was also a Day of
Thanksgiving.

Napoleon's House and furniture were manufactured here, and were
ready for shipment by the end of October. I have but space to
describe the house; suffice it to say, that the furniture was fitted
for the use of an opulent gentleman, rather than for the quondam
ruler of Europe. "The framework for the house is nearly completed at
Woolwich. The front is in the Grecian style. It is about 120 feet
in length, containing fourteen windows, and a fine open corridor.
The depth of the building is about 100 feet, with a back corridor,
almost making the whole structure square.--It is two stories high,
and will have an elegant cottage appearance. The ground-floor of the
right division of the house, contains Bonaparte's apartments. In the
centre of this wing is his drawing-room, which, as well as the other
apartments for his accommodation, is about 30 feet in length, by a
breadth of 20. This proportion runs through the whole. Next, is his
dining-room, with an adjoining library, behind which, is a capacious
billiard-room. His bedroom, dressing-room, and bath, are of course
connected. The left division of the edifice contains apartments for
the officers of his suite. The rear comprises the servants' and store
rooms. The kitchen is detached from the regular building, and yet
perfectly convenient to the dining-room, without communicating any
offensive fumes to the principal range of rooms. This is of no small
value in a sultry climate. The Hall is plain, and merely furnished
with seats. The Corridors will furnish a cool and shaded promenade."

China, stationery, and two fowling-pieces, one with percussion locks,
and every necessary appertaining to them were sent out, as well as
artisans to fit up the house; and the whole of this consignment,
weighed nearly five hundred tons.

The following letter, which seems genuine, tells a tale of what our
soldiers went through in the early part of this century:--

"PARIS IN FRANCE 5th _Sept. 1815_.

"DEAR MOTHER AND SISTER,--I have taken the oppertunity of
writing these lines to you hoping it will find you in good
health, as it now leaves me at this present thank be to God for
it. I am very sorry I did not anser your Letters as I had not
opportunity for we was very busy fighting the french a long
time every day in the Mountains in Spain and I always had good
luck til one day I received two balls one hitt me right on my
brest plate and knocked me downe and as soon as I got my wind
agen I fired about ten rounds more and then another hitt me
through my hip which was bad along time and one came through
my Haversack and another throw my trowsers and shirt and that
same night was very wet and no fires could be lighted and it
was very cold on the Mountains but the Dockter was very good to
me and after that we drove the french into their own Country
and made them beg for peace and then we went into Ammerica into
upper Kanndy where we had all the fighting with the Yankeys till
we got a piece of them seven hundred miles up the Contrey nigh
to the falls of Naygaray which you know is 1 of the 7 wonders
of the world and there my Captain was so kind as to give me a
pass without date and I workd for a large farmer all winter and
had plenty of vittles and a good bed fit for any Gentleman and
the Ridgment was then ling in Barns and when the men had to get
up their hare was frose to their heads and they could not pull
the Blankets from the floore and I thote myself well off and
this farmer bid 100 Dollars for my discharge and we returned
to Spithead and was 6 weeks on the Water which is 4 thousand 5
hundred milles and is colled a good passage[16] and wee could
not get a shore after all this for we was ordered to french
flanders and at last we have got to Paris and is in the Buss de
bulling near to it which is a very fine place like a grove for
a gateway and the french is very civil funny fellows to us now
cause they know we can defend ourselves and they do not care
for nothing but to get our Monney which theare is plenty way to
spend and theare is shows and Montybanks every night and sundays
and all and there is no Justesses or Methodys to stop them and
there is all sorts of sights and Bartlemy fair is nothing to
it and we are now agen commanded by brave Duke Wellington that
always conqurs--and there is soldiers of all sorts here past
all telling Rooshons Prooshons and Austrions and Jarmans of all
kind and the Rooshons are verry good naturd cretures and will do
anything for an Englishman and says their prayrs evry Morning
and night and will fight their ennemis for ever for the Emperor
and the Virgin Marey the same as we do for king George and old
England, and the Prushons is very quiet men and smokes all day
long and the Austrions is fine tall fellows and the foot is
drest as handsome as our Horse Officers and all our Officers is
very good Gentlemen and we think to stay in france two Years and
I am very contented--dear mother I wish it was not so far off or
you and Bet coud come for I have savd some Monney and I larnt a
littel french in Kannday but it is not the same sort it is here
give my kind love to all inquiring friends and pray God bless
you all from your loving son til death,"----&c. &c.

[Footnote 16: Of course, now-a-days we can hardly
understand this; but the old tubs used to take their time
then.--It is recorded in the "Annual Register" of 1815, as
follows: "16 December.--A vessel is arrived in the Thames
from New South Wales after an extraordinarily short passage
of less than five months."]

What would the modern _Patres Conscripti_ of the City say if a Lord
Mayor were to appear like unto this? "We are happy to state that
the Lord Mayor has commenced his Office with the most commendable
alacrity. His lordship visited Billingsgate market, at five o'clock
on Tuesday morning; and, yesterday morning, about the same hour,
perambulated the streets, and visited the different watch-houses
in the City. From a continuation of this conduct, at uncertain
periods, we anticipate the most beneficial results." I have seen no
more records of these visits, and thence judge that some judicious
friend had whispered in his ear, the advice of Talleyrand to a young
diplomat--"Sur tout, mon ami, pas trop de zèle."

A very few more odds and ends, and I must close the Chronicle of
1815. On the 5th of December, was hanged, at Newgate, John Binstead,
convicted of forgery, and at his execution, a peculiar superstition
is recorded: "While on the scaffold, Binstead, in conversation with
the Rev. Mr. Cotton (the ordinary of Newgate) requested that his
hands might not be applied to persons who came to be rubbed for the
wen."

Of the Hotels and Clubs of this time Captain Gronow writes thus:
"There was a class of men, of very high rank, such as Lords
Wellington, Nelson, and Collingwood, Sir John Moore, and some few
others, who never frequented the Clubs. The persons to whom I refer,
and amongst whom were many members of the sporting world, used to
congregate at a few hotels. The Clarendon, Limmer's, Ibbetson's,
Fladong's, Stephens', and Grillon's, were the fashionable hotels. The
Clarendon was then kept by a French cook, Jacquiers, who contrived to
amass a large sum of money in the service of Louis the Eighteenth,
in England, and, subsequently, with Lord Darnley. This was the only
public hotel where you could get a genuine French dinner, and, for
which, you seldom paid less than three or four pounds; your bottle of
champagne, or of claret, in the year 1814, costing you a guinea.

"Limmer's was the evening resort for the sporting world; in fact, it
was a midnight Tattersall's, where you heard nothing but the language
of the turf, and where men, with not very clean hands, used to make
up their books. Limmer's was the most dirty hotel in London; but, in
the gloomy, comfortless coffee-room, might be seen many members of
the rich squirearchy, who visited London during the sporting season.
This hotel was frequently so crowded that a bed could not be obtained
for any amount of money; but you could always get a very good
plain English dinner, an excellent bottle of port, and some famous
gin-punch.

"Ibbetson's Hotel was chiefly patronized by the clergy and young
men from the universities. The Charges there were more economical
than at similar establishments. Fladong's, in Oxford Street, was
chiefly frequented by naval men; for, in those days, there was no
club for sailors. Stephens', in Bond Street, was a fashionable
hotel, supported by officers of the army, and men about town. If a
stranger asked to dine there, he was stared at by the waiters, and
very solemnly assured that there was no table vacant. It was not an
uncommon thing to see thirty or forty saddle horses, and tilburys,
waiting outside this hotel. I recollect two of my old Welsh friends,
who used, each of them, to dispose of five bottles of wine, daily,
residing here in 1815, when the familiar joints, boiled fish, and
fried soles, were the only eatables you could order.

"The members of the clubs of London, many years since, were persons,
almost without exception, belonging exclusively to the aristocratic
world. 'My tradesmen,' as King Allen used to call the bankers and
the merchants, had not then invaded White's, Boodle's, Brookes',
or Wattiers' in Bolton Street, Piccadilly; which, with the Guards,
Arthur's, and Graham's, were the only clubs at the west end of the
town. White's was decidedly the most difficult of entry; its list of
members comprised nearly all the noble names of Great Britain.

"The politics of White's Club were, then, decidedly Tory. It was
here that play was carried on to an extent which made many ravages
in large fortunes, the traces of which have not disappeared at the
present day. General Scott, the father-in-law of George Canning, and
the Duke of Portland, was known to have won at White's, £200,000,
thanks to his notorious sobriety, and knowledge of the game of
whist. The General possessed a great advantage over his companions
by avoiding those indulgences at the table which used to muddle
other men's brains. He confined himself to dining off something like
a boiled chicken, with toast and water; by such a regimen he came
to the whist table with a clear head, and, possessing, as he did,
a remarkable memory, with great coolness and judgment, he was able
honestly to win the enormous sum of £200,000.

"At Brookes', for nearly half a century, the play was of a more
gambling character than at White's. Faro and Macao were indulged in
to an extent which enabled a man to win, or to lose a considerable
fortune in one night. It was here that Charles James Fox, Selwyn,
Lord Carlisle, and other great Whigs, won and lost hundreds of
thousands; frequently remaining at the table for many hours without
rising.

"On one occasion, Lord Robert Spencer contrived to lose the last
shilling of his considerable fortune, given him by his brother, the
Duke of Marlborough; General Fitzpatrick being much in the same
condition, they agreed to raise a sum of money, in order that they
might keep a faro bank. The members of the club made no objection,
and ere long, they carried out their design. As is generally the
case, the bank was a winner, and Lord Robert bagged, as his share of
the proceeds £100,000. He retired, strange to say, from the foetid
atmosphere of play, with the money in his pockets, and never again
gambled. George Harley Drummond, of the famous banking house, Charing
Cross, only played once in his whole life at White's Club, at whist,
on which occasion he lost £20,000 to Brummell. This event caused him
to retire from the banking house of which he was a partner.

"Lord Carlisle was one of the most remarkable victims amongst the
players at Brookes', and Charles Fox, his friend, was not more
fortunate, being, subsequently, always in pecuniary difficulties.
Many a time, after a long night of hard play, the loser found himself
at the Israelitish establishment of Howard and Gibbs, then the
fashionable, and patronized, money-lenders. These gentlemen never
failed to make hard terms with the borrower, although ample security
was invariably demanded.

"The Guards Club was established for the three regiments of Foot
Guards, and was conducted upon a military system. Billiards and low
whist were the only games indulged in. The dinner was, perhaps,
better than at most clubs, and considerably cheaper. I had the honour
of being a member for several years, during which time I have nothing
to remember, but the most agreeable incidents. Arthur's and Graham's
were less aristocratic than those I have mentioned; it was at the
latter, thirty years ago, that a most painful circumstance took
place. A nobleman of the highest position, and influence in society,
was detected in cheating at cards, and, after a trial, which did not
terminate in his favour, he died of a broken heart.

"Upon one occasion, some gentlemen of both White's and Brookes'
had the honour to dine with the Prince Regent, and during the
conversation, the Prince inquired what sort of dinners they got
at their clubs; upon which, Sir Thomas Stepney, one of the guests,
observed that their dinners were always the same, 'the eternal
joints, or beefsteaks, the boiled fowl with oyster sauce, and an
apple tart--this is what we have, sir, at our clubs, and very
monotonous fare it is.' The Prince, without further remark, rang
the bell for his cook, Wattier, and, in the presence of those who
dined at the Royal table, asked him whether he would take a house,
and organize a dinner club. Wattier assented, and named Madeson,
the Prince's page, manager, and Labourie, the cook, from the Royal
kitchen. The Club flourished only a few years, owing to high play
that was carried on there. The Duke of York patronized it, and was a
member. I was a member in 1816, and frequently saw his Royal Highness
there. The dinners were exquisite; the best Parisian cooks could not
beat Labourie. The favourite game played was Macao."

CHAPTER IV.

1816.

This new year began well. The 18th of January was chosen as a solemn
day of Thanksgiving to the Almighty for the blessings of Peace--a
form, which one would have thought, would, out of the commonest
sentiment of gratitude, have taken place six months previously, after
Waterloo, and the submission of Napoleon; but, of course, gratitude
to God must needs be subservient to diplomatic Red Tape; and HE had
to wait for the expression of the nation's thankfulness. This day
was also the Queen's birthday, and the guns were fired, and the
coloured lamps were lit at night, in token of the country's joy at
having so gracious a person so long spared to them, so "Serve God and
honour the Queen" was thoroughly, and properly, carried out at an
economical rate. There was also, out of pure generosity, something
thrown in. The French Colours, taken at Waterloo, two in number, were
deposited in the Chapel at Whitehall. Country newspapers please copy
the following: "The ceremony was conducted with perfect order; and,
associated, as it was, with the duties of religious worship; the
memory of the Contest in which the trophies were won, and the sight
of the brave veterans who had survived its carnage, the influence
it produced was not of an ordinary nature, but rather approached
to a sentiment of sublimity" (_Times_). Perhaps a portion of the
"sublimity" was owing to the fact that the Guards "were dressed in
new clothing, with Caps on a new principle, and, as we are informed,
far superior in comfort to the wearers."

This Military tailoring is a craze which seizes great minds at times.
It has needed the colossal brains of the Duke of York, the Prince
Regent (who, when he took to yachting, the Service prayed to be
delivered from, in case he should alter their already too expensive
uniform), of Albert the Good, whose hat is enshrined in the pages
of _Punch_, and the Duke of Cambridge, whose attention to buttons,
and facings, has won him world-wide renown--and everybody is so much
better, and more efficient, from the outcome of their laborious
study.

One of these Eagles was won after a stubborn fight, which would
have entitled its Captor to the Victoria Cross, now-a-days. It was
the metaphorical captive of the spear and bow of Sergeant Ewart,
whose exploit, on his being gazetted Ensign in the 3rd Royal Veteran
battalion, is thus contemporaneously chronicled. It was on the
18th of June, and on "the afternoon of that eventful day, the 92nd
Regiment, reduced to two hundred, charged a column of the Enemy, from
two thousand to three thousand strong; they broke into the centre of
the column, and the moment they pierced it, the Scotch Greys dashed
in to their support, when both these gallant Corps cheered, and
huzzaed 'Scotland for ever!' The Enemy, to a man, were put to the
sword, or made prisoners. The Greys, afterwards, charged the second
line, which amounted to five thousand men; it was in the first that
Sergeant Ewart captured the French eagle; the affair is thus modestly
detailed by himself: 'I had a hard contest for it; the officer who
carried it thrust for my groin; I parried it off, and cut him through
the head; after which I was attacked by one of the lancers, who threw
his lance at me, but missed the mark, by my throwing it off with my
sword by my right side, then I cut him from the chin upwards, and
went through his teeth. Next, I was attacked by a foot soldier, who,
after firing, charged me with his bayonet, but I parried it off,
and cut him through the head--so that finished the contest for the
eagle.'" An incident which is well commemorated by Ansdell, in his
picture (1848), the "Battle for the Standard."

The Medals for Waterloo and bars for the Campaign were now being
distributed, but it took about forty years to thoroughly give them to
their rightful owners;[17] their distribution being about as slow as
is naval prize money, or the Banda and Kirwee booty.

[Footnote 17: It took longer, _vide_ this extract from _The
Globe_, March 18, 1889:--"A TARDY HONOUR.--Captain Gammell
is 92. It is only within the last ten days that he has
received an honour which he won nearly three-quarters of a
century ago. As Ensign James Gammell he was present at the
sortie of Bayonne, and leaving the army shortly afterwards
never applied for the medal. At last Captain Gammell has
found himself decorated with two--one the Jubilee medal,
accompanied by a letter from Sir Henry Ponsonby on behalf
of the Queen; the other the Peninsular medal, with the
clasp for the Nive, forwarded by the Duke of Cambridge.
It is never too late to decorate a gallant man, and
Colonel Balguy, who has been active in this matter, is to
be congratulated upon the success which his efforts have
attained."]

The troops were not too quick in coming back from Paris, which they
had occupied, and the Foot Guards only returned late in the year
of 1815. In fact, in January of this year, they took up their old
quarters at Windsor, in presence of the Queen, princesses, and the
most puissant Duke of York. They wore laurels in their Caps on this
occasion. I do not think they have worn them since.

Judging from our standpoint, one can hardly realize the first
importation of frozen meat; and it was duly chronicled as a
curiosity: "To such a pitch is mercantile speculation for the
luxurious now arrived, that we understand three poor Laplanders have
come over in the last packet from Gottenburg, and are on their way
to London with five sledges, laden with Lapland Game, consisting
of Tjadear (Cock of the Wood), Cappercally Orrar (black cock), Suö
Ripor (Ptarmigan), Hjarpar (hazel hen), except the black cock all
species of the grouse, but now extinct in this country. Those birds
are considered the greatest delicacies of the North, and are, we are
told, in the highest state of preservation."

This was written at the end of January, and, at the beginning of
February, we find that our unfortunate Northern guests had landed
on a somewhat inhospitable shore, for they had to pay over £50 duty
for imported game, and £10 freight from Harwich to London. But this
frozen game was quite novel, and it deserves a contemporary account
of what they thought of it at the time. "The state of preservation in
which these birds are, is really surprising, after travelling upwards
of one thousand miles. They are preserved by being hung up to freeze
as soon as killed, and, afterwards, being packed in cases, lined
with skin to keep out the air. This process so effectually preserves
them, that when the packages are opened, the birds are frozen quite
hard; and those packages which are not opened, will continue in this
state for some weeks. The mode in which the small birds are dressed
in Sweden, is by stewing them in cream, with a little butter in
it, after being larded, which, it is said, gives them an exquisite
flavour: the large ones are roasted and basted with cream, which
is, afterwards, served up with sauce. These Laplanders wear a kind
of great coat, made of reindeer skin, with caps and gloves of the
same, which gives them a very grotesque appearance: they are very
shy of appearing in the streets in this attire, on account of their
attracting so many people round them."

This absurdity of charging an import duty on game was enforced, not
only in the case of these poor Laplanders, but, at other times: for
instance, under date of 24th of February we read: "A greengrocer of
Brighton imported twenty partridges and two hares from France, and
paid the importation duty on them; he was, notwithstanding, convicted
of exposing the said game for sale by the Magistrates at Uckfield,
and fined £110, which, being unable to pay, he was committed for
three months to Lewes House of Correction."

The Esquimaux stopped all the summer and autumn in England, and were
a popular exhibition. They travelled all over the country, and we
hear of one of them in the _Caledonian Mercury_, September same year:
"His canoe is esteemed a very great curiosity, weighing only 16lbs.,
he rows it by one oar or paddle, and is so very dexterous in managing
it, that he far outsails any boat with six oars. He is very expert
in diving, and also in throwing his darts; he is so fastened to his
seat, that he cannot fall out--as a drawer, like the mouth of a
purse, girds him about the loins, so that, in an instant, he may be
seen to dive under the water, head down, and keel uppermost; again,
in the twinkling of an eye, he raises himself erect out of the water,
and scuds along as if nothing had happened."

On February 8th the _Alceste_, sailed from Portsmouth for China,
having on board Lord Amherst, appointed Ambassador to that Country,
and a numerous suite, the ships also conveying numerous presents for
the Emperor. Of this expedition we shall hear more in next year's
Chronicle.

The Regent was always being satirized by the publication of some of
his own puerilities, or those of his suite, who, of course, took
their tone from him. The _Brighton Herald_ is answerable for the
following: "A gallant Admiral, residing at the Pavilion, was, a few
days since, presented by a certain Great Personage, with a beautiful
milk-white mare, which it was stated, had just arrived from Hanover.
Nothing was talked of but this fine creature; and every one seemed
anxious to have her merits put to the test. The Admiral mounted,
tried her in all her paces, and though he could but approve, yet he
pronounced her to be greatly inferior to a favourite black mare of
his own. The present, however, coming from so high a quarter, was,
of course, received with every expression of duty and thankfulness.
The long switching tail of the animal, not exactly suiting the
Admiral's taste, he sent her to a farrier to have it cropped,--when,
lo! he speedily received intelligence that it was a _false_ tail,
and that, beneath it, appeared a short black, one. This curious
fact led to a minuter inspection, when it was at length discovered
that this _beautiful white Hanoverian horse_ was no other than the
good-humoured Admiral's own _black mare_, which had been painted in a
manner to elude his detection." Thus it was that "_le Roi s'amuse_."

But the Regent was fit for better things. On the very same date that
the above was recorded, we find that he ordered, at his own expense,
a splendid monument to be erected at Rome, in memory of Cardinal
York, the last legitimate descendant of the Stuarts.

Another serious event was preparing for him, the marriage of his
daughter. We have seen that she would have none of the Prince of
Orange--it is not quite certain whether, at this time, she was
dotingly fond of him who was to be her partner in life for the brief
portion of time allotted her. At all events, he came over here, in
February, as the suitor for her hand--arriving on the 21st, and
dutifully waited upon "papa" on the 23rd. That his suit would be a
prosperous one, there could hardly be a doubt, for he was received by
the Duke of Clarence, Sir R. Bloomfield (the Regent's Chamberlain),
Count Hardenberg, and the Nobility then residing at the Pavilion.

"Happy's the wooing, that's not long a-doing," says the old rhyme,
and this was speedily brought to a conclusion. The Prince paid
his devoirs to his future bride, and her "stern parent," and then
gracefully retired from the scene. In those days of no Telegraphs,
the news of people's happiness, or misfortunes, was longer in
reaching them than now, for a King's Messenger had to go to Paris,
only to find Prince Leopold gone to Berlin, and to follow him there,
in order to tell him that the English Princess Royal had been
graciously pleased to accept him for her husband. On the Messenger's
return, the consent of the Prince Regent was officially given, and
the Lord Chancellor affixed the great Seal to the Marriage Contract.

On Thursday, the 14th of March, Lord Castlereagh appeared at the bar
of the House of Commons with the following message from the Prince
Regent:

"The Prince Regent, acting in the name, and on the behalf of his
Majesty, having given the royal consent to a marriage between
his daughter, her Royal Highness the Princess Charlotte Augusta,
and his Serene Highness Leopold George Frederick, Prince of
Cobourg of Saalfield, has thought fit to communicate the same to
this House.

"His Royal Highness is fully persuaded that this alliance cannot
but be acceptable to all his Majesty's faithful subjects;
and the many proofs which his Highness has received of the
affectionate attachment of this House to his Majesty's person
and family, leave him no room to doubt of the concurrence
and assistance of this House, in enabling him to make such a
provision, with a view to the said marriage, as may be suitable
to the honour and dignity of the Country.

G. P. R."

The reply to this piece of blarney was a dutiful, or, more properly
speaking, "an humble," address, to the Regent "to return to his Royal
Highness the thanks of this House for his most gracious communication
of the intended marriage between," &c., &c., "and to express our
entire satisfaction at the prospect of an alliance with a Protestant
prince of so illustrious a family," &c. &c.--and, as a matter of
course, next day the House of Commons did what was expected of them,
and voted a grant of £60,000 a year for the young couple, with the
addition of a year's income for outfits--£40,000 for furniture,
plate, &c.; £10,000 for articles of dress for the princess; and
£10,000 to increase her Highness's jewels.

A Bill for his naturalization was brought into the House of Lords
on the 26th of March, and was speedily made law. For some reason or
other, perhaps because she was the daughter of her mother, the Prince
Regent did not like his daughter, and, at this time, his dislike was
publicly spoken of. Among other things, she was not allowed to use
the Royal livery (scarlet), a petty piece of spite, and the public
feeling at this time is very well reflected by the following extract
from the _Morning Chronicle_ of the 13th of April:

"When the Prince of Coburg came up from Brighton to the Stud-house
in Hampton Park, on Saturday last, he visited both Clermont and
Bottleys. The first cannot be let, but may be sold; the second cannot
be sold, but may be let. Clermont is a noble house, with a park of
about 350 acres, well wooded. The value, including the timber, may be
about £50,000. It is seventeen miles from town, and about the same
distance from Windsor. But, again, we ask, why purchase such a place
when there are so many palaces unoccupied?

"One reason, rather improbable indeed, is given in answer to this
question; viz., that the Prince Regent may yet have a son; and that,
to set up the Princess Charlotte in royal state as _heir apparent_ to
the throne, when, by such an event she might be disappointed of that
elevation, would be highly improper. And this reason is given for
all the proposed regulations--the revolting title of _Kendal_--the
green livery--the private houses--the restriction of drawing
rooms, &c., &c., &c. Is there lurking under this specious pretext
of future probabilities any design of a measure[18] (which recent
circumstances, we are told, have made practicable) by which they
might be realized? But, granting even the event to happen, that,
by a second marriage, the Prince Regent should have a son, surely
it would then be the proper season to make the arrangements for the
Princess Charlotte which are now establishing, and the Prince, her
august Consort, might safely rely on the generosity and justice of
the Nation for an adequate provision, in any change of circumstances
that might affect his fortune, in the proposed union. The subject is
too delicate to enlarge upon in a journal, but it is freely discussed
in the upper circles, as if it were a matter actually contemplated at
Court."

[Footnote 18: The Regent was then meditating taking
proceedings for a divorce from his wife.]

The Royal Marriage Act, which was rendered necessary by the social
escapades of the sons of George III. left and still leaves a limited
choice of husbands to the female scions of Royalty, and, as they must
be Protestants, they are confined mainly to the petty princelets
of Germany. Time does not change John Bull's feelings with regard
to such marriages, and the satirist from that time to our own, has
always ridiculed the comparative poverty of the husbands of our royal
womanhood. It was so with Prince Albert, with the Duke of Teck, and
the other German princes who have married into our Royal family. John
Bull, doubtless from his insular prejudices, does not consider these
marriages as equal, and, although he spends the money, he has the
grumble thereon to which he considers himself to be entitled.

[Illustration: "A Single Life on the Continent, Starving on Sour
Krout!!"]

Hence the satirical print given herewith called "THE CONTRAST! or
the _Ci-devant_ GERMAN CAPTAIN in good Quarters!" May, 1816. One
sketch is entitled, "A single life on the Continent, starving on Sour
Krout!!" On the ground is a paper "Thoughts on a journey to _Wales_
to seek my fortune, and better my condition." A mouse is nibbling at
a "Map of the Principality of Coburg eight hundred square feet." The
other is "Comes to England, is made a General,[19] and marries a lady
of £60,000 per annum." On the wall is a picture of Camelford House,
where the young couple spent their honeymoon; and, as a change from
his former meagre fare, is shown a huge piece of roast beef, and
Hock, Champagne, and Burgundy in abundance.

[Footnote 19: In May, 1816, he was made a General in the
British army, and afterwards Field Marshal.]

[Illustration: "Comes to England, is Made a General," &c.]

Tradesmen were as eager then, as now, to catch hold of anything
new--and consequently we find the Kendal scarf being sold, and the
Coburg hat and Kendal bonnet, which seem to have been ordinary straw
work, but "for superior quality, and pearl-like colour, must, on
inspection, have certain claim to universal patronage."

On the 2nd of the "merry month of May" they were married. The
bridegroom's costume seems to have been somewhat scanty, but yet
he appears to have been rather proud of it, for "Prince Leopold
very frequently appeared at the balcony to gratify their curiosity,
dressed in a blue coat and a star." "At two o'clock his Serene
Highness went in a curricle to Carlton House, and paid a morning
visit to his intended bride. He also rode round the exterior of
Carlton House to view his new travelling carriage. His Serene
Highness afterwards returned to Clarence House a little before
half-past three, when the crowd was so numerous, and the anxiety
to see him so great, that the footmen, in letting him out of the
carriage had nearly been pushed under it. A number of women and
children were forced into Clarence House against their will, by the
extreme pressure. In a few minutes after, his Serene Highness walked
across to York House, when the crowd behaved extremely orderly, and,
at the request of a few attendants, formed a clear passage for them
to pass through.... The Princess Charlotte of Wales, at four o'clock,
went in a carriage to the Queen's Palace, and had the windows down
to gratify the curiosity of the crowd in Pall Mall, but they were
found to be so extremely numerous, that the coachman could not, with
safety, drive through them, and went through the Park. On his coming
out to get into his carriage he was assailed by a number of females
patting him on the back, and giving him good wishes. This delay
gave a number of men an opportunity to take off the traces of the
horses, in order to draw the carriage. They were prevailed upon to
desist, but they did so (_sic_) a second time, and the Prince, it is
supposed, would have indulged them in their desire, had not accidents
been feared, and by exertions of the sentinels the traces were put
to the carriage again, and the carriage proceeded to Carlton House
amidst the loud huzzas of the populace."

After all this mobbing they got properly married, and set off for
Oatland's--the Duke of York's mansion.

The bride was dressed in white llama and silver, and, perhaps,
some of my lady readers will be pleased to hear that her frock was
"finished with a very brilliant rollio of lama," which must have
been very comforting to her. The Queen of Sheba would (to use an
Americanism) have to have taken a "back seat" compared to the dear
old Queen Charlotte, who must have been "exceeding magnifical." She
wore "a beautiful gold tissue, trimmed with a mixture of gold and
silver, having two flounces of brilliant silver net-work, richly
embossed with stripes of gold lamé, and a superb head to the flounces
of silver lamé border. The whole had a most grand, novel, and
magnificent appearance."

[Illustration: R----l Whiskers, 1816.]

The satirical prints may, generally, be taken as a reflex of popular
opinion, be it right or wrong, and the Princess was soon credited
with having the upper hand in the domestic arrangements of her new
household. She is depicted as wearing her husband's breeches, and
taking the reins when driving--but this was meant for good-humoured
badinage--not like the satires on the Regent, who was lampooned
without mercy. His clothes, his personal appearance, even his
whiskers were not allowed to pass unscathed--as the following will
show:

"1816.

R----L WHISKERS.

L'ADIEU.

_From a puissant Prince, to his cast-off whiskers, on leaving London
to make an Excursion._

Adieu, my dear Whiskers! dear Whiskers, adieu!
I ne'er shall love Whiskers, as I have lov'd you.
So becoming your form, and so brilliant your hue,
I ne'er admir'd Whiskers, as I've admir'd you.
Your curve was so lovely, so like a horse shoe,
Not a whisker at Court was so lovely as you.
The Baron Geramb's[20] were immense it is true,
But they didn't sweep round half so tasty as you,
Y---- ----'s[21] Whiskers comprise hair enough for a head,
But odious the shape, and the colour is red.
Of beauty, 'tis known, that the line is a curve,
Then the prize of all beauty you surely deserve;
For in curve so enchanting you lay on my chin,
You completely eclipsed all the _blubber_ within.
Not Ganymede's self, when he waited on Jove,
Looked the model so like of the young God of Love;
Not Apollo the bright, nor Adonis the fair,
Were like, my dear whiskers--adorn'd _to a hair_!
Not drooping Narcissus, reclin'd o'er the stream,
Himself the dear object, himself the dear theme,
Was more charm'd with _his_ face, thus presented to view,
Than I've been with _mine_, when encircl'd with you.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ."

[Footnote 20: This gentleman will be noticed in matters
theatrical.]

[Footnote 21: Lord Yarmouth.]

A life of indolence, and sensual gratification, brought with it
its concomitant punishment, and he suffered much from gout. There
is a peep at his inner life from a Newspaper paragraph of the 26th
of March, dated Brighton: "It is true that the Prince has been on
horseback, and has rode for some time about the Pavilion lawn. An
inclined plane was constructed, rising to about the height of two
feet and a half, at the upper end of which was a platform. His
Royal Highness was placed in a chair on rollers, and so moved up
the ascent, and placed on the platform, which was then raised by
screws, high enough to pass the horse under; and, finally, his Royal
Highness was let gently down into the saddle. By these means the
Regent was, undoubtedly, enabled to enjoy in some degree the benefit
of air and exercise; but the exercise implied little of spontaneous
muscular power, and cannot, certainly, be considered as a criterion
of renovated strength."

A short trip to sea was suggested as likely to be of benefit to his
health, and a Royal Yacht of some three hundred or four hundred tons
burden was hauled up and put on the slips at Deptford Dockyard to be
entirely new coppered and re-fitted throughout. The estimated cost of
doing this was over sixty thousand pounds! of which the _gilding_
alone is supposed to have absorbed nearly thirteen thousand five
hundred pounds!! Why! the very blocks to the shrouds and rigging
were fully gilt, and the whole of the internal fittings were of the
most gorgeous description. The _Royal Sovereign_ was re-launched at
Deptford on the 8th of August, 1816, and, when the workmen had done
with her, she was ordered round to Brighton, to be at the Regent's
disposal.

CHAPTER V.

And what was the general state of the Country at this time? During
the very celebration of the Princess's Wedding--the people, owing to
high price of provisions, and the stagnations of trade, were in very
evil case. In those days an empty stomach, and rioting, generally
went together, and, consequently, about this time the newspapers had
to chronicle riots of a more or less serious description. On the 6th
of May, we hear of one at Bridport where the windows of the principal
millers and bakers were smashed, and a few hogsheads of beer stolen
from a local brewer. It was soon put down by the law-abiding
inhabitants of the place, and was nothing like so serious as that
which took place at Bury St. Edmunds a few days afterwards, which
sent the Sheriff of Suffolk packing off at once to London, in order
to consult with the Home Secretary, and to request his assistance in
overcoming the rioters.

For some time there had been various agrarian outrages in the Eastern
Counties, such as breaking thrashing machines, and firing barns and
ricks, and these were supposed to have arisen because an increase of
wages had not immediately followed on the rise in the price of bread.
Impunity begat audacity, and they demanded that wheat should be sold
at half a crown a bushel, and prime joints of meat at fourpence a
pound. Some of the principal inhabitants, especially at one place,
Brandon, near Bury, temporized with the Mob, and promised them that
their demands should be complied with for a fortnight, which would
give time for their grievances to be discussed.

This satisfied them for the moment, and they dispersed giving three
cheers. But they again broke out, and, this time, destroyed some
houses--and, moreover, demonstrated with bludgeons studded with short
iron spikes, and, to shew their organization, they paraded a flag,
having the legend, "Bread, or Blood!" They threw fire balls about,
smashed the street lamps, made an attack on some mills, and stole
therefrom a quantity of flour, some of which, in their unreason, they
threw into the river, and some they carried away. Some of the West
Norfolk Militia, and a party of the first Royal Dragoons, having
arrived, they were supported by the respectable inhabitants, and for
a time some kind of order was restored.

But the demon was abroad, and men began to be riotous in other
places. In Norwich the mob smashed lamps, windows, &c., and threw
fire balls about, besides stoning and wounding the Military, Yeomanry
and Militia, who were there to keep the peace. At Bury, a Mob wanted
a manufacturer to deliver over to their sweet will, a spinning jenny,
swearing they would destroy his premises if he refused. This he had
courage enough to do, and some two hundred special Constables being
enrolled--peace was once more restored.

At Cambridge they feared an irruption of the rioters from the Fen
districts, swore in three hundred special Constables, and the Vice
Chancellor, and heads of Colleges, resolved to arm the students,
if considered necessary. But the Fen Men were busy in their own
district. They rendezvoused at Littleport, attacked the house of
the Rev. Mr. Vachel, a magistrate resident there, and wrecked it,
doing about £2,000 worth of damage. They extorted money from the
inhabitants, they nearly emptied the publican's cellars, and they
loaded a waggon with every gun they could find.

The decent people in those parts thought this was carrying a joke a
little too far, and we read, "These riots have at length terminated
by the exertions of the magistrates, aided by a number of the
gentlemen, and inhabitants of Ely, and the Royston troop of Volunteer
Cavalry, together with a small detachment of the 1st Royal Dragoons,
consisting of eighteen, who had, in the first instance, been sent
for from Bury. These proceeded in a body, on the 25th of May, to
Littleport, and a very severe struggle ensued between them and the
rioters, who had secreted themselves in different houses, and were
armed with guns, with which they fired many shots at the military
and civil power, and severely wounded one of the soldiers, but not
dangerously. The military then received orders to fire, and the man
who had wounded the soldier was instantly shot dead, and another
fell, who, having lost the lower part of his face, and part of
his tongue, is since dead. When this took place, the rioters were
completely disconcerted, and fled in every direction; but, by the
perseverance and activity of the military and civil power, no less
than seventy-three of the rioters were taken, and are now lodged in
Ely Gaol. Many more were also taken, who, appearing to have been
forced to join the mob, have been liberated. Amongst those taken,
and now under confinement, are several persons of some property,
and apparent respectability of life; and it is very evident that
rapine (not want) was the principal instigation of this unprecedented
disturbance, as the parish of Littleport, on Wednesday and Thursday
nights, resembled, in every respect, a town sacked by a besieging
army, the principal inhabitants having been compelled to abandon
their homes for the protection of their lives, and leave their
properties to the mercy of this daring banditti of robbers.

At least fifty guns and nine or ten large fowling pieces, such as
are used by gunners for the destruction of wild fowl, each carrying
at least four or five pipes[22] of powder, and as many of shot, were
taken from the rioters, and plate and other articles to the value of
£300 or £400 have been recovered."

[Footnote 22: A rough-and-ready way of loading guns,
before Cartridges and Breech loaders were introduced, was
by measuring out so many bowls of a Tobacco pipe full of
powder and shot.]

In those days the _Isle of Ely_ had a Chief Justice of its own, an
office which was only abolished by the Act 6-7 William IV. cap. 87,
and to him the King sent two Justices to hold a Commission on these
rioters, which terminated with the Capital Conviction of thirty-four
persons on charges of burglary and robbery: five of them were left
for death without hope of mercy, and, on the 28th of June, they were
duly executed.

But these riots were not merely local--say in the Eastern Counties,
they were in many parts of England.

At Bideford--there was a small riot which was soon suppressed, at
Newcastle, and upon the Wear, disturbances among the "Geordies"
about the high price of food, which wanted cavalry to suppress. More
riots in Essex--another at Honiton, where they burnt a farm house,
at Liverpool (but that was purely political). In very fact trade
was very bad, and, to give one example, I take four consecutive
paragraphs from _The Morning Chronicle_ of July 3, 1816.

"As a proof of the unprecedented stagnation of trade, one day last
week there was not a single entry for export or import at the
Custom-house of London, a circumstance without parallel in the annals
of that extensive establishment."

"In the neighbourhood of Bilston-moor, where there are many
Collieries, and a number of iron works, the workmen, consisting
of some thousands, have been thrown out of employ. They have
solicited in vain for work in Warwickshire, Staffordshire, and the
neighbourhood. With a view of drawing particular attention to their
case, they have resorted to the experiment of presenting a petition
to the Prince Regent in person, to be accompanied by a present of
three waggon loads of Coals. About fifty men are yoked to each waggon
to drag it to town. One of the waggons proceeds by the route of
Worcester; another by Coventry and Birmingham; the route of the third
is by Stourbridge. The men proceed at the rate of about twelve miles
a day, and receive voluntary gifts of money, &c., on the road as they
pass along, declining of themselves to ask alms: their motto, as
placarded on the carts, being--'Rather work than beg.'"

"Upwards of _ten thousand_ livery servants are said to be now out of
place in different parts of England, owing to the _prosperous_ state
of the times, and the numerous emigrations to foreign parts."

"The state of the times has had a very singular effect upon
livings--the threat now of taking the _tithes in kind_, no longer
alarms the farmer, as it is what he wishes the Clergyman to do; and,
on a Calculation, the value of Church preferment has diminished one
half."

I may as well tell the sequel of the Bilston expedition, and cannot
tell it better than in the words of the same newspaper.

"One body of the Colliers, with the waggon of coals from
Staffordshire, had reached Nettlebed, near Henley. Report had
mentioned two, nay, three such bodies, each with a waggon. One of
them proceeded by the road that leads to London through St. Alban's.
They reached that place, we understand, on Tuesday evening. The Home
Department had sent down Magistrates to each of the three roads,
by which the Colliers might approach the Capital. Sir Nathaniel
Conant[23] was dispatched to the St. Alban's road. The men were found
reposing on and about their waggon. The Magistrate stated to them the
impropriety of the step they had either taken of their own accord,
or by the advice of others--that this was not the mode to obtain
relief--that it rather tended to prevent the accomplishment of their
object, because it might lead to a breach of the peace. The Colliers
listened with much interest and attention to the remonstrances of
the Magistrate. It had not struck them, they said, in the light in
which he had placed it. They confessed they had been ill-advised,
and evinced a readiness to return immediately to their homes. In
consequence of this declaration, the Magistrate purchased the coals
of them, which were left to be distributed to the poor, and gave each
man as much money as would carry him back to his home.

[Footnote 23: From Bow Street.]

"Another waggon with a party of Colliers, the one which had come by
way of Henley, was met by the Magistrate at Maidenhead. The same
representations were made to the men, and with the same success as at
St. Alban's. The coals were bought, and, the men agreeing to return
home, received sufficient to carry them thither."

A few days later on, is a paragraph which shews that this method of
"stumping the Country" was coming into fashion. "The example set by
the Bilston Moor Colliers in dragging their waggons and petitions
through the Country, is likely to have many imitators. Besides those
that entered Birmingham on Wednesday and Thursday last, soliciting
relief, and who, on Friday week, passed through Wolverhampton on
their way to Liverpool, on Saturday week, a waggon load of coals,
drawn by eighty men, with ropes, arrived in Leicester. A strong
sensation of compunction for their sufferings was excited, and they
collected a considerable sum of money. A second load arrived on
Monday, but the Collection was, of course, for a smaller amount.
The men behaved remarkably well. They had a certificate of their
necessities, signed by the minister of their parish. Another team of
Colliers passed through Leicester on Tuesday last, begging their way
northwards."

A little piece of poetry very well sums up

"ENGLAND IN 1816.

In eighteen hundred ten and six
Old England's glory some would fix:
Peace throughout Europe; Royal Marriages,
New Streets, new Palaces, and Carriages.
New Stars, new Ribbons, and new Crosses,
A Coinage new, whate'er the loss is--
Splendid new Bridges, splendid Lights,
And Columns destined for our Knights!
Sounds not this well? Then who would think
We stood on ruin's very brink?
For, now the Picture but capsize
And view it with your proper eyes.
In London, flashy shops behold,
And new Bazaars, but nothing sold;
In every street, a carpet out,
That shews my Lady on her route,
To spend her poor remains in France,
And teach her children how to dance.
Then for the Country--Farmers breaking,
Clothiers half ruin'd, Landlords quaking,
A solemn gloom, no sun, no hay day
Between this very hour and Lady.
The Corn, too, laid, and some say rotting,
The Luddites up in arms, or plotting--
The panic general, and the Stocks
As flat, almost, as the New Docks--
Then a Subscription by the Great,
Lest all our poor should emigrate,
A boon that seems too sure a test
Of apprehension for the _rest_.
But last, and worst, a Ministry in doubt,
Too weak to stand, too strong to be turned out."

In August we had riots in Glasgow and Preston, and this in spite of
the "Association for the Relief of the Manufacturing and Labouring
poor." Nay, even the prisoners in Newgate caught the infection,
and organized a riot of their own, which had a somewhat frivolous
beginning. On the 25th of August a visitor to the prison had his
watch stolen, and naturally complained of the matter to the Keeper,
who ordered all the convicts and their visitors to be searched, and
no more visitors allowed until the watch was found. The Convicts
considered this as a breach of their privileges, and not only refused
to be searched, but took possession of the Common Yard, and turned
out, by force, all the officers, and turnkeys. Of course, this
conduct could not be allowed, and the Convicts were ultimately driven
into the upper wards--where, being armed with the iron railings of
the staircase, they barricaded themselves as well as they could, and
awaited results.

The Keeper, on his side, did not like the look of things; he did
not want any of his force injured, as they probably would be, if
they attempted to force the wards, held by these desperadoes--and
he disposed his men, so as to watch them well, to see they did
not escape, and then sent for instructions to the Lord Mayor and
Sheriffs, but all three were out of town. However, the Lord Mayor
arrived on the Scene about two in the morning, and waited till six to
see if the malcontents would yield--but, as there seemed no chance
of this, they were informed, when the usual time of calling them to
breakfast arrived, that unless they surrendered, they would have no
food that day. This was an _argumentum ad hominem_ not to be denied.
One soon gave in, and, within an hour, they were all secured.

Yet another Royal Marriage: which took place on the 22nd of July,
between William Frederick, Duke of Gloucester, grandson of Frederick,
Prince of Wales, to his cousin, the Princess Mary, fourth daughter
of Geo. III., and, consequently, his cousin. It was a suitable
marriage, for they were born in the same year (1776), and had long
been attached to each other. There was nothing particular about
the ceremony except that it was solemnized in the grand saloon in
the Queen's palace, where an altar was erected--and transformed,
according to the fashion of Royal Marriages, into an unmeaning buffet
of plate. "The gold Communion plate was the most massive and costly
that ever was displayed upon one occasion. It consisted of the
Altar plate belonging to King William; from Whitehall Chapel, two
uncommonly large dishes, richly chased with appropriate devices of
our Lord's last supper with His disciples; the compartments round the
dishes having also appropriate designs. Two immensely large flagons,
from the Chapel Royal, beautifully chased; also a large number of
ewers; several chalices, or cups of solid gold. Each corner had most
superbly gilt tripods for six candles."

By way of contrast, and also to illustrate the manners, of the times,
let us read the following account of a "SINGULAR WEDDING. Tuesday
evening the neighbourhood of Drury Lane was thrown into the utmost
confusion, in consequence of an extraordinary phenomenon very seldom
witnessed. Some _sweeps_, residing in Charles Street, having been
married, they resolved to celebrate the day, and, about eight o'clock
in the evening, the bride and bridegroom, attended by eleven couples
more, all mounted on asses, and followed by several hundreds of
spectators, with tin pots, horns, dust bells, watchmen's rattles,
flambeaux, etc., proceeded through Drury Lane, and made their grand
entrance into Holborn up Newton Street to the Bank public-house,
where they stopped to get some refreshment; but in forming the
procession again, the bride's Arabian was unfortunately thrown down
by the pressure of the mob, and the lady precipitated in the mud.
This enraged the bridegroom, who immediately dismounted, and began
by dealing several blows among his neighbours, with extreme fury.
The consequence was, that a general battle ensued, and several heads
were broken. Gardner, the beadle of that district, came up, backed
by about a dozen Knights of the lanthorn, who succeeded in securing
several of the sable warriors, which finally dispersed the merry
group."

_Apropos_ of chimney sweeps, we know that there was much legislation
in behalf of the climbing boys, who were still much used, as a great
deal of senseless prejudice and opposition prevailed against the use
of Machines: and that these poor boys needed some protection from
their brutal masters, the following case on the 10th of July, at the
Middlesex Sessions will show.

"At ten o'clock yesterday morning, the trial of William Molys took
place at Hick's Hall. Our readers will recollect that the prisoner
was a master sweep, and lately stood his trial at the Old Bailey,
on a charge of murder, for having, by brutal treatment, caused the
death of John Hewlings, a child of five or six years of age, his
apprentice. He was, however, acquitted of this charge, but retained
on an indictment for an assault on the same child.

"To this charge the prisoner pleaded Not Guilty.

"Mr. Walford, for the prosecution, stated the case. He related
several cases of atrocious violence on the part of the prisoner
towards the deceased John Hewlings, who was little more than five
years old, and had been for a few months his apprentice. The learned
gentleman's statement was fully confirmed in evidence.

"Elizabeth Ware proved that she saw the prisoner striking at the
child's legs with a brush, to force him up a chimney, which he was
unable to ascend, and then dragging him down, and dashing him with
violence against the floor. The child screamed bitterly.

"Sarah Reeves corroborated the last Witness's testimony, and added,
that the Prisoner declared he would 'serve the boy out' when he got
him home. The boy complained bitterly that his knees were hurt.

"Anne Chandler proved that the prisoner came to her house in
Whitechapel on the 23rd of April, with the deceased boy and another,
to sweep a chimney, into which he put up the former, who stuck in the
flue for nearly an hour. The prisoner was, at length, prevailed upon
to get to the top of the chimney, and extricate the child, which he
did, with loud imprecations upon him. The moment he got him down,
he knocked him against a chest of drawers in the room; and when the
child, almost senseless from the blow, was endeavouring to recover
himself, he kicked him across the chamber, and, in this case, as in
the former, repeated his asseveration that he would _serve him out_
when he got him home.

"Mary Craig, who lived next door to the prisoner, proved, that on
helping the wife of the latter, who was drunk, into her own house,
she saw the child on the ground near the prisoner, who desired him to
get up, which he was unable to do without the assistance of a stick.
Witness looked at the boy's leg, which she found greatly swollen. At
her suggestion, the prisoner rubbed the wounded part with ointment,
and when he found the boy still unable to walk, he dashed him on the
ground.

"George Rose, and Esther Jacobs, proved their having, on the 23rd of
April, while accidentally passing near the prisoner's house, been
alarmed with screams and cries of Murder, and Mercy. Rose kicked
in the door, and upbraided the prisoner and his wife with their
unnatural conduct. The latter held a strap in her hand, with which
she avowed she had been beating the child, and repeated that she
would do so again.

"The prisoner, on being called upon for his defence, put in a written
paper, containing a general denial of the charge, and stating that he
was a victim of persecution. He did not call any witnesses.

"The Court then summed up the evidence, and the Jury instantaneously
returned a verdict of Guilty. The Court, after severely animadverting
on the atrocity of the prisoner's guilt, sentenced him to two years'
imprisonment."

All Londoners know the Mortar on the Parade of the Horse Guards,
which was taken from the French at the siege of Cadiz in 1812,
and presented by the Cortes to the Prince of Wales. Its elaborate
allegorical carriage makes it a notable feature. It was uncovered
on the Prince Regent's birthday, August 12, 1816, and from that
moment it was assailed with a storm of ridicule principally addressed
_at_ the Regent. Pictorially the satires would scarcely suit this
fastidious age, but some rather smart things were written anent it
both in prose and rhyme. Of the latter, the following caustic epigram
is a good example:--

"ON A RECENT EMBELLISHMENT OF THE METROPOLIS.

Useless, and hollow, and unsound,
And silly splendour all the plan,
With venom'd reptiles guarded round,
How like the Mortar to the Man!"

As the noble game of Cricket is now played, the stumps are drawn
about sunset. In order to decide a match, would it not be practicable
to take example by the following? "Cricket by Candle Light.--A match
was played a few days ago, by night, on Sedley-green, near Bexhill,
between Mr. S. Beaching, and Mr. J. Thomas, to be decided in one
innings, which was won by the former. On this occasion, lanthorns
were placed in different parts of the ground, and upwards of one
hundred persons witnessed this nocturnal contest."

This use of lanthorns shows that gas had not reached country
neighbourhoods, nor has it yet in too many cases. Yet it was making
its way in the large towns. In August the town of Preston, in
Lancashire, was partially lit by gas, and this daring feat is thus
recorded: "The length of the main pipes already laid is one thousand
yards; and in this space it is estimated that more than nine hundred
lights, emitting flame equal to four thousand mould candles of six
to the pound, will be attached to the main pipes in the ensuing
winter. The plan of lighting a considerable space by means of a
single burner, placed at an elevated situation, has been carried into
effect at Preston. In the centre of the Marketplace, which is of
considerable area, there happens to be a handsome Gothic Column 36
feet in height: on the top of this is placed a vase, in which is the
burner; and it thus becomes the substitute of twenty-five common oil
lamps, but with an effect which could not be equalled by double the
number, placed in the most advantageous positions." The Chronicler's
figures appear to be rather hazy, for with one flame of four and a
half candle gas it is difficult to imagine a light given equal to
fifty oil lamps.

The Silver Coinage was getting into a dreadfully worn condition
(by the way, ours is nothing to boast of), and it had been settled
that a new coinage of shillings and sixpences, to the extent of
£2,500,000 should be minted; but, "as the period for the issue of the
new coin approached, the fears of the retail dealers became general,
lest the plain English shillings and sixpences should be confounded
with the French ones, and the whole refused. It was at Hull, early
in September, where the tradespeople first refused to receive at
their normal value, all plain shillings, or, in other words, all not
appearing to be clearly of our own legal currency. In the Metropolis,
it was at Billingsgate market, on the 20th of September, where
plain shillings and sixpences were first indiscriminately refused;
from thence, the refusal of them spread through the Borough, and,
in the evening, became general throughout the Metropolis. A great
stagnation, in all retail trades suddenly, and naturally, ensued,
and the lower orders were disposed to commit disturbances in almost
every market. This embarrassing and dangerous state of things being
made known to the Lord Mayor, his lordship took immediate measures
to preserve the peace of the City, not by means of force, but by
promptly communicating to the public, from the Mansion House, a
notice, of which the following is a Copy:

"SILVER COIN.--_Take Notice._--The Bank of England do not refuse
any shillings or sixpences on account of their being plain,
provided they are English.

"By order of the Lord Mayor,

"FRANCIS HOBLER.

"_Saturday Morning_, Sept. 21, 1816.

"In consequence of the above notice, people assembled in crowds
to take their silver to the Bank, for which they received Bank
of England Notes and tokens."

This somewhat palliated the small panic, but it was more allayed
by another proclamation from "Wood, Mayor," that the Secretary of
State for the Home Department gave notice, that "all shillings and
sixpences that can be considered as of the Established Standard in
fineness, will be exchanged for new silver coin when it is issued;"
and a further notice, "that all kind of shillings, now, or lately in
circulation, are taken at the Bank of England, with the exception of
French, or base metal; they therefore recommend to all shopkeepers,
dealers, and others, in order to prevent any breach of the peace, to
take such silver above named, as usual," perfectly tranquilized the
public mind.

We shall, next year, hear more about the new Coinage, which was being
coined at the rate of nearly 300,000 coins per diem.

CHAPTER VI.

Smuggling -- "Resurrection Men" -- More riots -- Orator Hunt --
Meetings at Spa Fields -- Riots arising therefrom -- Execution
of one of the rioters -- The King's health.

Smuggling, and illicit distilling, were reckoned among venial crimes,
but both were practised to an extent unknown at the present time. Let
us take a few examples in chronological order.

January 31st. "A band of twenty-eight smugglers were met with lately,
loaded with bladders full of smuggled whiskey, supposed to amount to
140 gallons, on their way from the Highlands to Glasgow. The Excise
Officers, who met them, being only two in number, dared not attack
them, and they all got off."

The next reminds us somewhat forcibly of some late smuggling from
one of Her Majesty's yachts: "February 23rd. The following singular
occurrence, has, it is reported, taken place, very recently, at
Woolwich. A transport, laden with Ordnance Stores unfit for further
service, arrived from the French Coasts for the purpose of returning
them, and remained some days before the unloading began: it at
length took place, when, it is added, some inquisitive officers of
the Customs requested to examine the Contents of the articles, and
discovered that what was considered, and marked on the packages, as
shot, shell, rockets, and other combustibles, consisted of Claret,
Champagne, silks, lace, &c. The whole, it is said, were immediately
seized, amounting to a considerable sum."

This plan seems to have been tried on again, for in the _Annual
Register_, 30th March, is a similar case, in which it is said that
there were goods to the value of £7,000, for one man, packed up as
"Return Congreve Rockets."

The same Magazine, copying from a Glasgow paper, gives under date
August 30th, the following: "How much soever the regular commerce
of the Country is impaired by the present pressure, there is no
question that the smuggling trade continues in extreme vivacity. This
extraordinary traffic appears to be conducted with a publicity that
could scarcely be credited but on the testimony of one's own sight.
The Smugglers, or as they are styled from the manner of Conveying
the Whiskey, _Flaskers_, go in large bands on the highroads in open
day, and laugh at the traveller, who, by his looks, expresses wonder
at contravention of the law so undisguised, and yet so undetected.
On Monday night, for instance, a gang of twenty-four, with the
order of so many soldiers, and under the directions of a leader who
frequently called on those lagging behind 'to keep up,' marched
through Springbank, and the neighbouring hamlets to Cowcaddens (in
the suburbs of Glasgow), where, in the face of numbers of persons,
some of whom bawled out 'Success to Smuggling,' they entered a house,
and deposited their laden flasks, until the shades of night would
enable them to penetrate in safety to their re-setters in Glasgow. We
are informed that the places of distillation are nearly as notorious
to the inhabitants of their vicinity, as the methods of conveyance;
and whoever of the neighbours choose to make a visit to the popular
distillers are regaled with undiluted spirit, wherewith to drink
confusion to the Excise. Smuggled whiskey has, it is said, fallen
recently 4s. or 5s. a gallon."

"November 28th. One night last week, some smugglers displaced the
layer of a tomb in the Churchyard at Fareham, and deposited therein
several large kegs of contraband Spirits; but certain officers being
on the watch, they had an early resurrection."

This rifling the tomb was infinitely better than that of those
ghouls, the body-snatchers, or resurrection men. In _The Morning
Chronicle_ of the 23rd of November is reported a "Riot and
Combination amongst the Resurrection men. Tuesday evening (18th
November) the inhabitants of Canterbury Square were extremely
alarmed, in consequence of a riot, which assumed the most alarming
aspect, having taken place at the house of Mr. Millard, beadle to the
dissecting room of Guy's Hospital, whose family were attacked by a
desperate gang of resurrection men, namely, Benjamin Crouch (Captain
of the gang), James Hollis, William Naples, Patrick Garneth, Peter
Hannagan, Israel Chapman, and several others, who were proceeding to
acts of violence, and threatening destruction to the family of Mr.
Millard, in consequence of his infringing on their profession, by
employing men ignorant of their art in procuring subjects for the
numerous students at the Hospital.

"Their vengeance, it appears, arose from the circumstance of two
or three persons having been employed by the surgeons to procure
subjects on one occasion, which came to their knowledge, and they
were determined to be revenged on the beadle, who was not at all
concerned. The inhabitants having collected, the rioters announced
that their allowance must be raised from four guineas to six; that
they would allow fourteen days for an answer, and, unless their
demand was complied with, they would pay the beadle a more severe
visit: at the same time wishing it to be made known that they could
command trade, bad as the times were; and, in the Country, their
payment was no less than £20, on some occasions. The mob became
exasperated, and, but for the interference of Mr. Millard, would
have torn them to pieces. They, however, got clear off, and Mr.
Millard applied to the Magistrates at Union Hall, where he procured a
warrant for their apprehension. Some of the party were held to bail,
a few weeks ago, at the complaint of Mr. Ashley Cooper, for a similar
offence."

"October 21st. MARLBOROUGH STREET.--It was stated, yesterday, that
a most extraordinary affair happened at Mr. Brooke's, The Theatre
of Anatomy, Blenheim Street. On Sunday evening, a man having been
delivered there as a _subject_ (a technical name for a dead man for
dissection), in a sack--who, when in the act of being rolled down the
steps, to the vaults, turned out to be alive, and was conveyed, in a
state of nudity to St. James's Watch-house.

"Curiosity had led many hundreds of persons to the watch-house,
and it was with difficulty the _subject_ could be conveyed to this
Office, where there was also a great assemblage. The _Subject_ at
length arrived. He stated his name to be Robert Morgan, by trade a
smith. John Bottomley, a hackney Coachman, was charged also with
having delivered Morgan tied up in the Sack. The _Subject_ appeared
in the sack, in the same way in which he was taken, with this
difference, that holes had been made to let his arms through.

"The evidence of Mr. Brookes afforded much merriment. He stated that
on Sunday evening, soon after seven o'clock, his servant informed
him, through the medium of a pupil, that a coachman had called
to inquire if he wanted a _subject_, from Chapman, a notorious
resurrection man. Mr. B. agreed to have it, and in about five minutes
afterwards, a Coach was driven up to the door, and a man, answering
to the description of Bottomley, brought Morgan in a sack, as a dead
body, laid him in the passage, at the top of the kitchen stairs, and
walked away without taking any further notice. On Harris, witness's
servant, taking hold of the subject's feet, which protruded through
the bottom of the sack, he felt them warm, and that the subject was
alive.

"Here the prisoner Morgan, who seems to have enjoyed the narrative,
with others, burst out into a fit of laughter.

"Mr. Burrowes--the Magistrate: Is it usual, Mr. Brookes, when you
receive a subject, to have any conversation with the parties who
deliver it?

"Mr. Brookes: Sometimes; but dead bodies are frequently left, and I
recompense the procurers at my leisure.

"Mr. Brookes resumed his evidence, and stated that he put his foot
upon the sack, upon being called by his servant, and kicked it down
two steps, when the subject called out 'I'm alive,' and, forcing
half his naked body out of the sack, threw the whole house into
alarm. (Here the _subject_ again laughed heartily.) Conceiving that
the prisoner's intent was concealment, for the purpose of inducing
others to commit felony, witness armed himself with the bar of a
shutter, one of his pupils brought a poker, and gave his weapon to
another man in the house, whilst he flew upstairs for his pistols,
which were unloaded; but the prisoner seemed inclined to resist, and
witness said to him, 'Resign, or else I'll shoot you like a bug, and
then dissect you in five minutes.' A Constable was sent for, and the
_subject_ was taken to the watch-house. He denied any knowledge of
how he came there, and said he had been made very drunk.

"After Mr. Brookes had returned from the watch-house to enter the
charge against Morgan, he saw Bottomley loitering about the street,
and, on scrutinizing his dress, it answered that of the person who
had left Morgan there. There was another hackney Coachman with
Bottomley.

"Mr. Brookes' testimony was corroborated by Mr. Salmon, one of his
pupils, and by Henry Harris his servant. The latter was confronted
with Bottomley, and he believed him to be the man who had left Morgan.

"In defence, Morgan said, that he had returned from Teddington,
Middlesex, on Sunday, where he had been three days at work; that he
had drunk freely on the road to London. He came through Westminster
and the Park; and, in Oxford Street, a man picked him up, and
made him so drunk, that he entirely lost his senses, and had no
recollection until he awoke from his stupor at Mr. Brookes's. He had
no wrong intention, and he had lost 5s. and some apparel.

"Mr. Brookes stated, and he was confirmed in it, that the man was
not drunk, when at his house, and the manner of his extricating
himself from the sack, clearly demonstrated it."

Bottomley, in his defence, denied all knowledge of Morgan, and the
Magistrate remanded them; but the Newspaper does not tell the sequel.

Undoubtedly, there was great distress throughout the nation, and
there were riots all over the country. On October 18th there was
a Corn riot at Sunderland, where, at market, owing to an advance
in price, the Mob took away the Corn from the farmers by force,
and openly divided the spoil among themselves: but some of the
ringleaders were arrested.

There were riots, and somewhat serious ones, too, in the iron
districts of Wales, owing to a reduction of wages occurring
simultaneously with a rise in provisions, and the Military had to be
called out. A riot took place at Calder Ironworks, near Glasgow, and
there the Military had to back up the Civil power. A Corn Riot about
the same time at Walsall, where the windows of several bakers were
smashed, and a New Mill gutted; here, too, the soldiers were called
out--and, a little later in the year, food riots at Dundee.

[Illustration: Henry Hunt, Esq.

"I well know the superiority of _mental_ over _physical_ force;
while we have the power of exercising the _former_, we cannot be
justified in resorting to the _latter_" (his speech, November
15, 1816).]

It was scarcely to be expected that London would escape scot free,
and we find that she came in for her share. There was at this time
a violent Mob orator named Henry Hunt, who, after the manner of
his kind, was very fond of hearing himself speak. He was born on
the 6th of November, 1773, in Wiltshire, and was a farmer, but,
having imbibed violent Radical ideas, farming was too unexciting an
occupation for him, and, embarking on the troubled sea of politics,
he became the darling of the Mob. It is not in the scope of this work
to speak of him except in connection with the "Spa Fields Riots," but
I may mention that in 1819 he was sentenced to two and a half years'
imprisonment, to pay a fine of £1,000, and to find security for his
future good behaviour. He died in 1835.

There was, unfortunately, a great deal of distress, but this was in
the way of being met by giving employment on works for the general
good, in the Country, and in London by very munificent donations,
such as £5,000 from the Prince Regent. But public distress always has
been the demagogue's opportunity; he has very little chance of being
heard when working men are well employed and contented, and Henry
Hunt was equal to the occasion.

On Friday, the 15th of November, about twenty thousand persons
assembled in Spa Fields in consequence of a Requisition from a
Committee in Shoreditch (which Requisition had been placarded all
over the East End of London some days previously) addressed to
distressed tradesmen, manufacturers, and mariners, calling upon them
to meet for the purpose of adopting some measures with a view to
their relief. The people began to assemble, and by half-past twelve
many thousands were in the fields. But as no one came to address
them, many were going away, when a Coach drove up, and from its
window, an announcement was made that Mr. Hunt, of Bristol, was
coming.

When the Coach stopped, a Rev. Mr. Parkes scrambled on to its top,
whence he delivered a sensible introductory speech, in which he said:
"The occasion was important and critical, and it behoved the people
to conduct themselves with dignity and firmness. If they acted with
due moderation--if they adhered to the Constitution--their present
suffering, even severe as it was, might serve to approximate their
complete salvation. But intemperance and riot must injure their
cause. (_Applause._)."

He kept on speaking until the arrival of Hunt, who, not satisfied
with his predecessor's platform, retired to a public-house,
"The Merlin's Cave" (still the same sign, 131, Rosoman Street,
Clerkenwell), where he addressed the assembly, from a window.
During his speech he frequently waved a tricolor flag, green,
white, and red, which bore these inscriptions: "Bread to feed the
Hungry"--"Truth to crush the Oppressors"--"Justice to punish Crimes."

He certainly began his speech with references to the general
distress, but he soon drifted on to the subject of Reform, and tried
to excite his audience by drawing attention to the Royal, and other
Incomes. Here is a specimen of his oratory: "You have all heard of
George Canning, that impudent dog, that vile, unprincipled, unmanly
calumniator of the people--that miscreant, whose language failed
him in applying disgraceful epithets to you: but you do not know
his family; nay, I do not believe he knows his own grandfather. Yet
Mother Hunn, who brought this hopeful cub into the world (without
knowing who was his father), had £500 for the useful event, and her
worthy daughters had also £500 each."[24] And in another part of his
speech is reported to have said: "I know well the superiority of
_mental_ over _physical_ force: while we have the power of exercising
the _former_, we cannot be justified in resorting to the latter."
This might be construed into a sort of "Don't nail his ear to the
pump"--and was remembered as such on the 2nd of December.

[Footnote 24: Hunt must have known he was lying, for
George Canning was born in London in 1770. His family was
originally of Foxcote, in Warwickshire, and one of his
ancestors had emigrated to Ireland, at the commencement of
the seventeenth century, as agent of a company of Londoners
in the plantation of Ulster, and settled at Garvagh, in
the county of Londonderry. His father, George Canning,
who had been educated for the bar, to which he was called
by the Society of the Middle Temple, having offended his
parents by marrying a lady inferior to him both in rank and
fortune, was cut off by them with a pittance of £150 per
annum. Finding himself thus discarded by his family, who
possessed considerable property in Ireland, he left that
country, and removed with his wife to London, where, after
unavailing efforts to enlarge the means of subsistence, he
died broken-hearted, in a year after the birth of his son.]

Well, he made his Speech, and proposed some Resolutions which were
cut and dried, and moved that they be embodied in a Petition to the
Regent, which was to be personally presented to him. This Motion was
carried by acclamation, and it was afterwards moved that Mr. Hunt,
and Sir Francis Burdett, should present it. Hunt said he never had
been to Court--that he never wished to go there, and, therefore, he
requested that the meeting would not send him there.

The Meeting, however, adopted the proposition, and Hunt said "That,
having good health, with a willing heart, he should comply with the
wish of the Meeting. He should, to-morrow, in conjunction with Sir
Francis Burdett, seek out the Regent wherever he was to be found,
whether at Carlton House, the Stud House, the Brighton Pavilion, or
Manchester Square[25] (_laughter and applause_); for, thank God, his
horses had not yet been taken from him by the oppressive hands of the
taxgatherer."

[Footnote 25: Hereford House.]

The meeting then broke up in a very orderly manner.

On the 2nd of December another meeting was convened at Spa Fields to
hear Hunt's account of his stewardship. He duly arrived, and went
into "The Merlin's Cave." Addressing the Mob, he said that having
found that Sir Francis Burdett was at Brighton, he determined to do
their will by himself. "I went, then, first of all, to Carlton House,
where, being admitted, I inquired if I could have an audience of
his Royal Highness the Prince Regent, for the purpose of presenting
your Petition to him. I was told, there was no way of presenting that
Petition, unless at the Prince's Levée, or by the Secretary of State
for the Home Department, that is, Lord Sidmouth, you know. I then
inquired when a Levée would take place, and was told it was quite
uncertain, at least none would be for some time."

He then thought he was entitled to use his own discretion, and waited
upon Lord Sidmouth, which he did, having first written his lordship a
letter, and enclosing the Petition. He was received by Lord Sidmouth
most courteously, and afterwards spoke of his reception in terms
of eulogy. His lordship assured him that what had been told him at
Carlton House was perfectly true, and that he would present the
petition to his Royal Highness without delay; adding (to quote Hunt's
speech), "that since the present family had come to the throne, no
answer had ever been given to any Petition, unless presented by the
Corporation of London, or by the two Universities, that, when he,
himself, as Secretary of State, presented a Petition, he made his
bow, and went on, and if I went to the Levée, I could only do the
same.--Ah! Gentlemen, this is the Court Fashion. I told you I did not
wish to go there."

But, either the fact of his going to Court, or his subsequent
knowledge of popular feeling, made him far quieter in his after
speech; and, although the Resolutions proposed were far too advanced
to be accepted by the moderate Reformers, there was not the same
rancour in his speech, or the Resolutions, as in his previous
speeches, and the meeting, as a whole, was very orderly.

But, as we have the unfortunate example in our own times--not so very
long ago, in Trafalgar Square--the calling together of a Mass meeting
does not always guarantee that the gathering shall consist entirely
of persons interested in the object of the meeting--the thing is
impossible. The gathering of a crowd is the rough's opportunity, and
the greater the Crowd, the greater his chance. If, to this, are added
the thousands of fools who go to look on, get mixed up in the mob,
and occasionally get a cracked head, broken arm, or are trampled on,
as reward for their folly, we have the same mob to-day as there was
in 1816.

I cannot believe that Hunt, or any of those who were absolutely
around him, ever for a moment foresaw, or could have conceived, the
outcome of this Meeting. The former one, on November 15th, was marked
by its order; their petition had been courteously received, and
presented to the Regent; but the roughs only want a Cry and a Crowd,
and both were afforded them; hence the subsequent riot.

In fact, it was before the business commenced that a waggon drove up
bedecked with tricolor flags and mottoes--the same sort of thing that
we could, if we were foolish enough to go and look, see two or three
Sundays in the year in Hyde Park--where the leather-lunged patriots
belch forth their opinions--and in it was the typical Mob-orator, "a
young man," named Watson. He was something in the Medical profession,
and not being successful in that branch of industry, tried, as needy
patriots will do, to turn instructor of the people. He is reported to
have made a very inflammatory speech, and "at the close he asked them
if they would accompany him? There was a Cry on the part of some that
they would, to any place. 'And, will you protect me?' he said.--They
replied, 'As long as life remained.'

"He jumped off the waggon, and headed the Mob, which went from Spa
Fields to Skinner Street, and whose disgraceful conduct is detailed
below; but who appeared to have had no other connection with the
Meeting in Spa Fields than being on the spot where it was held. There
is, indeed, no doubt, from the circumstances that occurred, that the
greater number of those men who behaved so outrageously in the City,
came to Spa Fields with a premeditated design not to take any part in
the business of the Meeting, but to commit riot, as it appears that
about two hundred men, chiefly dressed like sailors, had no sooner
arrived there, than they found the man above mentioned ready to
lead them, and they immediately followed him. These formed the chief
part of the Mob in the City. It is evident, therefore, that all this
was the result of some previously concerted plan, but it is equally
evident that the plan had no connection with the Spa Fields meeting,
the people who came to attend it remaining perfectly quiet, and
taking no part in these outrageous proceedings....

"The Lord Mayor, as on the former day of meeting at Spa Fields, took
every precaution for the purpose of preserving the public peace; but,
serious apprehensions being entertained that on the present occasion
mischief and outrage were contemplated by the misguided populace,
additional measures were adopted. The Ward Constables, who had been
considerably augmented, assembled at an early hour, and the following
notice was posted on large boards, and not only fixed in conspicuous
places, but carried about various parts of the City, by order of his
Lordship:--

"'OUR SOVEREIGN LORD THE KING

Chargeth and commandeth all persons being assembled,
immediately to disperse themselves, and peaceably depart to
their habitations, or to their lawful business, upon the pains
contained in the Acts of the first year of King George--for
preventing Tumults and Riotous Assemblies.

'GOD SAVE THE KING.'

"The Lord Mayor, who was actively engaged all the morning in devising
his arrangements, suddenly received information that a body of
rioters, headed by a young man (whose name was said to be Watson),
and who addressed the multitude at an early hour in Spa Fields, was
on its way, by Clerkenwell, to the City. They had, in fact, already
reached Snow Hill, and it was impossible, at the moment, to stop
their career. Upon their arrival at Snow Hill, three of the rioters,
marching some distance before the multitude, entered the shop of Mr.
Beckwith, the gunmaker, and demanded arms. Their companions were not
in sight, and their demand was opposed. This, however, so exasperated
these desperate wretches, that one of them, dressed in a sailor's
habit, drew forth a pistol, and shot a Mr. Platt in the groin.

"Mr. Platt is a young man of respectability, and resides in Cateaton
Street. He was a mere casual visitant at the shop, and the ruffians
escaped, the mob coming up at the moment, and the former intermixing
with it.

"After rifling the shop of all the arms it contained, they formed a
new procession, and bent their way towards Cheapside, not forgetting,
however, to lodge a few balls in the windows of a house in Newgate
Street, on the way, where they fired for the purpose of annoying a
gentleman who had retreated from the displeasure of the mob.

"The Lord Mayor, being apprized of their movements, set out,
accompanied by a few officers, and came up with the party at the
Royal Exchange. They were about three hundred in number, and fifty
appeared armed with all kinds of weapons, viz., swords, pistols,
musquets, blunderbusses, &c. Their leader (as we understand, Mr.
Watson) carried before him a large tricoloured flag, on which were
written the following sentiments:--

"'Nature--Feed the Hungry.
Truth--Protect the Distressed.
Justice--Punish Crime.'

"Upon their arrival at the Exchange, the name of the Lord Mayor
was mentioned, as being very active, when he was instantly greeted
with the shouts of the multitude. This ill-timed approbation had no
effect upon his Lordship's conduct, and, seeing the mob turn into
Sweeting's Alley, close to the Royal Exchange, he entered that place
at the southern side, and, the mob not being able to retreat through
so narrow a lane, they entered, of necessity, the Exchange by the
eastern door. They were instantly summoned to surrender, and, after
discharging a few pieces of musquetry, were overcome, and their arms
seized. The leader only, and two others, were kept in custody.

"A proper force was then stationed at the Exchange, it being
apprehended that the party would return to seek their arms, and
to rescue their companions. At the Bank there was also a military
guard, consisting of about two hundred of the Guards ready accoutred.
Independently of this, the East London Militia were under arms,
and numbers of persons, contiguously resident, applied to offer
themselves to serve the temporary office of Constable, and were
accordingly sworn in.

"About half-past two o'clock, an account reached the Mansion House,
that the mob had risen in considerable numbers, in and about the
Minories, had broken open the houses of two gunsmiths there (Messrs.
Ray's and Brandon's), and robbed the place of every piece of firearms
that could be found. With these, they again rallied a force, and
commenced an attack on the soldiery at the top of the Minories, in
Aldgate High Street. After a short delay here, however, they were
completely beaten, and retired towards the Tower, where, to render
the scene more ridiculous, some of the party actually proposed the
surrender of that place. In the struggle between the soldiery and the
mob, in the Minories, it was said that one of the Guards fell, but we
could not trace the account to any authentic source."

After doing this, the Mob dispersed in every direction, whooping and
yelling, breaking a few windows, rifling a few butchers' stalls,
robbing a few people of their purses and watches, and then the riot
was all over.

Mr. Platt, the Gentleman who was shot, lingered some time, but
eventually died of his wound, and, on the 12th of March, 1817, his
murderer, Cashman, was hanged in front of Mr. Beckwith's shop. His
end was not edifying. The Mob was howling at him, "and Cashman
joined his voice to the shouts, crying out, 'Hurrah! my Boys,
I'll die like a man.' On his quitting the Cart, and mounting the
Scaffold, the groans were redoubled; he seemed to enter into the
spirit of the Spectators, and joined in their exclamations with a
terrific shout.... He now turned towards Mr. Beckwith's house, in an
angry manner, and, shaking his head, said: 'I'll be with you,----
there'; meaning that he would haunt the house after his death. The
executioner having quitted the platform, the unfortunate wretch
addressed the crowd nearest them, and exclaimed: 'Now, you----, give
me three cheers when I trip.' And then, calling to the executioner,
he cried out: 'Come, Jack, you----, let go the jib-boom.' He was
cheering at the instant the fatal board fell."

The fullest details of the King's life and illness are given us
in January. After the usual bulletin, dated January 5th, _The
Gentleman's Magazine_ gives us as follows:--"The public bulletins
which have been issued for some months past, have all stated that
his Majesty's disorder remains undiminished; and we understand that
it is the opinion of the medical gentlemen attending him, that
nothing far short of a miracle can bring about a recovery from his
afflicting malady. At times, we are happy to learn, he is tolerably
composed. The number of persons specially appointed by the doctors is
reduced from six to two, and his principal pages are admitted, and
have been for some time, to attend upon him, as when he enjoyed good
health.--His Majesty dines at half-past one o'clock, and, in general,
orders his dinner: he invariably has roast beef upon the tables on
Sundays. He dresses for dinner, wears his orders, &c.

"He occupies a suite of thirteen rooms (at least he, and his
attendants) which are situated on the North side of Windsor Castle,
under the State rooms. Five of the thirteen rooms are wholly devoted
to the personal use of the King. Dr. John Willis sleeps in the sixth
room, adjoining, to be in readiness to attend his Majesty. Dr. John
attends the Queen every morning after breakfast, about half-past ten
o'clock, and reports to her the state of the afflicted monarch; the
Doctor, afterwards, proceeds to the Princesses, and other branches
of the Royal family, who may happen to be at Windsor, and makes a
similar report to them. In general the Queen returns with Dr. Willis,
through the state rooms, down a private staircase, leading into
the King's suite of rooms, appropriated to this special purpose.
Sometimes she converses with her Royal husband. The Queen is the
only person who is admitted to this peculiar privilege, except the
medical gentlemen, and his Majesty's personal attendants. In case of
Dr. John Willis's absence, Dr. Robert Willis, his brother, takes his
place. The other medical gentlemen take it in rotation to be in close
attendance upon the King.

"The suite of rooms which his Majesty and his attendants occupy, have
the advantage of very pure and excellent air, being on the North
side of the terrace round the Castle; and he used, occasionally, to
walk on the terrace; but, we understand, he now declines it, owing
to the bad state of his eyes, not being able to enjoy the view.--The
Lords and Grooms of the King's Bedchamber, his Equerries, and other
attendants, are occasionally in attendance at Windsor Castle, the
same as if the King enjoyed good health. Two King's messengers go
from the Secretary of State's Office daily to Windsor, and return
to London, as they have been accustomed to do for a number of years
past. The messenger who arrives at noon brings a daily account of the
King's health to the Prince Regent, and the Members of the Queen's
Council.--His Majesty has never been left since his afflicting
malady, without one of the Royal Family being in the Castle, and a
member of the Queen's Council, appointed under the Regency Act."

The monthly bulletins for the remainder of the year all tell the same
story, that the King enjoyed good health, and was tranquil, but that
his malady remained unaltered.

CHAPTER VII.

1817.

The Chronicle of this year opens with the record of a luckily rare
visitation, namely, that a slight shock of earthquake was felt on
January 8th at Mansfield, in Nottinghamshire. In 1816 a shock had
been felt in several places in Scotland.

The Grand Duke Nicholas of Russia, afterwards Czar, was over here,
and spent some months in this country, and those of us who remember
the last war we had with Russia, will scarcely recognize the stern
Nicholas of the Crimea, under the guise of the light-hearted Grand
Duke, as exemplified in the following anecdote, which occurred early
in January:--

"A LITTLE FROLIC OF THE GRAND DUKE NICHOLAS.--On his Imperial
Highness leaving Chester for Montgomeryshire, he perceived one of the
outriders to be mounted on a good horse; being a fine morning, his
Highness felt disposed to take a ride, and requested to change place
with the Courier; it was a fourteen-mile stage, and, on descending
a very long and steep hill, his Highness did not like to crawl down
so slow as the others, and told his suite that he would ride on, and
order some refreshment and horses for them. On his Highness arriving
at the Inn, he desired the landlady to prepare some beefsteaks and
mutton chops for the Grand Duke and his suite.

"The landlady observed that they should immediately be got ready,
and, taking his Highness for the Courier, asked him to accept of
something, which he politely declined, observing that he would wait
until the company arrived. She then showed him the room she had
prepared for the Grand Duke, and asked him if he thought it would
do? His Highness told her that it would do extremely well. The
carriages shortly after arrived, and the hostess begged him to have
the goodness to point out to her the Grand Duke; his Highness smiled,
and said she would be sure to see him." When Generals Kutusoff and
Mansel alighted and saluted him, one can picture the landlady's
astonishment. Nicholas was so pleased with the horse that he bought
it. He left England at the end of March.

Far less popular was another Royal Highness, far nearer home. The
Prince Regent went on the 28th of January to open the Session
of Parliament, and was met with a storm of yells and opprobious
epithets, but he got safely to the House of Lords, and delivered his
speech; on his return, the clamour and insults had vastly increased.
It is true that some few cried "God save the King," but the majority
hissed and hooted at, and called his Royal Highness naughty names;
the climax was reached when the Regent's carriage was about the
middle of the Mall. Some evilly disposed person threw a stone, or
stones, at the Royal equipage, and made a hole in one of the windows.
This hole remains a mystery, for the window on the opposite side
was not broken, and no stone, nor other missile, was found in the
carriage.

Lord James Murray, who was Lord of the Bedchamber to the Regent, was
in the carriage with him, and was examined shortly afterwards at the
bar of the House of Commons, and he was of opinion that the hole in
the window was made by two small bullets, about a quarter of an inch
apart--but this must have been pure conjecture on his lordship's
part. He went on to say that "about a minute after the glass was
broken, as I have described, a large stone was thrown against the
glass of the carriage, which broke it, and three or four other small
stones were thrown, which struck the glass, and the other part of the
carriage." And this is all that was found out about it.

The Lords and Commons united in an Address conveying their Abhorrence
of this attack upon his Royal Highness--the Guards at the Palaces,
the Parks, the Bank, and elsewhere were doubled; the Lord Mayor
was informed of the awful occurrence, and requested, if he thought
necessary, to call in the aid of the Military power, and despatches
were sent by the Mail Coaches to every part of the kingdom, to put
the Magistrates in every place on their guard. But there was no
occasion for all this fuss: the event did not produce a ferment in
the public mind, and we learn in next morning's paper, "that by five
o'clock in the afternoon the streets were perfectly clear of all mob,
and no disposition to riot appeared in any part of the town."

[Illustration: "The New Coinage; or, John Bull's Visit to Mat of The
Mint!!" (_February 13, 1817._)

_New Silver to enable the people to give intrinsic value for Bank
rags & worthless Tokens_]

A man named James Scott was the only one arrested, although £1,000
reward was offered for the Criminals, and as somebody was wanted to
be hanged, they accused him of high treason in throwing stones at the
Vicegerent of the Lord's Anointed. But, although they tried very hard
for a conviction, it only wanted three examinations by a Magistrate
to acquit the man of the charge of treason, but he was committed for
a misdemeanour in aiding and abetting of the Riot. He was admitted to
bail in two Sureties of £100 each, and himself in £200. Reading
the evidence, I can see nothing to incriminate him, and as I can
find nothing about his conviction, or acquittal, from any source, I
presume he was never called upon to appear. Peter Pindar satirised
this event in "R--LTY BESET."

On the 18th of January, a proclamation was issued "from our Court
at Brighton," announcing the issue of a new Silver Coinage, which
might be changed for old, at the Mint, between the 3rd and 17th of
February: and another proclamation of the 12th of February, "from
our Court at Carlton House," gave the date of the 13th of February
as that of general issue, after which they were to be taken as
lawful money. On this date was published a Satirical print, called
"The New Coinage, or John Bull's visit to MAT of the MINT!!"[26] in
which Wellesley Pole, "Master and Worker of his Majesty's Mint," is
shovelling money into a sack, saying "There, Johnny! see how I have
been working for you for months past; you can't say I get my money
for nothing." John Bull replies, "You be a very industrious man,
Master Mat, and the prettiest _Cole_[27] merchant I have dealt with
for many a day." The room, and the street, seen through an open door,
are crowded with men, women, and children, anxious to get the new
silver. That advantage was taken of promptly changing old worn silver
for bright new coin, is shown that by the 19th the large Hall of the
Bank, which was given up to its issue, was nearly empty, and the old
coinage had disappeared from circulation. They were counterfeited
immediately, which was a natural sequence, and there were squabbles
about their artistic merits, which was also natural. Regarding the
latter, as there are plenty of this issue now in circulation, my
readers can judge for themselves. There was the usual epigram upon it.

[Footnote 26: Mat o' the Mint was a character in Gay's
Beggar's Opera.]

[Footnote 27: _Cole_ or _Coal_ is thieves' slang for money,
and many people carry a piece of Coal in their pocket,
under the belief that so long as they have _Cole_ in their
pocket they will never want for money.]

"THE NEW COIN.

It is allow'd, throughout the town,
The head upon the new Half-Crown,
Is not the GEORGE we so much prize--
The Chin's not like--the Nose--the Eyes.
This may be true--yet, on the whole,
The fault lies chiefly _in the Pole_!"

Reform was being violently agitated all over the country, and,
without wishing to give this book any political character, yet as a
phase of social life it must be mentioned. There were riots late in
February in Somersetshire, among the Colliers, who struck against
a deduction of 10 per cent. in their wages. They did not do much
damage, but a dangerous spirit was abroad, and the cry of "Bread or
Blood; Hunt for ever!" was ominous of mischief. They were soon put
down by a troop of the 22nd Lancers, from Bristol, and the North
Somerset Yeomanry, without bloodshed.

On the 28th of February, the operation of the Act of _Habeas Corpus_
was suspended, and was not resumed until the 31st of January, 1818.

Of the Spa Fields rioters, two others besides Cashman, whose
execution has already been recorded, were hanged--and the others
in custody respited during pleasure: but no severity could quell
the unhappy feeling all over England. The people were restless and
suffering, and were determined to make themselves heard: as, for
instance, on the 10th of March, a meeting took place at Manchester
for the avowed purpose of petitioning the Prince Regent for a redress
of grievances, and a Reform in Parliament. It was recommended for the
Reformers to proceed in a large body to London, which was attempted
to be carried into effect by some hundreds, who had provided
themselves with blankets and bundles; but, by the activity of the
Magistrates, aided by the military, their purpose was defeated, and
several of the leaders were committed to prison.

On the 18th of March numerous arrests took place at Manchester, of
persons charged with seditious practices; and on the 25th of March
the Bill to prevent seditious meetings passed the House of Commons
by a large majority. High treason had become so familiar that
new regulations had to be adopted in the Tower, as to prisoners
contained there. "Each prisoner is kept in a separate apartment, and
night and day, two yeomen, or warders, continue in the room, the
door of which is locked, and on the outside a sentinel is placed
to prevent the approach of any one, except those in the Governor's
establishment. Their beds and board are provided by the Government.
No person is allowed to see the prisoners, unless a special order
is sent to the Lieutenant-Governor by the Clerk of the Council, and
then they are restricted from holding any communication except in the
presence and hearing of some persons appointed by the lieutenant, or
his deputy."

Let us pass to something pleasanter. The Custom House was opened for
business on the 12th of May without ceremony, and as one newspaper
says: "This structure is, in fact, perfect in everything, as its
inmates confess, and wants nothing but _business_." But the building
was not finished until the 2nd of August.

The only Social News between this date and July is the account of
mere riots at Nottingham and Leeds--together with State trials--which
we will skip.

On the 1st of July were issued the new gold Coin "the Sovereign,"
and from that date the old Guinea was doomed, and only now survives
in professional fees, and wherever any one can stick on an extra
shilling to a Sovereign. They were taken very kindly to, only some
exception was taken to the name, many thinking they ought to have
been called a "George." The half-sovereigns soon got a nickname,
that of "Regents." This is what a wicked wag thought of the "New
Sovereign":

"The Horse on the _Coin_ is more fit for a Waggon,
Than meet for _St. George_ to encounter the _Dragon_!
And, as for the _Effigy_, meant for the _Saint_,
He appears like a _Sans Culotte_, ready to faint;
With his head hanging down o'er a lean hungry paunch,
He has struck, with his spear, his poor horse, on the haunch;
While the _Dragon_ in pity, looks at the incision,
And cocks up his nose, at _St. George_ in derision!!!"

One of the most famous Criminal Cases of modern times occurred this
year--singular for the fact that it revived the old Ordeal, "Appeal
by battle," which had been in obeyance since 1771, and which no one
ever dreamed would be revived. One Abraham Thornton had been accused
of murdering Mary Ashford by drowning her on the 27th of May. He was
tried, and acquitted, but was subsequently arrested in October on an
appeal. This was heard in the King's Bench on the 17th of November,
and both Appellant and Appellee answered to their names. The first,
William Ashford, brother of the deceased, is described as being a
slight made lad, about seventeen years of age, and short in stature.
Thornton stood about five feet four inches high, very stout and
robust.

After the preliminary formalities were over, Mr. Leblanc, clerk to
the Crown, read over the record against him, and asked him whether
he was guilty or not." "His Counsel, Mr. Reader, then put a piece of
paper in his hand from which the prisoner read:

"'NOT GUILTY; AND I AM READY TO DEFEND THE SAME WITH MY BODY.'

"Mr. Reader had likewise handed a pair of large gauntlets, or gloves,
to the prisoner, one of which he put on, and the other, in pursuance
of the old form, he threw down for the appellant to take up. It was
not taken up, and

"Mr. Reader moved that it should be kept in the custody of the
officer of the Court.

Mr. Leblanc: Your plea is that you are not Guilty, and that you are
ready to defend the said plea with your body?

"The Prisoner: It is.

"Lord Ellenborough: Is the Appellant in Court?

"Mr. Clarke (his Counsel): He is, my Lord."

He appeared, but said nothing, and then Mr. Clarke addressed the
Court with a counter plea for the Appellant. In the course of his
speech, he said, "It would appear to me extraordinary indeed, if the
person who murdered the sister, should, as the law exists in these
enlightened times, be allowed to prove his innocence by murdering the
brother also, or at least, by an attempt to do so.

"Lord Ellenborough: It is the law of England, Mr. Clarke. We must not
call it murder."

Mr. Clarke then went on arguing that, surely the appeal must be
discretionary with the Court, and urged the inferiority of his
client's physique.

The Case was adjourned until the 22nd of November, when the Appellant
pleaded that Thornton ought not to be admitted to wage battle with
him, because both before and after the appeal there had been, and
still were, proofs that he had murdered the Appellant's sister. Case
adjourned.

On the 16th of April, 1818, Abraham Thornton was discharged, without
bail, the appellant declining the Challenge to combat, according to
ancient usage. But such a scandal could not long continue, and the
law was repealed in 1819 (59 George III. cap. 46).

What became of him, I know not, but I find mention of him in _The
Morning Chronicle_ of the 26th of October, 1818. _The Liverpool
Courier_ says: "We stated a few weeks ago, that the celebrated
Abraham Thornton had arrived in this town for the purpose of
emigrating to the United States. He has experienced more difficulty
than he anticipated in getting a passage thither. It appears that he
had engaged one in the _Independence_, but, when the other passengers
became acquainted with his name and character, they unanimously
refused to go in the same vessel with him; and a new Muster roll
was, in consequence, made out, in which his name was omitted."

The Chinese Embassy sent out under Lord Amherst had returned, having
failed in its object, his lordship refusing to kotoo to the Emperor:
his ship, the _Alceste_, being fired into by the Chinese.

The health of that tough old lady, Queen Charlotte, was beginning
to fail, and her physicians recommended her to go to Bath, for the
waters, and, in November, thither repaired, accompanied by the Duke
of Clarence.

The illustration gives an extremely graphic idea of the effects of
the Water upon the afflicted Queen. It is called "A PEEP into the
PUMP ROOM, or the Zomersetshire folk in A Maze."

The following anecdote of her sojourn is dated "Bath, November
28th.--The Queen wishing to ride through Prior Park, the property of
John Thomas, a very rich Quaker, a footman was sent forward to the
house to ask leave for the gates to be opened. Mr. Thomas received
the Queen very respectfully at the park gate, and addressed her as
follows: "Charlotte, I hope thee is very well: I am glad to see thee
in my park; thou art very welcome at any time, and I shall feel proud
in opening my gates for thy pleasure. I hope thou receives benefit
from the Bath waters. I wish thee well."

[Illustration: "A Peep into the Pump Room; or, The Zomersetshire Folk
in a Maze," October, 1817. (_Published, February, 1818._)]

Early in the morning of the 6th of November, died the Princess
Charlotte. On the day before she had been delivered of a stillborn
child, and was reported to be going on well, but within twelve hours
she was a corpse. There really was sorrow when she died. Her husband
was inconsolable, and her father, bereft of his only, though somewhat
wayward child, stayed at home and was ill. She was buried, with all
pomp, at Windsor, on the 19th of November. There was no Lord Mayor's
Show this year.

Before the end of the year there were more riots at Brighton and
Worcester, and a Commission sat at Derby, upon thirty-five persons
charged with high treason. Three of them, Brandreth, Ludlam, and
Turner were found guilty, and afterwards hanged and beheaded. The
others, on withdrawing their plea of not guilty, were dealt with
mercifully.

The Chronicle of this year must not be closed without mention of
Robert Owen, a Cotton Spinner at Lanark, who was a Social Reformer
of somewhat peculiar views. He had a Plan for the better support and
government of the poor, the outlines of which are as follows:--He
proposed to make the poor National, and to raise funds by mortgaging
the poor's rate to the amount of five or six years of its annual
value. The money so raised, in sums as required, he would have
applied in purchase of land, in portions of different magnitudes,
and erect establishments thereon for the accommodation of from
five hundred to fifteen hundred people. Of these buildings he
furnished a plan, on a scale for twelve hundred persons--men, women,
and children. The buildings were to be surrounded by a regulated
quantity of land for _spade_ cultivation--say an acre for each
person, including the site of erection--and they were designed for
a pauper community, which was to supply everything for itself; and
to be superintended on the principle of combining moral culture, and
reformation, with industry and frugality.

[Illustration: Robert Owen, August 21, 1817.]

The occupants were both to farm and manufacture, and, consequently,
to employ the faculties of each description of poor. Besides
comfortable lodging rooms, the buildings were intended to contain
a public kitchen, mess rooms, and all requisite accommodation
attached to comfortable cookery and eating; a chapel, infant
schools, schools for adults, grounds for exercise and recreation,
planted and beautified with trees. The lodgings for the married
poor, each to be sufficient to accommodate two children with their
father and mother: dormitories for children above three years of
age; manufactories and gardens; a complete farming establishment;
malting, and brewing-houses, corn-mill, dairy, and, in short, all the
constituents for self-support. To the men were assigned the labours
of agriculture, and the heaviest part of the manufactures. To the
women the care of their children and houses, the cultivation of
vegetables, the making of clothes, and an attendance, in rotation,
on the kitchen, mess-room, and dormitories. The children were to be
trained in the lighter occupations until fit for manly or womanly
employment, &c. The expense of such an establishment for twelve
hundred people, Owen estimated at £96,000.

In the latter part of this year, a great deal was heard of "The
Fortunate Youth." The story told about whom was, that a young
gentleman met with a very rich old one, who took a violent fancy
to the youth, used often to have him at his house, without the
knowledge of his parents, and finally, dying, left "The Fortunate
Youth" an immense fortune. This lad succeeded in humbugging people
to an unlimited extent, and in obtaining money from them, until, in
a Newspaper of the 6th of December, appeared: "SOI-DISANT FORTUNATE
YOUTH.--We lament to wound the feelings of the friends of this young
man, but we are bound by a painful duty to caution the public against
an impostor, whose detected falsehoods, and disingenuous acts,
authorize the assertion, that there is not one word of truth in his
whole story."

This was pretty plain speaking, and brought forth a disclaimer from
"The Solicitor and Confidential Friend of 'The Fortunate Youth'
and his family," in which he says, "I will venture to assert that
this Youth has never defrauded, nor attempted to defraud, any one;
and that if any person has any just pecuniary claim upon him, the
liquidation of it will be immediately provided for, on such claim
being made known to me." Once again he wrote defending his client;
but alack, and well-a-day, a little time afterwards, in a letter to
the same Newspaper, he writes (giving his own name, Weatherby): "I
feel it now a duty I owe to the public to declare, that circumstances
have since occurred, which induce me to think that I have been
grossly deceived in my opinion of him, and that his pretensions to a
large property are without foundation."

The editor then gives the impostor's real story.

"This young man's name is ABRAHAM W. CAWSTON. His father is a farmer
at Chippenham, near Newmarket. The early promise of shining talents
induced his father to send him to school, under the tuition of the
eminent Dr. Butler, of Shrewsbury, and there his attainments and
abilities gained him universal admiration. He was not seventeen years
of age when he paid his addresses to a young lady of fortune in
that place, and from that time the strange artifice or imagination
of this enormous fortune that had dropped to him, as it were, from
the clouds, had birth. He first opened his wonderful secret to his
father; and the story which he told was, that an aged gentleman
had, at one of his journeys from home to school, fallen in with him
in a stage coach going to Birmingham, and that he afterwards made
him _a deed of gift_ of his whole fortune! It did not, in the first
disclosure, swell to the magnitude which it afterwards attained;
but the first feeling that he manifested was to settle a part of his
wealth on his parents and brother. For this purpose he was introduced
to Mr. Weatherby, to whom he gave instructions to make a will; and,
as his fortune was stated to be all personal, Mr. Weatherby saw no
objection to the deed. His distribution of wealth, though uncommon,
did not strike Mr. Weatherby as improbable, so clear and consistent
were the boy's statements in their different interviews, and so
filial, and brotherly, were the bequests.

"From this time, nothing could equal the romance of his story, the
unblushing effrontery with which he maintained it, and the ingenious
stratagems he devised to keep up the delusion. It would fill a
volume to recount the history of the youth for the last two months;
and we are possessed of so many curious anecdotes, that we shall
entertain our readers with the relation of a few of them, since
the affair has afforded a striking example of the courtesy which
is shown to appearance, and the eagerness with which a meteor is
contemplated in the hemisphere of rank and fashion. That tradesmen
of all descriptions should crowd round his doors for the advantage
of his orders, was natural; but that Bankers should contend for his
account--Duchesses for the honour of his acquaintance--and Ministers
for his Parliamentary support--prove how much all conditions of
Society are on the alert for gold and power.

"He prevailed on his father to enter his elder brother, who is
twenty-four years of age, and had been brought up in the line of
farming, as a fellow commoner of Emanuel College, Cambridge.

"He instructed one solicitor to enter into a negociation for the
purchase of several estates, and surveys had actually been made.

"He applied to Government for a grant to take the name and bear the
arms of Devereux, and the Herald's College had begun to take steps
to exemplify the arms, and waited only for information as to which
branch of the house of Devereux his benefactor belonged.

"He instructed another Solicitor to insert an advertisement in the
public papers, calling on the Creditors, if any, of Don Gaspar de
Quintilla, deceased, to bring vouchers of their demands, in order
that they might be immediately liquidated. (Meaning to couple him
with Don Joachim de Quintilla, a rich Portuguese diamond Merchant.)

"He stated that it was his determination to purchase ten Boroughs,
that he might have twenty Members of Parliament in the House of
Commons, to procure him an Earldom.

"He said that his half-year's dividend, due on the 5th of January
next, was £92,000, and that he held annuities from several of the
crowned heads of Europe to the amount of millions.

"He was in the habit of suffering drafts on bankers for thousands,
nay, at times for tens, and hundreds of thousands, to drop from
his pocket-book, as if by accident, that they might be seen; and
he talked of loans to persons of the highest distinction, on whose
estate he had mortgages.

"When strongly pressed for an explanation as to the _Deed of Gift_ by
which the Legacy Tax had been evaded, he said that it was a secret
which he was bound to conceal for a time, but it was in an iron
chest, buried in the garden of his benefactor.

"So entire was the conviction of his friends, as to the certainty,
and extent, of his wealth, that a consultation was held with two
eminent Lawyers, to devise the means of making him a Ward of
Chancery; and, as his wealth was all his own, and, consequently,
there was no ground for the interference of the Lord Chancellor, it
was settled that he should present £30,000 to his father, and file a
friendly bill, upon which application might be made to constitute him
a ward."

This is only a slight portion of the revelations made respecting him;
but, although highly amusing, the relation of them would occupy too
much space. I have not taken the trouble to try and find out what
became of him.

It is curious that this should have been the year of two notorious
and historical impostors. One we have just heard of: the other
was a hussey named Wilcox or Baker--who tried to ape the _rôle_ of
George Psalmanazar. Her story is on this wise. On the evening of
3rd April, 1817, the guardian of the poor brought a female, aged
about twenty-five, clothed in ordinary costume, although it was
somewhat fantastically put on, to Mrs. Worrall, of Knole Park, for
advice. She had been found in the neighbouring village of Almondsbury
(Gloucestershire), and had gone into a cottage, making signs that she
wished to rest and sleep there: but as there was something uncanny
about her, and she spoke no language they understood, she was taken
to the Great House. Mrs. Worrall very kindly sent a maid with her
to the village inn, where she slept that night. Next day she was
interviewed, but all that could be got out of her was some gibberish
no one could understand, and she kept pointing to herself, saying
"Caraboo," by which it was inferred that such was her name. She
was taken to Bristol and examined: many persons versed in Eastern
languages trying to converse with her, but failing--her language
being utterly unknown to them.

Mrs. Worrall then took her to her house at Knole, and afterwards, a
Portuguese Malay appeared on the scene, undoubtedly a confederate,
who could talk to her, and then it came out that she was a Malayan
princess, of Chinese origin, and that she came from _Javasu_
(wherever that may be). One day she was walking in her garden
attended by her women, when the crew of a pirate prahu landed,
scaled the walls, gagged her, bound her and carried her off! (_Red
fire. Curtain falls_).--Act II. She is now discovered in a state of
slavery--having been sold by the pirates to the captain of a brig,
from which ship she was transferred to another, where she found
company in the society of a few more female captives, who, after
five weeks' cruise, were landed at another port. Caraboo, however,
continues sailing the wild ocean for nearly three months, till,
nearing land, and preferring death to slavery, she jumps overboard!
(_Soft music. Curtain falls_).--Act III. A merciful Providence
watches over her, and she swims ashore, borne to a land to which
she is an utter stranger, wanders about for six weeks, and at last
finds herself in this village of Almondsbury, clad like a respectable
working woman, in stuff dress, bonnet, woollen socks, leather boots,
a piece of soap, and other necessaries in a bundle, and a few
halfpence and a bad sixpence in her pocket. Kind people befriended
her, she composed a new language, and wrote some of it. Suspicion
is aroused, other kind people take an interest in her, who trace
different antecedents for her; she is confronted with the friends of
her youth, and (counterpart of Rider Haggard's "She") the Princess
Caraboo of Javasu crumbles into Mary Baker, or Wilcox, of Witheridge,
in the county of Devon!!! (_Tableau. Curtain falls, hisses and
catcalls._)

She afterwards went, still in 1817, to America, but a New York paper
noticing her arrival at Philadelphia, remarked, "That her personal
charms will have their due weight here, we should be sorry in this
age of gallantry, to doubt; but as to any prospect of success which
the fair adventuress may promise herself in the way of _hoaxing_, she
will shortly discover, from the number of our _banking institutions_,
our _stones in cotton_, and _wooden nutmegs_, that we are already
adepts in her profession."

In the year 1824 she returned from America, and took apartments in
New Bond Street, where she publicly showed herself at a shilling a
head. She finally settled down at Bristol, where she sold leeches,
and died at the close of 1864.

CHAPTER VIII.

1818.

This year did not open as one of national prosperity. There was one
subject that especially appealed to the country's benevolence. Of
course, when the long, long war was over, the Navy was reduced to a
peace footing, and thousands of men-of-war's men were paid off; and
those who were obtained with such difficulty, who, in spite of being
pressed, and forcibly taken from all that was dear to them, bullied
by their officers, flogged nearly to death for comparative trifles,
yet fought like lions, and laid the foundation of England's present
prosperity, were cast adrift to shift for themselves as best they
might. They were wanted no longer. Had trade been good, nothing more
would have been heard of it, they would have been absorbed into the
merchant navy, and the Government would have had all the credit of
retrenchment, and dutifully administering the funds of the Nation.

As it was, people could see for themselves, the streets teeming with
old sailors, unable to obtain employment, and walking about almost in
a state of nudity, and with empty stomachs. I am not exaggerating.
I go upon contemporary authority. But, I need scarcely say, that
Englishmen then, as they ever do now, as soon as the distress was
manifest to them, met together and tried to alleviate the sufferings
of their fellow countrymen. On the 5th of January, a meeting of
gentlemen was convened at the London Tavern, and Wm. Wilberforce,
Esq., M.P., was elected chairman, and by the 14th of January nearly
£7,000 had been collected, besides a quantity of clothing, and gifts
in kind. In a Newspaper of January 10th, we find the following: "We
can confidently inform our readers that the 'Society for the Aid
of Destitute Seamen,' are proceeding with much energy: Officers in
the Royal Navy are, with much patience, and unwearied assiduity,
examining the various objects as they present themselves. The greater
number are men-of-war's men. Near two hundred and fifty seamen
have been housed in a temporary lodging. Yesterday morning they
breakfasted on wholesome porridge. It was a pleasant sight, and,
already, these sons of distress have an improved appearance, which
is highly gratifying. Many have been enabled to remove part of the
filth which had accumulated about them, and their sense of gratitude
is continually expressed by the pleasure they evince in their greater
comforts. The _Abundance_ store-ship is now off the Tower, and the
utmost activity is engaged in victualling, and other preparations;
so that, when the other ships shall be up, which Government have
promptly granted (and they are daily expected), the Seamen may, it
is hoped, be all taken from the Streets, and on board, by the end
of next week. Thus, the humane purposes of the benefactors to these
deserving men are, with astonishing celerity, carrying into effect,
by those who have from morning till night, devoted their valuable
time, and their best energies to relieve distress, which had nearly
reached their highest pitch of endurance. The applications were so
numerous, yesterday, that the Committee, with much regret, have been
obliged to suspend granting temporary relief for a day or two, to
give time for investigation of the cases already before them." Thanks
to private Charity, this scandal was ended, and we hear no more of
distressed seamen.

This year's Chronicle is not so full of public interest as its
forerunners, and I am fain to be content with small things, such
as the finding of the Scottish Regalia--which had been lost since
the time of Queen Anne. It seems that some years before 1818 a
Commission had been issued to open the "Crown Room" at Holyrood, and
search for certain records. They found dust about six inches deep
lying evenly spread over everything, a sign that nothing had been
disturbed; and they searched in all the places, for which they had a
Commission to search, and did not find what they wanted. There was
one chest left unopened, and in January this year, a Commission was
appointed to open it, examine its contents, and report upon them.
Another account points to a different room, in which was only one
chest--but this is immaterial. No keys being forthcoming, the Chest
was forced on Wednesday, February 4th (some say 5th), and it was
found to contain the Crown, Sceptre, and Sword of State of Scotland,
completely answering to their description in the Instrument of
Deposition, March 26, 1707. With them was also found a silver rod of
office, of which the peculiar use was not then known. I believe they
are all now religiously preserved, and guarded, in Holyrood Palace.

In February the purchase of Strathfieldsaye was completed, being a
National gift to the Duke of Wellington.

In turning to one of my sources of information for the above, I find
the next paragraph to be: "A Society is about to be formed at _Ross_,
under the designation of the _Kyrlean, and Philanthropic_, the object
of which is to celebrate the birthday of Mr. John Kyrle (already
immortalized by Pope, as the 'Man of Ross'), and to raise a fund for
the improvement of the walks, and those public buildings which he
erected, and, in imitation of that amiable philanthropist, to relieve
honest merit in distress. The Members are to be elected by ballot,
but not confined to distance."

I do not know whether this Society was started, or whether it had a
long life, but I do know that there is now a very praiseworthy "Kyrle
Society," whose power of doing good might be largely increased, by
their possessing a larger income. Their object is to bring beauty
home to the people. The means employed are (1) The decoration of
working men's clubs, hospitals, &c., by mural paintings, pictures,
&c.; (2) By laying out, as gardens, or recreation grounds, any
available strips of waste land; (3) By a voluntary choir of singers,
who give oratorios and concerts to the poor, singing in hospitals,
workhouses, and carrying out a scheme for providing Choral Classes
for the people.[28]

[Footnote 28: Hon. Sec., Miss M. Lyall, 14, Nottingham
Place, W.]

This year, there was quite an epidemic of Royal Marriages. The
Princess Elizabeth was married to the Prince of Hesse Homburg, the
Duke of Clarence to the Princess of Saxe Meiningen, the Duke of
Cambridge to the Princess of Hesse, and the Duke of Kent to the
Princess Victoria of Saxe Cobourg, the mother of our present Queen,
and as "Sons and Daughters of England," they were all dutifully
provided for.

From Fetters Matrimonial to those of a baser, yet not more material
kind, is an easy transition, and it is pleasing, to record, as an
advance in humanity, and civilization, that in April of this year,
the disuse of fetters on the prisoners was commenced at Clerkenwell
prison, and immediately followed by Newgate.

In May, a woman was arrested for trying to annoy the Queen, and she
seems to have had a peculiar penchant for keys. "On the sentinels
being placed on duty on Tuesday night, in the Garden at the back of
the Queen's Palace, the key of the garden, belonging to the watch
house, could not be found, and it was ascertained she had stolen
it. She had been at Carlton House, York House, most of the Courts
of Justice, and, in all the places where she gained admittance, she
stole keys, or trifling articles. She had stolen, in the whole, 146
keys."

Schoolboys, now that grown-up men had ceased from rioting, took to
it. First of all the Winchester boys caught the disease, and on May
7th, on returning from a ramble on the hills, "they suddenly attacked
the porters, forced from them the keys of the College, and locked
out all the Masters. Having thus obtained full possession of the
building, they proceeded to take up, with pickaxes, &c., the large
stones with which the Court was paved, and soon conveyed upwards of a
cart-load of them to the top of the building, threatening any one who
approached the gates. In this barricaded state, they kept possession
all the night, deaf to the remonstrances of their friends, and
bidding defiance to their Masters. On the following morning, after
many admonitions were in vain given them to return to their duty, it
was found necessary to call out a party of Military, some Constables,
&c., who procured crowbars and other instruments to force the gates.
Upon observing these preparations, the young gentlemen opened the
gates, came out in a body, and many of them went to their respective
homes. Twelve ringleaders were expelled; and about forty of the
Gentlemen Commoners have been allowed to resign. There were only six
out of 230 who did not join in the revolt."

Again we read, "Nov. 14.--During the last week, the boys at Eton
College were in a state of rebellion, and offered the grossest
indignities to Dr. Keate, the head of the College. By his firm and
judicious conduct, however, aided by the other masters, peace was
restored on Saturday. Seven of the boys have been expelled."

The poor Prince Regent could not get popular. On the 7th of July
his carriage broke down in South Audley Street, on his way to, or
from, the Marquis of Hertford's. A mob instantly collected, as the
carriage was known to be the Prince's. The blinds were all drawn up
and he could not be seen, but they called him naughty names, and said
naughty things about him, begging him, not very politely, to show
himself. He endured this for some time, but, afterwards, emerged,
and, making his way through a Mews, he took shelter in General
Cradock's house, followed, and grossly insulted by the populace.

In October, this year, was issued the Noble Crown piece by Pistrucci,
which completed the series of the Silver Coinage. It is remarkable,
not only for its beauty, but for the fact that it was the only
Crown-piece coined during the long reign of George III. It had on
the reverse St. George and the Dragon, surrounded by the Garter, and
excited much controversy, because the Moneyer had introduced his name
on the Coin. It was classed with Cardinal Wolsey's famous "Ego et Rex
meus."

On 10th of November, Capt. Ross and Lieut. Parry returned from their
voyage of discovery in the Northern Seas, after a fruitless attempt
to pass through Behring's Straits. They brought home some live
Esquimaux dogs, sledges, &c., with specimens of mineralogy, botany,
&c., which were deposited in the British Museum for public inspection.

On 17th of November, at Kew Palace, died her Majesty Queen Charlotte;
she had been ailing ever since the previous year, when we have seen
her at Bath, latterly she got much worse, but she bore up well
against her fatal illness. She was buried, with great pomp, at
Windsor, 2nd of December.

The Queen's Income, latterly, was very good; by 52 Geo. III., it
was settled (independent of the King's establishment at Windsor) at
£58,000 a year, with an allowance of £10,000 a year for travelling
and other contingent expenses. She had other pickings besides, so
that we can scarcely understand her only having left behind her
personal property valued at £140,000, of which the greater part
consisted of jewels given her by Geo. III. and the Nawab of Arcot.
Those given by the King she left to the House of Hanover as an heir
loom.

The Nawab's jewels were to be sold, and the proceeds divided between
her four daughters, the Queen of Wurtemburg being excepted, as being
sufficiently well provided for. Her other jewels she desired should
be valued, and equally distributed between the said four daughters.

Her landed property she gave away, and directed that her books,
plate, house linen, china, pictures, drawings, prints, all articles
of ornamental furniture, and all other valuables and personals,
should be divided in equal shares among her four youngest daughters.
These are the principal heads of her will.

Of her death, the King, of course, knew nothing, and it was lucky for
him that it was so, for he dearly loved his wife, and the homeliness
of their natures eminently fitted them for each other.

The last bulletin for this year will as well describe his Majesty's
state for the whole twelve months, as if I transcribed every one.
"_Windsor Castle_, December 5. His Majesty's tranquility has been
undisturbed throughout the last month, and his Majesty's health has
been, good; but his disorder continues in the same state."

CHAPTER IX.

1819.

"They of the household divided the spoil "very shortly after the old
Queen's death. On the 4th of January, her horses and carriages were
sold at Tattersall's. Several of the old horses were shot to prevent
them going into abject slavery, and the fifty-five that remained,
sold for £4,544, and eighteen carriages fetched £1,077. Messrs.
Rundle and Bridge, the Royal Goldsmiths, apportioned the jewels into
four equal lots.

"January 12.--Part of the Queen's property, consisting of pieces of
silk and satin, gold and silver, figured and plain, not made up,
were measured on Friday, at the Queen's House, St. James's Park,
amounting to 2,140 yards. They were presents to her Majesty, or
purchases made by her for the encouragement of the manufactures. They
are of various prices, from one guinea to five guineas per yard, and
many of them of the most beautiful workmanship--one of them, a piece
of green silk shot with gold, is of the most exquisite beauty. This
valuable collection the Princesses have, with their characteristic
kindness and generosity, presented to Madame Beckendorff, as a mark
of their esteem for the favourite of their deceased Royal Parent.
In another apartment was a large store of the most superb shawls,
Oriental presents to her Majesty, but many of them nearly consumed by
moths."

A great many things were sold privately, but her Oriental
curiosities, &c., were sold at Christie's early in May. Among the
other things that were to be sold on the 25th of May were:--

1. 44 Shillings and 66 Sixpences, chiefly of the present reign, 5
Crown-pieces, a well-preserved Half-Crown of 1817, ditto 6 Sixpences
1816, and 11 Bank Tokens.

2. 170 Silver Groats.

3. 170 Threepences.

4. 200 Twopences.

5. 18 English and foreign Dollars, Crowns, and Bank Tokens, and 8
English Half-Crowns, 28 Smooth Shillings, 22 English and foreign
Sixpences.

6. 209 Provincial Tokens.

[Illustration: "Sales by Auction! or, Provident Children Disposing
of their Deceased Mother's Effects for the Benefit of their
Creditors!"]

These items bear witness to the Queen's saving qualities, and
also to the meanness which prompted the sale of such comparative
trifles--only those were sold which were not Current Coin--because
it was an offence against the law to sell money that was in use. Her
veriest trifles were sold. "Among the articles of _vertu_ in the last
sale of her late Majesty's Curiosities, were a number of _paper_
portraits _cut in profile_ of the members of the illustrious Houses
of Brunswick and of Mecklenburgh Strelitz, both male and female: the
ladies in the costume of 1770, with the head-dresses three stories
high, and with elegant flowing lappets. Of the same subjects, the
most remarkable was the Lord's Prayer, cut in paper with a pair of
scissors, by an artist born without hands."[29]

[Footnote 29: Probably Matthew Buchinger, who died 1722.]

A Satirist brought out an Engraving, "SALES by AUCTION! or Provident
Children disposing of their deceased Mother's effects for the benefit
of their Creditors!" The Regent, gouty as usual, is the Auctioneer,
and his remarks upon the lot he has for sale, an Indian Shawl, are:
"Here are some genuine Articles, a present from an Indian Prince
to the deceased owner, and saved entirely for the _Moths_, as they
were _never worn_, given away all her MONEY IN CHARITY. So, pray,
good people, Bid liberally, or the Children will be destitute." The
Princesses are pleading in the same strain, and the Duke of York is
sale Clerk. A short time previously he had a fall, caused by one of
his spurs catching in a carpet, at Windsor, and he broke his arm; he
sits comfortably on £10,000 which was the sum paid him annually, for
paying a monthly visit to his father, to whom he acted as Custodian,
after his mother's death. In January a Bill was brought in, with
this provision, but it met with strenuous opposition, as far as the
monetary portion went, as it was felt that no son, with any remnant
of filial affection left, would, or ought to, take such a sum for
occasionally visiting an aged and sorely afflicted parent; but it
finally passed into law. Of course, the Duke of York must have
expected, and he certainly got, censure for his greed, and we find
him pictorially satirised as using one of the then newly invented,
and fashionable "Dandy," or "Hobby" horses--by means of which he
could visit his poor old father at Windsor. This engraving is called
"MAKING MOST of £10,000 PER AN., by SAVING TRAVELLING EXPENSES (that
is) going on _Monthly_ visits to WINDSOR! as appointed by.... having
only the small sum of Ten Thousand Pounds per year, granted for that
arduous task, has wisely procured a pedestrian Hobby Horse." The Duke
comforts himself by saying, "Every Man has his Hobby Horse, mine is
worth Ten Thousand!!!"

[Illustration: "Making Most of £10,000 Per An."]

[Illustration: "The Hobby Horse Dealer."]

This parent of the bi-and tri-cycles was only introduced into England
early this year. It is said to have been the invention of the Baron
Charles de Drais, Master of Woods and Forests to H. R. H. the
Grand Duke of Baden. In English it was called the "Dandy Horse,"
because the word Dandy as applied to a fashionably dressed man, had
only just been coined; and Hobby Horse, although it had nothing in
common with the barded horse with which jesters used to caracole
in mimic jousts with one another. The Germans called it either the
German horse, or _Drais Laufmashin_; The French, _Drais ena_. They
were obtainable at Johnson's Repository in Long Acre, and cost
about eight pounds each, weight about fifty pounds each, and it was
reckoned that, by their means, a man could travel at a speed of eight
to ten miles an hour.[30] The pedestrian sat astride, leaning against
a pad in front, and holding the steering cross-bar with his hands,
then with his feet alternately, he spurned the ground. For a short
time they were very popular, and there are many specimens of them now
in existence. The Police were very opposed to them, and gave as a
reason that the crowded state of the Metropolis did not admit of this
novel method of travelling, and they put a stop to their use.

[Footnote 30: A trip to Brighton, say a little over fifty
miles, is recorded to have been done in nine hours.]

We get an excellent view of one in "The hobby Horse Dealer." Here
we see the poor starved horses looking hungrily out of the Stable
windows, and the groom in rags, his occupation gone. Of the Dandies,
one critically examines it, and says, "It seems to me, Jack, not
to have quite barrel enough." His quizzical friend, thinks it has a
"Fine fore-hand, by Jove." The dealer, of course, vaunts his goods.
"I'll warrant him sound, and free from vice." But the would-be
purchaser decries it, saying, "I can see he has been down, once or
twice, though, my lad."

I don't think "the Lady's Accelerator" ever came into vogue, even
among the "Dandizettes."

It was a lucky thing that there was a regular clear out of the old
Queen's things; for many of the poor old King's jewels had been
missing for a long time, and their disappearance had caused much
uneasiness. Messrs. Rundle and Bridge had been for several days
examining and estimating the value of the Queen's jewels, preparatory
to their being divided between the four princesses. When this was
satisfactorily accomplished, the Prince Regent came to see the
division, and the Princess Augusta also was present. On the jewels
being apportioned into four several heaps of equal value, a question
arose about the manner in which they were to be packed, until it
should be necessary to reproduce them.

[Illustration: "The Lady's Accelerator."]

One of the female attendants suggested that, in a lumber room, not
very far distant from her late Majesty's apartments, a number of
empty boxes were stowed, which had been used on former occasions, as
cases, in which the Royal Jewels had been carried to and from the
Bank of England (where they are usually deposited) to Buckingham
House; and "perhaps," said she, "these may serve the purpose for
which they are wanted, without troubling Messrs. Rundle and Bridge to
send for fresh packages from their house in town." The suggestion was
thought good; and the boxes were accordingly ordered to be produced
before the Royal Company. In examining one of them, which at first
sight appeared to be filled with nothing more than the lawn, or
silver paper, in which jewellery is usually enveloped, the King's
sword handle, star, loop, garter, and other jewels were unexpectedly
discovered.

It is well, sometimes, to read what other nations think of us, and
our customs, even if it be Max O'Rell and water, and we find in a
Newspaper of Feb. 13th, the following. It will create a smile to
read the account of English Manners given by a Frenchman, who, on
the authority of a short residence, takes upon himself to describe,
and expose our peculiarities. A little volume, entitled "A Year in
London," gives the following account of a public Tavern Dinner:--

"Few days pass in London without public Dinners. Our traveller
acquainted a Portuguese Jew, long resident in London, with the desire
he had to make one at this kind of entertainment. 'Nothing is so
easy. How do you go to the play?' 'I pay for a ticket at the door.'
'How do you see Westminster Abbey?' 'I pay a shilling at every door
they open for me.' 'How do you see St. Paul's, the Tower, the Crown
Jewels?' 'The same way, I pay.' 'You see, then, in London, you have
only to pay; you must, however, take care to have your name put
down two days before, for decency's sake, that you may not have the
appearance of going to a Table d'Hôte; but I will put you down for
one that is to take place to-morrow.'

"Each having paid 15s. entrance," says our traveller, "we were
introduced into a large dining-room, surrounded by tables, where,
already, were seated about two hundred guests, though the tables
were only covered with a cloth; there were, at the top of the room,
about six vacant places, but we were told they were for the singers;
twelve or fifteen persons, who, like ourselves, had arrived a little
too late, walked about in the middle of the room. At length we were
invited into another room, much less than the first, and where tables
were set in the same manner to accommodate about forty persons. A
waiter brought soup, and a heap of plates; he who was nearest took
possession, and distributed it to those nearest him, before a second
tureen was placed at the other end of the table, and that, also,
disappeared, before the arrival of a third. This soup is called mock
turtle, that is, pieces of Calves' head, and Oxtails floating in the
water in which they are dressed, and has no flavour but pepper, which
had not been spared.

"Soon afterwards, the table was covered with a profusion of roast
and boiled meat, that everybody began to hack at the same time--and
vegetables, boiled in _water_, the only sauce given to them in this
country. I had hardly finished my plate of mock turtle, when it was
loaded with a wing of boiled fowl, an enormous piece of roast beef,
a slice of hot ham, a potato, two carrots, and leaves of boiled, not
chopped spinach, completed the pyramid. No one thought of drinking,
for the English, in general, are not thirsty till no longer hungry;
in about a quarter of an hour, they cleared away, and put down apple
tarts, in comparison with which, our village pastry are models of
excellence, some salads eaten without seasoning, and cheese, to which
some added mustard and salt: they then placed before each guest a
bottle of red wine, or sherry, as he preferred; hardly was this
done, when five or six persons rose from the table, carrying in one
hand their glass, in the other, their bottle: every one imitated
them; I followed and did as the others, and we found ourselves in
the great room, standing between the tables, shoved by a crowd of
waiters, who were clearing away. Oranges and nuts were brought,
which my companions below often pillaged before they arrived at
their destination. At last, after having been squeezed, pushed, and
elbowed, for half an hour, we succeeded in obtaining some seats in
the middle of the room, each having his bottle between his knees, and
glass in his hand. After every health, one of the singers amused the
Company with a song; a pause of some minutes ensued, and the same
thing was repeated."

Doubtless, but for the finding of oxtails in Mock Turtle Soup, this
is a very accurate sketch of a Charity dinner of the time, and it
bears the impress of truth upon it.

_Apropos_ of feeding, we may read the following travesty of the "mad
young prince" afterwards the wise Henry V. "Brighton, March 13,
ROYAL FREAK.--We are assured, that a few nights ago, the REGENT, in
a merry mood, determined to sup in the kitchen of the Pavilion. A
scarlet cloth was thrown over the pavement, a splendid repast was
provided, and the good-humoured PRINCE sat down, with a select party
of his friends, and spent a joyous hour. The whole of the servants,
particularly the female part, were, of course, delighted with this
mark of Royal condescension." Of this supper there were numerous
Satirical prints, and I have chosen the least offensive of them,
which is really laughable, the Prince being so "royally drunk." It
is called "HIGH LIFE BELOW STAIRS!! a new Farce, as lately performed
at the Theatre _Royal_, Brighton, for the edification and amusement
of the Cooks, Scullions, Dish-Washers, Lick-Trenchers, Shoe-Blacks,
Cinder-Sifters, Candle-Snuffers, &c., &c., of that Theatre, but which
was unfortunately Damn'd the first night, by Common Sense!"

[Illustration: "High Life Below Stairs!!"]

When ill, the good folks of that time, must, especially in the
country, have been very much at the mercy of quack practitioners. It
is true that both the Apothecaries Company, and the College of
Surgeons were in existence, and had been, the former since 1670, the
latter since 1745, but their diplomas were not considered absolutely
necessary in order to practise Medicine. I give an instance early
in April. "At the Stafford Assizes a cause was brought on at the
suit of the Apothecaries Company, against the son of a man who had
been originally a gardener, but who had long exercised the business
of a _cow-leech_, and _quack doctor_; the son claiming a right of
following the profession of an apothecary, through having studied
under his renowned father.

"In the cross-examination of the father by Mr. Dauncey, he was
asked if he had always been a surgeon? The witness appealed to
the Judge, if this was a proper _answer!_ and whether he must
reply to it; and, at last, said: 'I am a _surgent_' Mr. Dauncey
asked him to spell this word, which he did at several times, viz.,
'Syurgunt, surgend, surgunt, sergund.' Mr. Dauncey said, 'I am
afraid, Sir, you do not often take so much time to study the cases
which come before you, as you do to answer my question.'--'I do
not, Sir.'--Witness said he never employed himself as a gardener,
but was a farmer until he learnt his present business. Mr. Dauncey
asked, 'Who did you learn it of?'--'I learnt it of Dr. Holme, my
brother-in-law; he practised the same as the Whitworth doctors,
and they were regular physicians.'--Mr. Dauncey: 'Where did they
take their degrees?'--Witness: 'I don't believe they ever took
a degree.'--'Then were they regular physicians?'--'No, I believe
they were not; they were only doctors.'--'Only doctors! were they
doctors in law, physic, or divinity?'--'They doctored cows, and
other things, and _humans_ as well.'--Judge to witness: 'Did you
ever make up any medicine by the prescriptions of a physician?'--'I
never did.'--'Do you understand the characters they use for ounces,
scruples, and drachms?'--'I do not.'--'Then you cannot make up their
prescriptions from reading them?'--'I cannot, but I can make up as
good medicines in my way, as they can in theirs.'--'What proportion
does an ounce bear to a pound?' (a pause)--'There are sixteen ounces
to the pound; but we do not go by any regular weight; we mix ours
by the hand.'--'Do you bleed?'--'Yes.'--'With a fleam, or with a
lancet?'--'With a lancet.'--'Do you bleed from the vein, or from the
artery?'--'From the vein.'--'There is an artery somewhere about the
temples; what is the name of that artery?'--'I do not pretend to have
as much learning as some have.'--'Can you tell me the name of that
artery?'--'I do not know which you mean.'--'Suppose, then, I was
to direct you to bleed my servant, or my horse (which God forbid),
in a vein, say, for instance, the jugular vein, where should you
bleed him?'--'In the neck, to be sure.'--The Jury, almost instantly
returned a verdict for the plaintiffs!"

Over-population, coupled with distress, was beginning to be felt;
and the tide of emigration began to flow, naturally to America,
because of its proximity, and consequent cheapness of Carriage:
but Australia and New Zealand, also had their attractions--the
flax (_Phormium tenax_) of the latter place having already been
experimented upon at Portsmouth Dockyard, and favourably reported on
as a good material for rope-making, and its cost, delivered here, was
put down at £8 a ton, or a seventh of the then price of Hemp.

Yet America was the favourite place of emigration, and we read,
under date of April 14th: "The spirit of emigration from Portsmouth
continues unabated. Every packet for Havre, conveys numerous
passengers destined for America; and not less than five hundred
Englishmen are supposed to be now at Havre, waiting for a fair wind,
many of whom have been there upwards of a month. About seventy
persons, chiefly artisans and mechanics, with women and children,
amounting in the whole to at least two hundred, have embarked during
last week, intending to proceed from Havre in an American brig
belonging to Baltimore, which has been taken up expressly for the
purpose. The expenses of the voyage are to be defrayed out of a fund
which has been accumulating for some time past, by a small weekly
subscription, and the total charge for each passenger, is said to be
less than £4."

A foreign Embassy was something unusual in those days, and when they
came two at a time, it gave people something to talk about. First
to arrive was an Ambassador from Algiers; and then came the Persian
Ambassador, who created almost as great a sensation as did the Shah
when he came here in 1873. This ambassador was accompanied by a "fair
Circassian," whom people raved about, although no one ever saw her
face. Here is the contemporary account of their arrival:--

"DOVER, _April 25th_.--About three this afternoon, his Majesty's
schooner _Pioneer_ arrived in the roads, and very shortly after, the
boat belonging to the Customs put off under a salute. She had on
board the Persian Ambassador and suite, who, on landing, were greeted
with another salute from the guns on the heights. As the schooner
had been seen for some time before her arrival, there was an amazing
concourse of people assembled on the beach, and the novel nature of
the arrival of ten or a dozen persons, habited in silks and turbans,
with daggers, and long beards, in no small degree attracted the
attention of the inhabitants, whose curiosity had been raised to the
highest pitch by the different accounts of the beauty of the fair
Circassian; and, had not a coach been provided at the water's edge,
I much doubt if his Excellency and suite would have reached the Inn
without considerable difficulty.

"The crowd followed to Wright's Hotel nearly as fast as the Carriage,
it being reported by some, that the fair female was in a mask,
under the habit of a male attendant, whilst others stated she would
not be landed till the middle of the night. In about half an hour,
however, from the arrival of the first boat, a second boat came into
the harbour, and landed the Circassian Beauty! She was attended from
the schooner by Lieutenant Graham of the Preventive service, and two
black eunuchs. She was scarcely seen; for the instant she landed,
she was put into a Coach which conveyed her to the Inn. She had on
a hood, which covered the upper part of her head, and a large silk
shawl screened the lower part of her face, across the nose, from
observation; therefore her eyes, which are truly beautiful, and part
of her forehead, were the only parts of her beauties that could be
seen. She is of middle stature, and appeared very interesting. Her
look was languid from illness, arising from a rough passage. She was
conducted to a bedroom on reaching the inn, but no one was allowed to
attend her but the eunuchs."

They gave the Ambassador plenty of time to recover from his sea
voyage, for he did not have an audience of the Regent, until the
20th of May, when he had a magnificent reception. All the Royal
Servants put off their mourning for the Queen, and appeared in their
State liveries. The thing was done in style. "The procession of his
Excellency was preceded by a numerous detachment from the Corps of
Lancers, followed by six of the Prince Regent's Carriages, with
servants in their State liveries, five of them drawn by six bays,
and the sixth by six superior black horses, surrounded by a numerous
detachment of the Royal Horse Guards. The Arabian horses brought by
his Excellency to England, as a present to the Prince Regent were
drawn up in the front of Carlton House in the Courtyard at the time
of the arrival of his Excellency. In five of the Carriages, were
four of his Excellency's attendants dressed in the Costume of their
Country, Mr. Morier, the Mehmander, and Captain Willock; two of the
Carriages contained presents brought for the Regent; among them
were a most magnificent, costly sword, the sheath ornamented with
emeralds, rubies, and diamonds, also two large silver salvers, on
one of which was a splendid Cabinet, and on the other, a numerous
collection of large pearls, besides other valuable articles.

"His Excellency was attended in his Carriage by the Marquess of
Headfort, who was specially appointed, with Sir Robert Chester,
to conduct the Ambassador into the presence of the Regent. His
Excellency was dressed in a rich embroidered robe; his turban
ornamented with jewels, carrying a silver stick or staff, his
Excellency leaning on the arm of Sir Robert Chester, being a little
lame from a kick he received on Tuesday from one of his horses....

"At half-past three the Algerine Ambassador, attended by Mr. Salame,
his Excellency's interpreter, arrived at Carlton House in one of the
Regent's Carriages, the servants in their State liveries, with the
six beautiful horses brought by his Excellency as a present to the
Regent; three of them light greys, one iron grey, one black; one
of the light greys had been ridden by the Dey of Algiers, and was
most richly, and costly caparisoned, with a saddle, shabrac, bridle,
winkers, and holsters most richly embroidered with gold, with wide
silver stirrups, made according to, the fashion of that Country, with
filagree ornaments. The other numerous and costly presents were sent
to Carlton House in the course of the morning."

"The fair Circassian" was once, if not oftener, interviewed by
some ladies of "the upper ten." "May 13. THE FAIR CIRCASSIAN.--The
above much-talked of female, was, by permission of her keeper, his
Excellency the Persian Ambassador, introduced on Monday last to
upwards of twenty ladies of fashionable distinction, friends of his
Excellency. The introduction took place between one and two o'clock,
in the front drawing-room at his Excellency's residence in Charles
Street, Berkeley Square. The fair stranger was elegantly attired in
the costume of her country; her dress was a rich white satin, fringed
with gold, with a bandeau round her head, and wreaths of diamonds.
She received her visitors with graceful affability, and they were
highly pleased with her person and manners. She is not, as has been
represented, short and slender, she is of the middle stature, of
exquisite symmetry, rather _en bon point_: her complexion is of a
brownish cast, her hair of a jet black, with beautiful arched black
eyebrows, handsome black, penetrating eyes, her features regular, and
strikingly handsome. The Ladies were highly gratified, and passed
great encomiums on the elegance of her person. Lady Augusta Murray
presented the fair Circassian with a beautiful nosegay, with which
she seemed highly pleased."

She returned before the Ambassador, who stayed in England about a
year, going through England, Ireland, and Scotland. She sailed for
Constantinople on the 31st of August.

On the 1st of May Lieutenant Parry sailed from England, having under
his command the _Hecla_ and _Griper_, being bound for another voyage
of discovery in the Arctic regions.

On the 24th of May was born our beloved Sovereign Lady, Queen
Victoria. About that time, her father, the Duke of Kent, who, like
all his brothers, was deeply in debt, although he claimed to have
reduced his liabilities down to £60,000, applied to Parliament (July
2nd) for leave to dispose of his house at Castlebar Hill, and its
furniture, by lottery, for a sum of £50,000. His case was warmly
pleaded by Alderman Wood, who said that out of an income of £24,000,
he put by £17,000 for liquidation of his debts. This assertion
was, however, traversed by Sir Charles Burrell, who showed that
his Royal Highness at that moment had an income of above £31,000,
made up thus--Out of the Consolidated Fund £18,000; £7,000 from the
Government of Gibraltar; £6,000 on his late marriage; and the revenue
of the Colonelcy of the Scots Royals, with the usual allowance for
clothing that regiment. In the face of these facts, it was no use
going on with the motion, and it was withdrawn.

Both Queen and Princess Charlotte being dead, and the Princess of
Wales not being received at Court, and, besides, being abroad, the
holding of a Drawing-room, so necessary for launching Society young
ladies into life, and for their admission into Foreign Courts in
after-life, seemed rather problematical; but the Board of Green
Cloth, or whatever other authority had it in hand, was equal to
the occasion, and a precedent was found in the case of George
II., who was accustomed to hold drawing-rooms after the death of
Queen Caroline. Therefore the Regent held a Drawing-room all by
himself, and we read that "the Court was a very crowded one, and the
presentations were very numerous."

The following paragraph may interest some of the millions of people
who have visited the ever-popular exhibition of Madame Tussaud: "July
16. BONAPARTE'S CARRIAGE, &c.--At the late sale of the contents of
Mr. Bullock's Museum, the articles brought a much higher price than
was originally expected. Bonaparte's Carriage, and the different
dressing materials it contained, and which were taken by the
Prussians at Waterloo, were sought with great avidity. The following
are the prices they brought:--

"For the Carriage, which had been exhibited in every town of the
Empire, and was quite worn out in the service, there were several
bidders. It was originally built at Brussels, and had been used by
Bonaparte in the last Russian Campaign, and subsequently at Elba, and
finally in Flanders--

It was knocked down for £168 0 0
The Opera Glass 5 5 0
Tooth brush 3 13 6
Snuffbox 166 19 6
Military Stock or Collar 1 17 0
Old Slippers 1 0 0
Common Razor 4 4 0
Piece of Sponge 0 17 6
Shaving-brush 3 14 0
Shirt 2 5 0
Comb 1 0 0
Shaving box 7 7 0
Pair of Gloves-- 1 0 0
Pocket Handkerchief 1 11 6."

In my search through newspapers of this time I came across the
following--which belongs to no section of this book, and yet is too
good to leave out: "IRISH EVIDENCE.--During a trial at the Carlow
Assizes, on the 29th ult. (July, 1819), on an indictment for stealing
30 lbs. of tobacco, the following confessions were extracted from an
accomplice in the robbery, who was admitted King's evidence--

"_Q._ How many robberies have you been at altogether?

"_A._ Together! (_laughter._) Why, sure I could not be at more than
one at a time.

"_Q._ You certainly have knocked me down by that answer (_loud
laughter in Court_). Come, now, tell us how many you have been at?

"_A._ I never put them down, for I never thought it would come to my
turn to give an account of them.

"_Q._ By virtue of your oath, Sir, will you swear you have not been
at fifteen?

"_A._ I would not (_witness laughing_).

"_Q._ Would you swear that you have not been at twenty?

"_A._ I would not (_still laughing_).

"_Q._ Do you recollect robbing the Widow Byrne in the County of
Wicklow?

"_A._ The Widow Byrne--who is she? May be it is big Nell you mean?
Oh! I only took a trifle of whiskey from her, that's all.

"_Q._ Was it day or night?

"_A._ (_laughing_). Why it was night to be sure.

"_Q._ Did you not rob the poor woman of every article in the house;
even her bed-clothes, and the clothes off her back?

"_A._ I took clothes, but they were not on her back.

"_Q._ Do you recollect stealing two flitches of bacon from Dovan, the
Wexford Carman?

"_A._ Faith! I do, and a pig's head beside! (_loud laughter in
Court_).

"_Q._ Do you recollect robbing John Keogh, in the County of Wicklow,
and taking every article in his house?

"_A._ You're wrong there; I did not take everything; I only took his
money, and a few other things! (_Witness and the Auditory laughing
immoderately._)

"_Q._ Why, you're a mighty good-humoured fellow?

"_A._ There isn't a better-humoured fellow in the County--there may
be honester."

CHAPTER X.

Reform Meetings -- Peterloo -- Orator Hunt's entry into London
-- The King's last illness and death.

But I must return to my Chronicle. There were Reform Meetings
everywhere. The evils in the Representation of the people were patent
to every body who would see, but the Regent was not gifted with that
perspicuity of vision that is suitable to a Ruler of Men, and his
blindness led to deplorable results, which, after all, were probable
benefits, inasmuch as they hastened the passing of the Reform Bill.
Things were beginning to look ugly. In some districts the people were
beginning to drill, and they were not of the best class. _Vide_ the
following--

"MANCHESTER, Aug. 15.--The circumstances of parties going out to
drill, having been much talked about here, _viz._, John Shawcross,
of Blossom Street, Salford, and James Murray, of Withy Grove,
Manchester, set out this morning, about one o'clock, for the purpose
of ascertaining this fact. On their way towards Middleton, these two
persons passed several squads who were in regular Marching Order,
and they heard a great many more parties calling to each other, and,
from the answers being more distant, every time they were repeated,
supposed the fields for some extent, contained different parties.

"The place appointed for a general muster was Whitemoss, betwixt
Middleton and Oldham. When Murray and Shawcross arrived at this spot,
there were at least five hundred men at drill; the greater part were
drilled in a body; there were also detached squads of fifteen or
twenty each."

The two men were found, pounced upon as spies, and nearly kicked to
death.

I give this passage, as it shows that armed men were preparing
themselves for a conflict with the civil power, which they certainly
thought imminent, yet like all cowardly English Mobs, they howled
most valiantly, and complained of the butchery, when they came into
conflict with even Citizen Soldiery. There are some people still who
regard "Peterloo" as a massacre of the innocents: they must be either
very wrong-headed, or very badly informed. Let me give the shortest,
and most succinct, contemporaneous account of that memorable day.

"Aug. 16. A meeting of Reformers took place at Manchester, on a
vacant piece of ground, on the north side of St. Peter's. The number
of persons from Oldham, Saddleworth, Royton, and other places, were
supposed to be at least 50,000, bearing banners inscribed 'Hunt and
Liberty'--'Universal Suffrage'--'Annual Parliaments,' &c., and a Club
of female Reformers also joined the group. Mr. Henry Hunt was called
to the Chair, and commenced an harangue on the usual topics of public
grievances, during which, the Manchester Yeomanry Cavalry, aided by
the Cheshire Yeomanry Cavalry, and the 15th Hussars, advanced to
the crowd, and rode through them, sword in hand; and having arrived
at the waggon, from which the orator was declaiming, Mr. Nadin,
the police officer, arrested Hunt and Johnson, on a warrant. They
submitted quietly and were taken to gaol. The Cavalry then rode
through the mob, and seized their banners, in doing which, several
persons were killed and wounded; bricks and other missiles were
thrown at the Cavalry, who, however, succeeded in dispersing the mob:
several other persons were taken into custody in the course of the
day."

Such is an unvarnished tale of Peterloo, and the student of history
must ever bear in mind, that at this period, there were no police,
as we know them, and that in case of riot the Military were always
called out, and that they had but to obey orders.

The Radical papers held it, of course, to be a brutal massacre, and
I give one print which takes a highly poetical view of it. It is
called "The Massacre at St. Peter's, or Britons, strike home!" The
officer on extreme left calls out to his corps of butchers, "Down
with 'em! Chop 'em down! my brave boys! give them no quarter. They
want to take our Beef and Pudding from us! And, remember, the more
you kill, the less poor's rates you'll have to pay; so, go it, lads,
show your Courage, and your Loyalty! "This is about as truthful as
nine-tenths of what has been written about "Peterloo."

This was the occasion, of which I have written, that Hunt got
fined. When he was bailed, he made a "triumphal entry" into London.
Of course, like all his class, he was nothing except he was _en
evidence_. It was well organized: there was the young man from
Manchester, who had got hurt at "Peterloo," there was a huge dog with
a large white collar, bearing thereon, "No dog tax," and, at last
came the procession itself.

[Illustration: Massacre at St. Peter's; or, "Britons, Strike Home!!!"]

Horsemen.

Footmen bearing a bundle of Sticks, the emblem of Unity.

Horsemen.

Six Irish footmen, bearing a green flag, with the inscription,
"Universal, Civil and Religious Liberty."

Horsemen.

Footmen, bearing a flag of mourning--Inscription, "To the
immortal Memory of the Reformers ... at Manchester."

Horsemen.

Footmen bearing a flag--Inscription, "The Palladium of
Liberty--Liberty of the Press."

Carriages for Gentlemen connected with the Press.

Horsemen.

Footmen, bearing a Red flag--Inscription, "Universal Suffrage."

A Landau, containing MR. HUNT, preceded by a flag, with this
inscription, "Hunt, the heroic Champion of Liberty," and
surrounded by six horsemen, and Members of the Committee.

Carriages and Footmen.

A Landau, with Watson, Thistlewood, and Preston, and their
Friends.

Flag--"Trial by Jury."

Horsemen and Footmen.

Flag--"Liberty or Death."

Carriages, Horsemen, and Footmen.

Flag--"Liberty or Death."

Closed by Horses, Carriages, and Footmen.

There! does not that read like a modern Irish Procession to the
Reformer's tree in Hyde Park? It had the same value and the same
result--somebody got paid something. There were also riots in
Scotland, both in Paisley and Glasgow.

I am approaching the end of my Chronicle of the Regency. In November,
it could not be concealed that the poor old King was very bad; in
fact, now and then it was rumoured that he was dead. And so he was
to himself, and to the world. Nature was having its grand and final
fight; and in a few weeks the mortal life of George III. would be
closed. How well the following description of the old King tallies
with the portrait, which is scarce: "HIS MAJESTY.--A gentleman
who has been in his presence a short time ago, states, that the
appearance of our aged Monarch, is the most venerable imaginable. His
hair and beard are white as the drifted Snow, and the latter flows
gracefully over a breast which now feels neither the pleasures nor
the pains of life. When the gentleman saw him, he was dressed in a
loose Satin robe, lined with fur, sitting in an apparently pensive
mood, with his elbows on a table, and his head resting on his hands,
and seemed perfectly regardless of all external objects" (_Bath
Journal_).

[Illustration: George III.]

Still they hoped when there was no hope, for, under date November
26th is the following: "The examination of his Majesty's Physicians
by the Members of the Council, at Lambeth Palace, has made a strong
sensation on the public mind, as they conceive that it could only
be occasioned by the conviction in the breast of his Royal Highness
the Duke of York, that the inquiry became necessary. The result of
the examination has not transpired. Report says that his Majesty has
shown symptoms of decay, by the wasting of his person, and general
weakness, which, at the advanced age of eighty-two, are signs not
to be overlooked: but we believe, that immediate danger is not
apprehended."

On the 23rd of January death claimed the Duke of Kent, the father of
our present Queen; and on the 29th God took to Himself the poor old
King--which event necessarily brings to a close my Chronicles of the

REGENCY.

CHAPTER XI.

What was England like at this time? I have notes enough, and to
spare, _de omnibus rebus_, for a volume upon it; but I withdraw, and
allow a foreigner to give his impressions, and we shall have the
advantage of viewing England with other spectacles.[31] I extract
from a book by "M. de Levis, Duke and Peer of France," an English
translation of which was published in 1815.

[Footnote 31:

"O wad some Pow'r the giftie gie us,
To see oursels as others see us!"

BURNS, "To a Louse, on seeing one on a
Lady's bonnet, at Church."]

Of course steamboats were not, and that "silver streak" between
France and England, was even more of a bugbear than it is at present.
"Foreigners who visit England in time of peace, usually pass through
Dover; this port being the nearest point of land to the Continent of
Europe. The distance is only seven leagues, but the passage is not
the less uncertain; it varies from two hours to thirty-six, when it
becomes excessively fatiguing; obliged to struggle against the wind
in a narrow sea, and in which it is impossible to make long tacks....
The cabin is so low that you cannot stand upright; it usually
contains eight beds placed two by two upon one another, like drawers,
in a bureau. The disagreeable smell of the bedding, and of the whole
furniture, increase the sickness which the horizontal position would
tend to alleviate. This sickness is not dangerous, but it is very
severe, and sometimes persons of a delicate habit experience the
effects of it for several days. However, if this passage be often
painful, and always disagreeable, it is, at least, very safe. _In
times of peace, few days pass without packet boats crossing the
Channel_,[32] and we never hear of shipwrecks. The usual price for
the passage is one guinea for gentlemen, and half for servants; the
hire of the whole vessel costs from five to ten guineas, according to
the condition of the travellers."

[Footnote 32: My italics.--J. A.]

[Illustration: Market Women.]

[Illustration: The Waggon.]

On landing, next to the comeliness of the women and children, the
men's dress seems to have struck him. "Their dress is equally
remarkable for its fulness, uniformity, and neatness. Those
scanty clothes, so mean, and strangely absurd, which we meet with,
on the Continent, are never found in Britain, still less are the
worn-out and dirty clothes, which, preserving the traces of a luxury,
unsuitable to the condition of those who wear them, appear to be
the livery of wretchedness: on the contrary, all the apparel here
seems at first sight fresh from the manufactory, and the same taylor
appears to have cut the Coats of the whole nation....

"Large scarlet cloaks, black silk bonnets, which preserve and
heighten the fairness of their Complexion, distinguish the country
women who come to market. When a class, so inferior, is so well
dressed, we cannot doubt of the prosperity and comfort of the nation
to which it belongs."

Of course there were no railroads, and people had the choice of three
conveyances, as they now have the choice of three classes. For people
of very slender purses, there was the Waggon--very slow, but bound to
get to its destination safely--with many horses, having bells, and
yokes to the hames of their Collars; broad-tyred wheels, which could
not even sink in the mud of a country lane. But M. le Duc de Levis
could not patronize such a vehicle--he, of course, must go post. "The
Post is not, as on the Continent, an establishment dependent upon the
Government; individuals undertake this business; most of the inns
keep Post Chaises; they are good Carriages with four wheels, shut
close, the same kind as we call in France '_diligences de ville_.'
They hold three persons in the back with ease; are narrow, extremely
light; well hung, and appear the more easy, because the roads are not
paved with stone. The postillions wear a jacket with sleeves, tight
boots, and, altogether, their dress is light, and extremely neat; and
they are not only civil, but even respectful.

"On your arrival at the Inn, you are shown into a good room, where a
fire is kept in winter, and tea is ready every hour of the day. In
five minutes at most, another Chaise is ready for your departure. If
we compare these customs with those of Germany, or particularly in
the North, where you must often wait whole hours to change horses,
in a dirty room, heated by an iron stove, the smell of which is
suffocating; or even those of France, where the most part of the
post-houses, not being Inns, have no accommodation for travellers, it
is evident that the advantage is not in favour of the Continent. The
only inconvenience attached to the manner which I am describing, is
being obliged at almost every stage to untie and pack up baggage and
parcels; but English gentlemen (which will appear very extraordinary
to French ladies) and English ladies carry so little with them, that
this inconvenience is little felt. By this manner of travelling we
avoid _ennui_, and immense expense, and delays caused by frequent
mending of Carriages, which sometimes occasion the loss of rest on
the road.

[Illustration: The Post Chaise.]

[Illustration: The Mail Coach.]

"Competition is, of course, established, and the interest of the
postmasters oblige them to keep good carriages: there are many that
for their neatness may excite the envy of the foreigner. The price
of travelling is the same throughout England, one shilling a mile
for horses and carriage, without reckoning what is given to the
postillion; this is extremely cheap, considering the high price of
every article, and even in proportion to other Countries; at those
times when forage is dear, a few pence are added, but this is never
done without the concurrence of the principal postmasters of the
Country. When quick travelling is desired, four horses are provided,
driven by two postillions, and then travelling is performed with a
rapidity known only in Russia and Sweden in the winter season.

"The Mail Coaches also afford means of travelling with great celerity
into all parts of England. These are Berlins, firm and light, holding
four persons; they carry only letters, and do not take charge of any
luggage. They are drawn by four horses, and driven by one Coachman;
they travel never less than seven to eight miles an hour.

"Stage Coaches are very numerous, they are kept in every City, and
even in small towns; all these Carriages have small wheels, and hold
six persons, without reckoning the outside passengers. About twenty
years ago a carriage was invented in the form of a gondola; it is
long, and will hold sixteen persons, sitting face to face; the door
is behind, and this plan ought to be generally adopted, as the only
means of escaping a great danger when the horses run away. What
adds to the singularity of these carriages is, that they have eight
wheels; thus dividing equally the weight, they are less liable to be
overturned, or cut up the roads; they are, besides, very low and easy.

"When these long coaches first appeared at Southampton, a City much
frequented in summer by the rich inhabitants of London, who go there
to enjoy sea bathing; they had (as every new thing has) a great run,
so that it was nearly impossible to get a place in them.

"One of the principal Innkeepers, jealous of this success, set up
another, and, to obtain the preference, he reduced the fare to
half-price, at that time a guinea. In order to defeat this manoeuvre,
the first proprietor made a still greater reduction, so that, at
last, the receipts did not cover the expenses. But the two rivals did
not stop here; for one of them announced that he would take nothing
of gentlemen who might honour him by choosing his Coach, but he would
beg them to accept a bottle of Port before their departure."

After this, I think I must, for a while, leave my French Duke, and
follow my own Notes, on the road.

This was a transition age. Sedan Chairs were still used, especially
for State occasions. March 26, 1814: "The Queen and Princesses
went in Sedan Chairs on Thursday evening, in the same order as on
Wednesday evening, to dine with the Prince Regent at Carlton House."
Nor is this the only example that could be adduced.

Then, as now, there was among a certain class, an ambition to do
something, if only to drive a Coach. By the way there is no ambition
among "Noble Swells" to drive Omnibuses. Like "Tommy Onslow," who
could not only drive a Coach and two, but a Coach and four, the
gilded youths of that time sought a cheap renown, as do our modern
bankers and linendrapers, by driving public coaches!! _Chacun à
son gout._ As Artemus Ward said: "It isn't my fort," but it gives
pleasure to somebody else, and nobody ought to grumble at it. It may
give amusement to some noble lords, or otherwise, to ape the fashion
of the late James Selby, or some other professional Jehu, or for a
barber's Clerk to pay a trifle extra to sit on the box seat by the
side of My Lord; but, in the old days they took things at a better
value, and pointed out its folly. January 26, 1811: "The education
of our youth of fashion is _improving_ daily; several of them now
drive Stage Coaches to town, and open the door of the Carriage for
passengers, while the Coachman remains on the box. They farm the
_perquisites_ from the Coachman on the road, and generally pocket
something into the bargain."

January 30, 1811: "The prominent figure cut by our _young men of
fashion_ on the Coach box makes them a fit subject for ridicule on
any stage."

They used to drive fast in those days. "Mr. Milton, the Horse-dealer,
has made a match for seven hundred guineas to drive four-in-hand,
15 miles in 48 minutes, to start the week before the Epsom races
commence, and to be done within 20 miles of London. Betting is
against the undertaking." One more Newspaper cutting _re_ fast
driving, and I have done. May 16, 1815: "We have been much shocked
by reading in some papers accounts of the extraordinary expedition
of the several Leeds Coaches, occasioned, we suppose, by opposition
among themselves. One Coach boasts of having reached Newark from
London in 12 hours, a distance of 124 miles, and which takes the
Edinburgh Mail 17 hours to perform. Another is said regularly to
reach Leeds from London (194 miles) in less than 21 hours! This
is certainly most astonishing velocity, but how great must be the
sufferings of the poor horses thus unnaturally urged."

Brighton was not only the abode of the Regent, but, naturally, every
one who wanted to be somebody, went there, to pay their Court. As
we know it now, it is the promised land of the Hebrew, and the
delight of 'Arry and 'Arriette, shrimps, winkles, and the small
half-quartern glass bottle. But, dear me! Brighton had fast Coaches
then, as now--when fools and professionals drive them, and are cheap
heroes; and they gloried in publishing the fact that a horse could
go quicker than a man! A noble Ambition! Put this and that of our
times together, and how do we--in Australian language--"pan out." We,
nationally, do not seem to get wiser as we get older.

Under date October 17, 1816, we read: "A new coach was started by
some Jews in the Spring to run to Brighton, a distance of 52 miles,
in six hours, with a pledge, that if they did not accomplish the
journey in that time, they would carry the passengers gratis; to
accomplish which the horses were kept upon a gallop all the way;
and, notwithstanding this great risk, the coach was always filled
with passengers. In one of the journeys the Coachman broke three
whips. In one week 15 horses died." The authorities had, however, to
interfere, as they considered this speed both dangerous and cruel. On
July 14, 1888, a professional coachman, named James Selby, who had
accepted a bet of £1,000 that he could not drive from White Horse
Cellars, Piccadilly, to Brighton and back to the same place, within
eight hours, did it, and had ten minutes to spare. In 1818 there were
thirty-seven coaches which left and returned to Brighton daily.

There were perils in travelling then, as now, only perhaps for the
percentage of travellers, rather more so. There were highwaymen,
though they were getting somewhat scarce. But the wheels came off,
horses kicked over the traces, reins broke; and there are a thousand
and one little accidents arising from man's subjugation of the
horse, which are almost inseparable from their mutual positions;
but we hardly expect to hear that on October 27, 1812, one of the
Hampstead stages got blown over by the wind. We have already heard
that passengers were occasionally frozen to death outside a Coach.
But there is one peril one would scarcely have discounted. In Railway
travelling, if a cow gets on the line, and tilts with dire onslaught
at the train, Stephenson's grim speech, "So much the worse for the
Coo," is verified; but when a lioness breaks loose, and attacks
the horses of a Stage Coach, it strikes me that the "Coo" is the
passenger thereby.

This was a little item of news which enlivened the good folks of
1816, for on October 20th of that year the Exeter Mail Coach, on its
way to London, was attacked, at Winterslow-hut, seven miles from
Salisbury, by a lioness who had escaped from a travelling menagerie;
she sprang at one of the leaders, and for some time things were
rather mixed. Two inside passengers hurriedly got out, rushed into a
house close by, and locked themselves in. The driver wanted to get
down and emulate the old Roman gladiatorial feats, by attacking the
lioness with his pocket-knife, but the wiser counsels of his Guard
restrained him. Then appeared a _Deus ex Machina_, in the shape of a
large Mastiff dog, who "went for" _Madame la Lionne_, and made her
retreat, her keepers afterwards capturing her. I believe the horse
attacked afterwards died. But the incident, although ending fairly
happily, created a great sensation at the time.

Among the minor scenes of the road, with which people were then
familiar, were little carts drawn by dogs, as are the milk carts at
Brussels at this day. I even recollect them, and their being put
down. There is no doubt but it was in the power of a Costermonger
(for they even existed in those days) to overload and ill treat his
dog; but I believe the same liberty is even now accorded to him with
respect to his donkey.

_Apropos_ of these useful animals, my readers may not be aware of a
highly important historical fact, which my researches have unearthed.
"August 21, 1817: _Donkey-riding_ is introduced on Hampstead
Heath, and the Ladies of the neighbourhood, notwithstanding the
vicinity of the Metropolis, enjoy the mode of taking the air without
interruption. About a dozen donkies stand for hire on the Heath every
morning, most of them with side-saddles. There are also donkey carts,
and whiskies with ponies."

From the Road to the Streets, and from the Streets to the Houses,
are only graceful and legitimate transitions, and here we can again
learn something from the Duc de Levis, by using his eyes, and he thus
writes of the general aspect of London, as he saw, and judged it.
It may not be flattering to us, but we must remember, that in the
Georgian era, especially in the long reign of George III., domestic
architecture had reached its lowest depth. Mean frontages to houses,
oblong windows, small panes of bad glass; no sanitary arrangements
to speak of; a bath almost unknown; it was a time of the dullest
mediocrity. It has been reserved to the last twenty-five years of
our time to make things architectural more truly beautiful, and
to restore, with some degree of knowledge, the legacies which our
veritable art-loving ancestors left to our care.

M. le Duc says, "At length arrived in London, I should like to be
able to give an idea of this immense city, by comparing it with
other great capitals, a method which I prefer to all others; on this
occasion, unfortunately it is not. In vain have we visited Paris,
Vienna, Rome, Venice. Should you have even been at St. Petersburg
or Moscow, none of these cities can give you a just idea of the
English Capital. The greater part of large cities offer a collection
of irregular hotels, palaces, and buildings; others, like Turin,
are distinguished by long arcades. Amsterdam, Dantzic, contain a
multitude of Canals; but nothing of all this resembles London. I must
therefore have recourse to a particular description of it.

"First of all, represent to yourself wide streets running in a
straight line, with good foot-paths; iron rails, upwards of five feet
in height, are placed the whole length, which separate the houses
from the footway, by an area, narrow, and of little depth, which
lights the under stories; there are the kitchens, and the offices; a
flight of steps serves at the same time for a communication out of
doors. Over this kind of under storey is the ground floor, then the
first and the second floor, but seldom a third, and never an elevated
roof; neither is there any architectural decoration.

But every house, which has seldom more than three windows in front,
has the door ornamented with two wooden pillars, painted white,
surmounted by a heavy pediment; a small glass window gives light to
the passage; in the front is the dining parlour; underneath a room,
almost dark, because it looks only into a small opening, a few feet
wide, which does not deserve the name of a court-yard. The staircase
is sometimes of stone, but mostly of wood, and always covered with a
Carpet.

"The first storey contains the drawing-room, and a tolerably large
closet behind, where sometimes a bed is placed, but the proper
bed-chambers are in the second floor. Under the roof are garrets
for the servants. The furniture agrees with the simplicity of the
building; it is much the same among all the opulent classes. The
mantelpieces are usually of wood; no time-pieces; vases, candelabras,
brackets, bronzes, are hardly known; and of all the arts, gilding
is the least advanced. The only thing which shines is the _Grate_,
in which Sea coal is used; the front is polished steel, and kept
extremely bright; the tables, and the rest of the furniture being
mahogany, take a fine polish. The paper-hangings are of an insipid
colour, and insignificant design; the dining parlour and the halls
are painted in fresco, mostly of a pale blue colour.

"The bed-chambers are still more plainly furnished than the
drawing-room; true it is that they are made use of only for sleeping
in, as they never use them for sitting-rooms; and the bed-chambers
of the women are as inaccessible to the men as the Harems of the
East. The beds are of white dimity or calico, with mahogany posts;
and their form is simple, and does not vary. The beds, in the best
houses, are but indifferent, especially the feather beds, which they
usually cover with a blanket, and which, being placed immediately
under the sheet, is not agreeable to foreigners, particularly in the
summer season. The boudoir is unknown in England. This is, however,
the manner of living even among the most wealthy. The progress of
luxury has only lately induced them to adopt chimney-pieces of
marble, and mirrors have become more frequent....

"It is impossible to invent anything better adapted for walking the
streets of a great city than the footpaths of London; too seldom
imitated elsewhere, and always imperfectly. They are paved with
broad flag-stones, brought more than a hundred miles, and with a
magnificence that reminds us of antiquity. If the whole were put
together, they would cover the space of several square miles. They
are so even, that you walk without fatigue; and we endeavour to
forget the rough and slippery pavement on the Continent. These
footpaths are kept constantly swept, and free from dust and dirt;
and, as they are on a gentle slope, the wind and the sun soon dry
them.

"Neither is here experienced the inconvenience of gutters, which,
elsewhere, inundate passengers; and in storms, heavy rains, and
floods, stop the way. The English have an ingenious method of getting
rid of these rainy torrents; their roofs are almost flat, and the
front wall, rising above the upper floor, forms a double slope like
our terraces. The waters, being thus collected, descend by a spout
into the drains, and are lost in the great common sewer under the
middle of the streets. Sometimes they are led into cisterns. It is
not that London is destitute of this precious element; a small river,
brought at an immense expense, from a great distance; and immense
engines, worked by the Thames, distribute the water in all quarters.

"Sea coal, whose black dust attaches so easily to furniture and
clothes, is kept in cellars under the footway. In a word, Stables,
and, with them, dunghills, with the smells inseparable from them,
occupy back streets, and have no communication with the inhabited
houses. The lamps are placed on both sides of the street, upon posts
a little elevated; they are very numerous, and are always lighted
before sunset....

"They have even gone so far as to pave, with flat stones, those
places where you cross the street, to make an easier communication
from one side to the other, and these paths are swept. Carriages are
not driven at a dangerous pace in the interior of the city; lighter
equipages go the same pace as the humblest coach. The horses--so
swift on the road, that they seem to fly rather than run, forgetting
their rapid pace--only go a gentle trot; and we never see Coachmen
endeavouring to pass by and break the line at the peril of the
passenger."

If I want to give a living touch to this book, I must still quote,
because, to be honest, I must do it. Others assimilate bodily, or
paraphrase facts: then, they are "men of genius," and they call
me, in reviews, "a mere compiler." Granted; I take the latter as a
compliment, for I give the very living age, and sink myself; because
the quotations are better than can now be written--they are _of the
time_. We have novels--we have plays--mostly imaginative, because of
the ignorance of the writer; but an honest historian ought only to
give the history of the times as he has found it, and, to any one
who has conscientiously worked, the crass ignorance, and superficial
knowledge, of the present time is stupendous.

The suburbs of London were still being built, and it is pleasant to
read an _outside_ criticism upon them.

"Scarcely a year passes without hundreds of houses being built;
and even thousands, on the North East side of London; the most
healthy part of the City, on account of its elevation: besides, the
parks hinder any increase on the west. Many of the new houses are
inhabited by bankers, and rich merchants, who establish themselves
there, with their families; they, however, keep their counting
houses in the city, where they transact business till Change-time.
These daily journeys (for the distance is sometimes several miles)
would appear insupportable in any other country; but it agrees very
well with the active habits so common to all classes of the English
nation. Besides, the women, who possess, here, more influence than
is generally imagined, and who are as much afraid of damps as they
dislike noise and dirt, persuade their husbands to keep these
separate establishments, as soon as their circumstances will permit.

"The shops are regularly distributed in all parts of London, yet
without being anywhere _en masse_, as they are at Petersburg, and at
Moscow. The finest are in the environs of St. James's, because it is
here that the most money is spent. The English are unrivalled in the
art of displaying their goods to the greatest advantage; they dispose
their various kinds of merchandise with the most fascinating effect;
and, even, with an elegance quite uncommon; they thus find means
to give them an appearance far beyond their value.... The English
ladies often tax the patience of shopkeepers by making them take
down a multitude of goods, without even intending to buy anything.
Without being obsequious, these tradesmen are civilly officious, and
an air of urbanity is visible in their manners. One might suppose,
from their grave and serious deportment, that they had determined to
abate nothing from the price demanded. They are, however, like their
fellows in other countries: it is, therefore, necessary to bargain
with them.

"Foreigners act very imprudently when they speak French to each other
in shops. There are, perhaps, ten thousand shops in London, where the
French language is understood; and this number increases daily. This
is not suspected. Instead of the officious eagerness, always blended
with vanity, with which the people of the south of Europe begin to
speak a foreign language, as soon as they know a few words of it;
English sensibility is afraid of committing itself, in the use of a
language which is not their own: necessity only forces it upon them.
It is as much owing to the curiosity continually excited by the
novelties of these shops, which, each in their way, are taking to the
eye, as well as to the conveniences afforded by the foot-paths, that
we are to attribute the preference given by the idlers of London to
certain streets, instead of the public walks and parks.

"That which has been the most fashionable, for a long time, is called
Bond Street, and communicates with St. James's Street and Pall Mall,
by Piccadilly on one side; and Oxford Street on the other. When the
weather is fine, it is the rendezvous of good company; thus, in
novels, and in plays, coxcombs are all called _Bond Street Loungers_.
This latter appellation comes from the pastry cook's shops, where
they find means to wait with some patience for dinner; by taking some
slight refreshment, which the English call _a lunch_. This happens
between one and two o'clock. These shops are always supplied with
a great variety of pastry, in which currants are most used. The
refreshments consist of lemonade, or orgeat; and, in summer, very
inferior ices. At other shops forced fruit is sold at a high price.

"The public squares are almost all regularly built; their form is
oblong, from whence they take their name (?). The centre of the
greater part of the squares is laid down in grass, planted with
shrubs, and divided by gravel walks; these grounds are surrounded by
iron rails, like the 'Palais Royal' at Paris; they are always kept
shut. The neighbouring houses only, have keys, which they make use
of for an airing for children and sick persons."

Speaking of St. James's Park he says that "In the centre is a meadow,
with cattle grazing, watered by a canal, and surrounded with wooden
rails." The Green Park he dismisses in a few words, and of Hyde Park
he says that it is "the general rendezvous of all classes, who parade
here in great numbers, on foot, on horseback, and in carriages. It is
supposed that sometimes a hundred thousand persons assemble there.
This assertion seems, at first, spoken at random; but it is grounded
on probability, and even on calculation."

Then, after treating of Kensington Gardens, he says: "There are
no other gardens in London that deserve notice, except those at
Buckingham House, the usual residence of the Queen; and a few,
attached to the houses of the great. There are two or three other
gardens in the City, the access to which is not difficult, belonging
to public bodies, but they are neither large nor pleasant: besides,
the streets are so convenient and straight, that this deficiency is
less felt than elsewhere. In the suburbs, on every side, are numerous
tea gardens, where tea and other refreshments are provided. Here
bowls are played on a green as level as a billiard table; indeed they
are called bowling-greens; from whence we get our word _boulin grin_.
These public places are frequented by citizens, and their families,
on Sundays; the tranquillity, and decency, which is observed at these
places is surprising to foreigners, who recollect the turbulent
gaiety of the _Ginguettes_ of Paris, and other capitals of Europe." I
may be wrong, but, personally, I lament over the loss of the London
"Tea Gardens": they were places of innocent enjoyment, and their
popularity may be estimated, by this generation, by the open-air
gatherings at the various exhibitions at South Kensington.

CHAPTER XII.

London improvements -- The Country -- Gleaning -- Dairying and
out-door Washing -- The Gipsy.

In writing a book like this, it is manifestly impossible to give
an account of all the public works and improvements all over the
country--perforce, they must needs be confined to the national
heart--the Metropolis. And we, who have reaped the benefit of the
large-hearted, and open-handed policy which was then just being
inaugurated, may just as well be reminded of what our grandfathers
did for us.

In January, 1811, the New Kent Road was suggested, and afterwards
carried out, which was the means of purifying a not particularly
savoury neighbourhood, called St. George's Fields. In the same year,
was a proposition to convert certain dairy farm lands at Mary le
bone, into a park for public recreation. We now reap the benefit of
it in Regent's Park, or, as it was first named, Mary le bone Park.
The first stone of the Strand Bridge, "Waterloo Bridge," as it was
afterwards called, was laid in this year. Perhaps the first cast-iron
bridge ever built was, in this year, an aqueduct over the Ouse, at
Wolverton.

In 1812 the Regent's Canal was commenced, and the first stone of
Plymouth Breakwater was laid. Vauxhall Bridge was also begun.
Millbank Prison was also started this year, and in 1813 Whitecross
Street Prison was commenced. Both these have ended their existence.
To show how far in advance of their times they were, there was
a proposition in 1814 to remove Smithfield Market to Islington,
which has come to pass. In 1815, when Napoleon was supposed to be
chained at Elba, home affairs again attracted attention, and we find
Burlington Arcade in contemplation, Bethlehem Hospital, as we now
know it, opened, and the first stones of Southwark Bridge and the
London Institution were laid. So, also, the Post Office in Aldersgate
Street was inaugurated.

In 1816 Regent Street was being built, and "_Mr. Nash's Positive
Order_" was duly discussed, and, I am afraid, a wee bit ridiculed.

"Nash draws designs; but, honest Master Nash,
Tho' you may draw--who answers with the cash?"

Perhaps it might have been that he was architect to the Prince of
Wales, and was thought very much of by the Regent.

"Master Nash, Master Nash,
You merit the lash,
For debauching the taste of our Heir to the Throne,
Then cross not the Seas,
To rob the Chinese,
But learn to grow wise from Vitruvius and Soane."

We, who are accustomed to our modern London, will read, almost with
astonishment, that in October, 1816, "It is said that Oxford Road is
to be continued as far as Bayswater Brook, which, when completed,
will make the longest street in Europe. When the New Post Office is
finished, the Western Mails are to go out direct, along Holborn,
instead of through the narrow streets, Charing Cross, Piccadilly,
&c.; and it is said that a short cut is to be made into the other
western road, angular from Shepherd's Bush to Hammersmith, which,
certainly, would save a mile of ground." This "Bayswater brook" was
that which now feeds the Serpentine, running from Hampstead, by
Kilburn, and entering Hyde Park at its Northern part.

On the 18th of June, 1817, the anniversary of the battle of Waterloo,
the new Bridge over the Thames, previously called the Strand Bridge,
was opened as Waterloo Bridge, which name it now bears. In this year
there is a little bit of gossip anent Marlborough House which may be
interesting to some readers, especially as its use was foreshadowed:
"The tenure of the magnificent house near St. James's Palace, which
was granted to the first Duke of Marlborough, about a hundred years
ago, expired, it is said, with the death of the last Duke; and now
reverts to the Crown. This was the house in which Queen Anne resided
before she ascended the throne, and it has been observed, that it
would scarcely be possible to find a town mansion more suitable to
the Heiress of the British Throne."

In 1818, Regent Street was still being built, and we also
learn--"Dec. 7. The new street from Carlton House to the Regent's
Park is making rapid strides to its completion, almost the whole of
the ground on the intended line of it, being now let. The part of it
which forms a square, in front of Carlton House, is called 'Waterloo
Place'; from thence to Piccadilly, it is called Waterloo Street, and,
from Piccadilly, the street, which will form a grand approach to the
Regent's Park, is to be called the Regent's Parade."

On the 20th of March, 1819, Burlington Arcade was opened, and on
the 24th of March, Southwark Bridge followed suit. On the 10th of
August the first stone of Telford's bridge across the Menai Straits
was laid: and in November the arrangements for rebuilding Buckingham
Palace were completed, Carlton House being too small for "George the
Magnificent."

[Illustration: Sowing Broadcast.]

[Illustration: Using the Flail.]

In the Country, things were somewhat primitive, to our thinking, see,
for instance, this heavy cumbrous plough drawn by four long legged
hairy-hocked horses, with their fringed leather yokes, attached to
the hames (which, by the way were very useful, as they let down,
backward, in wet weather, and protected the horse's withers).

There were no drilling machines, so wheat, and other crops had to be
sown broadcast, an operation which required a peculiar, and deft turn
of the hand, and, as thrashing machines were only just being dreamed
of (a few having been made), we see the old flail at work.

[Illustration: The Plough.]

The agricultural labourer did not receive so much nominal pay as now,
but he had much more in kind, and was strong and healthy, although
dressed in a more homely fashion than at present. In those days a
man was not ashamed of showing himself to be what he was, a farm
labourer, and he wore that most seemly of garments, now dying out
fast--a smock frock--good home-made stockings, and strong _ancle
jacks_.

In those days, it was like the times of Boaz and Ruth, and women went
gleaning in the fields: a sight we seldom see now, in these days of
machinery, when the plough follows swiftly after the reaping machine.
The practice of gleaning was a kindly privilege granted by the farmer
to his labourers' wives and children, and to the poor women of the
parish; one which he had no need to give, but had been so practised
from early ages, that it was looked upon as a right, and consequently
abused: see the following: "Oct. 18, 1813. At the Nottingham County
Sessions, William Pearson and John Sprey were convicted of felony,
in stealing wheat in the ear, from shocks standing in the field,
and sentenced to fourteen days' imprisonment, in the county gaol.
The Chairman told them the Court would not have been so lenient,
but for their youth, and having been already _five weeks_[33] in
prison. He remarked, 'that this species of depredation was become so
prevalent, as to be loudly, and justly, complained of. He wished it,
therefore, to be understood, that no person has a right to enter the
field of another, for the purposes of gleaning, without the owner's
permission.'"

[Footnote 33: Italics are mine.--J. A.]

Old phases of English country life are dying out very fast, and it is
as well that some one should record them, and that needs both pen and
pencil. Take, for instance, the pictures of dairying. In these days
of cheese factories and thermometers _versus_ dairy maid's thumbs,
these rough out-door dairy arrangements, although they do exist, are
not particularly scientific, and do not yield the most paying
results.

[Illustration: The Farm Labourer.]

[Illustration: Gleaners.]

[Illustration: Dairy Folk.]

[Illustration: Washing Clothes.]

[Illustration: Mounted Butcher Boy.]

Even now may be seen in some parts of Scotland, and, possibly, of
Wales, the "Clapping of claes in the burn"--a process of destruction
to the linen which may be, perhaps, on a par with the chemicals of a
London laundress.

Take another type, fast dying out, absolutely gone in London, the
mounted butcher boy, who had but one stirrup, and who used all ways
to ride at racing pace: here we have him perfect; his peculiar
saddle, and the way his tray was strapped on.

[Illustration: The Gipsies.]

Then there is a race of people rapidly dying out--the gipsies; it is
impossible they can exist much longer, in their old nomadic life, and
the Lees, Coopers, &c., will be quietly absorbed into the general
population. County police and school boards are bound to improve them
out of the land.

But at the time of which I write Addison's description[34] of them
would answer very well. "If a stray piece of linen hangs upon a
hedge," says Sir Roger, "they are sure to have it; if a hog loses
his way in the fields, it is ten to one but he becomes their prey;
our geese cannot live in peace for them; if a man prosecutes them
with severity, his hen roost is sure to pay for it. They generally
straggle into these parts about this time of the year; and set the
heads of our servant maids so agog for husbands, that we do not
expect to have any business done as it should be whilst they are in
the Country. I have an honest dairy maid who crosses their hands with
a piece of silver every summer, and never fails being promised the
handsomest young fellow in the parish for her pains. Your friend the
butler has been fool enough to be seduced by them; and, though he
is sure to lose a knife, a fork, or a spoon every time his fortune
is told him, generally shuts himself up in the pantry with an old
gipsy for above half an hour once in a twelvemonth. Sweethearts are
the things they live upon, which they bestow very plentifully upon
all those that apply themselves to them. You see now and then some
handsome young jades among them; the sluts have very often white
teeth and black eyes."

[Footnote 34: _Spectator_, No. 130.]

There are one or two stories told of gipsies about the time of the
Regency, which will show what manner of men they then were. "May
17, 1815. The _Hereford Journal_ of last week states, that early
in March, a gang of gipsies pitched their tent on a waste piece of
ground in the parish of Stretton Sugwas in Herefordshire, and an old
woman, one of the party, persuaded a man of the name of Gritton,
that an immense quantity of gold coin lay concealed on the premises
he occupied, and that it was necessary that a large sum of money
should be made into a parcel, and, after being endowed with a charm,
it was to be sewed into the side-pocket of his coat, and the more
money the parcel contained, the more considerable would be the
treasure he should find. A sum of £70 in gold, bills, and silver,
was, accordingly, made up in a parcel, and, after some preparations,
sewed by the Sybil into the pocket of Gritton's coat, where it was to
remain nine days; at the end of which time she promised to return,
and a coffer of guineas was to arise from the ground. When the day
arrived, she, of course, did not make her appearance, and, on his
opening the parcel she had sewn up, he discovered that the witch had
managed to turn gold, silver, and bills into halfpence, stones, and
waste paper; leaving them in exchange for his cash, and as a reward
for his folly."

"July 18, 1816. _The Gipsies._--Of late years some attempts have been
made to reduce the numbers, or at any rate to civilize the habits,
of that vagabond and useless race, the gipsies. In pursuance of such
purpose, a society of gentlemen have been making all the preliminary
inquiries requisite to a proper understanding of the subject. A
series of questions have been proposed to competent persons in the
different counties in England and Scotland. Reports in answer to
these questions have been received, and their contents are thus
briefly stated.

"1. All Gipsies supposed the first of them came from Egypt.

"2. They cannot form any idea of the number in England.

"3. The Gipsies of Bedfordshire, Hertfordshire, parts of
Buckinghamshire, Cambridge, and Huntingdonshire, are continually
making revolutions within the range of those counties.

"4. They are either ignorant of the number of Gipsies in the counties
through which they travel, or unwilling, to disclose their knowledge.

"5. The most common names are Smith, Cowper, Draper, Bosswell,
Lovell, Loversedge, Allen, Mansfield, Glover, Williams, Carew,
Martin, Stanley, Buckley, Plunkett, and Corrie.

"6 and 7. The gangs in different towns have not any regular
connection or organization; but those who take up their winter
quarters in the same city or town, appear to have some knowledge of
the different routes each horde will pursue; probably with a design
to prevent interference.

"8. In the county of Herts it is computed there may be sixty
families, having many Children. Whether they are quite so numerous
in Buckinghamshire, Bedfordshire, and Northamptonshire, the answers
are not sufficiently definite to determine. In Cambridgeshire,
Oxfordshire, Warwickshire, Wiltshire, and Dorsetshire, great numbers
are calculated upon. In various counties, the attention has not been
competent to the procuring data for any estimate of families or
individuals.

"9. More than half their number follow no business; others are
dealers in horses and asses; farriers, smiths, tinkers, braziers,
grinders of cutlery, basket-makers, chair-bottomers, and musicians.

"10. Children are brought up in the habits of their parents,
particularly to music and dancing, and are of dissolute conduct.

"11. The Women mostly carry baskets with trinkets and small wares;
and tell fortunes.

"12. Too ignorant to have acquired accounts of genealogy, and,
perhaps, indisposed to it by the irregularity of their habits.

"13. In most counties there are particular situations to which they
are partial. In Berkshire is a marsh, near Newbury, much frequented
by them; and Dr. Clarke states, that in Cambridgeshire, their
principal rendezvous is near the western villages.

"14. It cannot be ascertained, whether, from their first coming into
the nation, attachment to particular places has prevailed.

"15, 16, and 17. When among strangers they elude inquiries respecting
their peculiar language, calling it gibberish. Don't know of any
person that can write it, or of any written specimen of it.

"18. Their habits and customs in all places are peculiar.

"19. Those who profess any religion represent it to be that of the
Country in which they reside; but their description of it seldom goes
beyond repeating the Lord's prayer; and, only few of them are capable
of that. Instances of their attending any place for worship are very
rare.

"20. They marry, for the most part, by pledging to each other,
without any ceremony. A few exceptions have occurred, when money was
plentiful.

"21. They do not teach their Children religion.

"22 and 23. Not _one_ in a _thousand_ can read.

"24 and 25. Some go into lodgings in London, Cambridge, &c., during
the winter; but it is calculated three-fourths of them live out of
doors in winter as in summer."

[Illustration: Walking Costume. 1812.]

[Illustration: Ladies' Head-Dress.]

[Illustration: Nos. 1 and 2, 1811; No. 3, 1812; Nos. 4 and 5, 1813.]

[Illustration: Nos. 1 and 2, 1814; Nos. 3 and 4, 1815.]

CHAPTER XIII.

For the limits of a book like this, I have spent enough time on the
Roads, Streets, Country, and even Gipsies, so let me turn to the men
and women of the time. _Place aux dames_ of course--so we will begin
with the ladies first. And in the next few engravings which I give
are culled specimens of women's dresses from 1811 to 1820.

Of course there would be caricatures--some rather _outrée_, others
very moderate--I give two of the _Dandizette_ or _Dandyess_ as
she was indifferently called, one true, the other, as with her
concomitants, perhaps, a trifle exaggerated--but not a great deal.
Perhaps it is most so in "the Fashionables of 1816," where, I must
own, the feathers in the bonnets, the large Muffs, and the short
skirts are, doubtless, slightly in advance of the fashion, but it is
an amusing picture, with no harm in it, and I give it. Of course, I
cannot vouch for its truth, but the following little story is as I
find it: "June 8, 1812. A young lady of rank and high Condition, in
the warmth of her dancing heart, thus addressed her partner at the
late Lord Mayor's ball.--'God bless you--take care and don't tread
upon my muslin gown, for you see that I have nothing under it.'"

And, when we look at a really sensible picture of a dance (Waltzing),
I do not think it is very much exaggerated. Waltzing was considered
by some as awfully wicked. It may be. Personally, my dancing days are
over, but I never felt particularly sinful when waltzing--Mrs. Grundy
is another name for nastiness. For instance, take two separate verses
in the same paper:--

"What! the girl of my heart by another embrac'd?
What! the balm of her lips shall another man taste?
What! touch'd in the twirl by another man's knee?
What! panting recline on another than me?"

Very properly rebuked thus:--

"Sir H. E. thinks each waltzing Miss
From every partner takes a kiss;
Then O! how natural the whim
That makes them loath to dance with him."

[Illustration: Fashionables of 1816 Taking the Air in Hyde Park.]

[Illustration: Belles and Beaus; or, A Scene in Hyde Park, August
12, 1817.]

[Illustration: A Dandyess, 1819.]

[Illustration: Waltzing.]

Read "The Waltz," by Lord Byron, and see what was thought of this
dance. On June 9, 1817, we read: "_Quadrilles_ have had but a
short run. They have now had a lamentable descent, not from the
drawing-room to the kitchen, to supersede the _Contre Danse_, but
from Almack's to Hockley in the Hole. Though they have not yet fallen
into the kitchen, the kitchen has risen to them. Some days ago the
Lady of a Noble Admiral, lately returned from the Mediterranean,
happened to come home from a Ball unexpectedly, when her Ladyship
found all her domestics busily employed in a _quadrille_ in the
drawing-room, with the chandeliers lighted up, and a regular band of
two violins, a bass, and a harp. Her Ladyship owns that they danced
them with as much grace and spirit as is visible elsewhere." And
they did dance in those days--there was no languid walking through
a quadrille. All the steps were properly and accurately performed.
I have before me engravings of a set of all the figures--_1 Le
Pantalon_, _2 L'Été_, _3 La Poule_, _4 La Trenise_, or _4 La
Pastorale_ and _La Finale_, which are delicious, but are too large
for reproduction in this book.

Of course, the _Crême de la crême_ went to Almack's, but numberless
were the Peris who sighed to enter that Paradise, and could not.
Capt. Gronow, writing of 1814, says: "At the present time one
can hardly conceive the importance which was attached to getting
admission to Almack's, the seventh heaven of the fashionable world.
Of the three hundred officers of the Foot Guards, not more than half
a dozen were honoured with vouchers of admission to this exclusive
temple of the _beau monde_; the gates of which were guarded by
lady patronesses, whose smiles or frowns consigned men and women
to happiness or despair. These lady patronesses were the Ladies
Castlereagh, Jersey, Cowper, and Sefton, Mrs. Drummond Burrell, the
Princess Esterhazy, and the Countess Lieven."

In a Newspaper of May 12, 1817, we read--"The _rigorous rule_ of
entry established at Almack's Rooms produced a curious incident
at the last Ball. The Marquis and Marchioness of W----r, the
Marchioness of T----, Lady Charlotte C----, and her daughter, had
all been so imprudent as to come to the rooms without tickets; and,
though so intimately known to the Lady Managers, and so perfectly
unexceptionable, they were politely requested to withdraw, and
accordingly they all submitted to the injunction."

Again, at the beginning of the season of 1819 we find these female
tyrants issuing the following _ukase_: "An order has been issued,
we understand, by the Lady Patronesses of Almack's, to prevent the
admission of Gentlemen in _Trowsers_ and _Cossacks_ to the balls on
Wednesdays--at the same time allowing an exception to those Gentlemen
who may be _knock-kneed_, or otherwise deformed." But the male sex
were equal to the occasion, as we find in the following lines:--

"TO THE LADY PATRONESSES OF ALMACK'S.

Tired of our trousers are ye grown?
But, since to them your anger reaches,
Is it because 'tis so well known,
_You_ always love _to wear the breeches_?"

I have collected a quantity of _ana_ respecting ladies' dress of this
period, but some would take too long to explain their point, and
others are too _risqué_ for the modern Mrs. Grundy. However, here is
one which can offend no one: "August, 1814. The Wife of a respectable
citizen has excited a good deal of curiosity at Margate. She bathes
in a green dress, without a cap; and, attached to the shoulders of
the dress is something resembling fins. She swims remarkably well,
and the peculiarity of her paraphernalia, together with her long
black hair, have occasioned many to believe that she was a _mermaid_."

Women were not, as a rule, what we should now term, highly educated:
they knew very little of the "ologies," but they were good women, and
true. Their music had not reached the sublime height of the weird
discord of Wagner, and they knew nothing of the "Higher Cult;" but
they had as pretty ballads to sing as ever were sung, from which
we are glad to borrow, and which are refreshing to hear. They did
beautiful needlework, and vied with each other in this respect, they
painted a little on velvet and satin--sometimes did a little mild
water colour on paper--but their efforts were hardly commendable as
works of art, according to our modern standard. But they were notable
house wives, and there were female servants in those days who were
not above their position, but knew their work, and did it. There were
no five o'clock teas, no reception days; all had their circle of
acquaintances, who were welcome to call whenever they chose, and were
received without fuss: in fact, as a rule, the women were helps-meet
for their spouses--thrifty, caring for their husbands and children,
and were, essentially, home makers.

In the Country, the whir of the spinning-wheel might be heard--but
such a thing is not to be seen in use now except in dilletante hands,
like those of Her Most gracious Majesty. Then, too, at a Cottage
door might be seen a woman making pillow lace, now getting rarer
and rarer, and it is not an occupation much taken up by the higher
classes, as it shows small results for much hand-and-brain work.
Straw-plaiting in some districts, glove sewing in others. Now we get
straw plait from China, and the gloves are machine sewn. Then all
the milk carrying, especially in London, was done by a hardy race of
women, principally Welsh, carrying yokes and pails, now the Milk Cart
and Perambulator have superseded them.

[Illustration: At the Spinning-Wheel.]

[Illustration: Making Pillow Lace.]

[Illustration: Milk Woman.]

And there must have been women of thews and muscle, with plenty of
pluck, or we should not hear of so many female sailors, and
soldiers, during this period. In May, 1813, one was taken on board
an American prize, and her sex was only discovered on her being
sent to prison. In September of the same year, the master of a
Collier, belonging to Ipswich, had reason to believe that one of his
apprentices who had made two voyages, was a girl, and so it proved,
and, as in the former case, the girl appeared to be a respectable,
steady, young man, so in this latter, whilst she was on board, she
conducted herself with great propriety, and was considered a very
active clever lad. Again, in September, 1815, when the Crew of the
_Queen Charlotte_, 110 guns, was paid off, one of the Crew, an
African, was discovered to be a woman. She "had served as a seaman
in the Royal Navy for upwards of eleven years, during several of
which she had been rated able on the books of the above ship, by the
name of William Brown, and had served for sometime as Captain of the
foretop, highly to the satisfaction of the officers."

But the ladies did not confine themselves to "ploughing the main."
We know what an attraction a red coat has for them, and therefore
no surprise need be manifested, if some of them tried the Army. In
January, 1813, was a rather romantic case: a girl, in man's clothes,
was enlisted in the 53rd Regiment. Her sex was afterwards discovered
when she said her lover was in the 43rd Regiment on foreign service,
and she wanted to be near him. In 1814, Old Phoebe Hassel was alive,
and at Brighton, aged 99. She had served in the army for seven
years. I do not know when she died, but there is a portrait and
biography of her in Hone's "Year Book," ed. 1838, pp. 209, 210, 211,
212, in which she is spoken of as being 106 in 1821. The Regent,
after seeing her in 1814, allowed her half a guinea a week, and at
her death ordered a stone to be put up to her memory. Another woman
who had served five years in the German army, applied for relief to
the German Committee at Baker's Coffee-house--she had been several
times wounded, but was so badly hit at Leipsig, that she had to be
taken to hospital, where her sex was discovered.

Women were then even as now, they aped the manners of the stronger
sex. Now as we know, they invade the Smoking and Billiard Rooms,
which used to be considered Man's strongholds; they won't let him
alone even when shooting--for, so solicitous are they after his
welfare, that they will bring him lunch: they run him hard in School
Board, and County Council, and his last refuge is his Club, where, in
some instances, he is not safe. We have seen how (vol. i. p. 86) they
played Cricket publicly--a practice lately revived by "Actresses"
and others. We know them well on the river, but I do not know of a
revival of professional boat racing by them, so I give the following:

"FEMALE ROWING MATCH.--A rowing match took place on Monday (September
29, 1817), on the river, between Chelsea and Battersea, which excited
great interest. Six watermen's wives started in six scullers, to row
a given distance for a wherry. The ladies were dressed in appropriate
trimmings, and the boats were discriminated by different colours
waving gracefully in the wind, at the stern. In the first heat two of
the Candidates were distanced. The remaining four then started, and
the prize was won, at two heats, by a strapping woman, the mother of
four children. At the moment of her arrival at the goal, her victory
was proclaimed by the discharge of a pistol by the Judge on shore,
and she was carried in triumph into a public-house on the beach.
No jolly young waterman could handle his oar with more becoming
dexterity than this dashing female. Her numerous friends crowded
after her, and drank her health in copious libations."

They were equal to us even in "FEMALE PEDESTRIANISM. Esther Crozier,
who commenced on Wednesday (29th of October, 1817) morning, on the
Croydon road, to walk 1000 miles in 20 days, completed 50 miles that
evening, at 35 minutes past 9. She commenced her second day's journey
yesterday morning (October 30th) at a quarter before 7 o'clock, and,
at a quarter past 4 she had gone 32-3/4 miles." She is mentioned
again and again in the papers as going on with her task; but I do not
think she accomplished it, as I find no triumphal record of it.

I suppose the proudest day of a woman's life is her Marriage day,
and so we will talk about Marriage in these times. A trip over the
border was a common event, but the smith who forged the matrimonial
fetters at Gretna Green, was not always a common individual. Early
in January, 1811, one of them, Joseph Paisley, died, at the ripe age
of seventy-nine. He was by vocation a salmon-fisher, and a brandy
drinker of such capacity, that he could drink a pint of brandy at
a draught, without its having any appreciable effect upon him: he
and a brother toper, between them, drank ten gallons of brandy in
three days. He was a foul-mouthed blackguard, but he served his
purpose of marrying runaway couples, as well as a better man, and his
marriages were just as valid. He obtained the honour of an obituary
notice in the London Daily Papers, the _Annual Register_, and the
_Lady's Magazine_, in which he is also perpetuated by a copper-plate
portrait--so that he must have been considered somebody.

These were not the only curious marriages of that time; take this as
a sample (August 23, 1815): "THE NAKED TRUTH.--A scene of a singular
and disgraceful nature took place a few days ago at Grimsby. A widow,
under the impression of indemnifying her _second_, from the debts
of her _first_ husband, proceeded out of the window, in a state of
nudity, where she was received into the arms of her _intended_, in
the presence of two substantial witnesses." This is a curious old
tradition--the origin of which I must quote from myself.[35] "This
is not uncommon, the object being, according to a vulgar error,
to exempt the husband from the payment of any debts his wife may
have contracted in her ante-nuptial condition. This error seems to
have been founded on a misconception of the law, because it is laid
down (_Bacon's Abridgement_, Tit. Baron and Feme) that 'the husband
is liable for the wife's debts, _because_ he acquires an absolute
interest in the personal estate of the wife,' &c. An unlearned
person, from this, might conclude, and not unreasonably, that, if his
wife _had no estate whatever_, he could not incur any liability."

[Footnote 35: "Social Life in the Reign of Queen Anne," by
John Ashton.]

One more little story about Matrimony in those times, and I have
done. "A young man, having long wooed a buxom damsel, at last found
a moment so favourable, that he persuaded her to accompany him
to a Scotch Justice of the Peace, to have the ceremony performed
between them. They stood very meekly under the operation until the
Magistrate was laying the damsel under obligations to obey her
husband. 'Say no more about that, Sir,' said the half-made husband,
'if this hand remains upon this body, I'll make her obey me!'--'Are
we married yet?' said the exasperated maiden to the ratifier of
Covenants between man and woman. 'No,' said the wondering Justice.
'Ah! very well,' cried she, enraptured, 'we will finish the remainder
to-morrow!' and away skipped the damsel, congratulating herself on
her narrow escape.

CHAPTER XIV.

The Man of the period -- Drinking habits -- Dandies -- Lord
Petersham -- A Dandy's diary -- Gaming -- Prize fighting --
Country Sports.

And what was the man of the period like? Well! there is no concealing
the fact that he was narrow-minded--because he had no opportunity
of mixing much with his other fellow creatures either abroad or
at home--war stopping the former, and means of communication the
latter, and so, the necessary rubbing off of his angles did not take
place. The Middle Class gentleman was not too well read. Latin, of
course, he knew, or had learnt. Perhaps a little Greek--his French
was very "Stratforde at y{e} Bowe," and German was to him "unknowe."
His English, too, was shaky. The Peninsular War over, the Officers
brought back with them a smattering of Spanish, the Guitar, and
the Cigar. Personally, he had plenty of Courage which found its
vent in the Army and Navy, and, in Civil life, in duelling and
boxing. As to duelling, it was so common that you can scarcely take
up a London Newspaper of the time without some "affair of honour"
being chronicled; and, as to boxing, every man learnt it, put his
teaching into practice, and talked it. It was, except pedestrianism,
the only athletic sport known. Rowing was not; of riding there was
plenty, with a good breed of horses fit to carry a man. Cricket was
played--but there was no football, nor cycling, if we except the
short-lived dandy horse.

They worked longer hours at their divers businesses than we do, but
they did far less work; they dined early, and had suppers, and, for
evening amusements there were the theatre, and the social meeting
at the Inn, where much Rum Punch and Brown Brandy was drunk, and
the affairs of the Nation duly discussed, among a select Coterie.
Those old boys could drink, too. A three-or four-bottle man, then
common, would now be a phenomenon--and, mind you, it was not Claret
or other light wines they drank--the war with France made that too
great a luxury; but it was the stronger wines of Portugal and Spain,
well fortified with brandy. I wonder how many died in "making their
heads," and whether it was always "the survival of the fittest"!

[Illustration:

No. 1. "Are you all charged, Gentlemen."

No. 2. "A song, Gentlemen, if you please."

No. 3. "Sing Old Rose, and burn the bellows."

No. 4. "I humbly move to throw the waiter out of the window, and
charge him in the bill!"]

They were of Convivial habits, and did not "join the ladies" after
dinner, or, if they did, they were slightly inebriate, and the
accompanying illustrations are no caricature of an advanced stage
of a _symposium_. No. 1 is, "Are you all charged, Gentlemen?" No. 2
is, "A Song, Gentlemen, if you please." No. 3 is, "Sing Old Rose and
burn the bellows."[36] No. 4 says, "I humbly move to throw the waiter
out of the window, and charge him in the bill!"

[Footnote 36: _Isaac Walton_ says, "Now let's go to an
honest alehouse where we may have a cup of good barley
wine, and sing 'Old Rose,' and all of us rejoice together."
And we get a presumed explanation of the Song in _The
British Apollo_ (1708-9).

"In good King Stephen's days, the Ram,
An ancient inn at Nottingham,
Was kept, as our wise father knows,
By a brisk female call'd _Old Rose_;
Many, like you, who hated thinking,
Or any other theme than drinking,
Met there, d'ye see, in sanguine hope
To kiss their landlady, and tope;
But one cross night, 'mongst twenty other,
The fire burnt not, without great pother,
Till _Rose_, at last, began to sing,
And the cold blades to dance and spring;
So, by their exercise and kisses,
They grew as warm as were their wishes;
When, scorning fire, the jolly fellows
Cry'd, '_Sing Old Rose, and burn the bellows_.'"]

Very little need be said about their dress, the illustrations
throughout the book show its different phases. The Regent, of course,
set the fashions, for tailoring, and building, were his hobbies; but
even he could not do anything against the dictum of George Bryan
Brummell. When he retired in poverty to Calais, in 1816, he left the
field entirely to the Regent. There were some who gained a nickname
from some eccentricity in costume as "Blue Hanger" (Lord Coleraine),
or "Pea-green Haynes"--but they were not many.

The principal variation in men's attire, at this period, was the
way in which they clothed their legs. Breeches and boots were now
eschewed by fashionable men, and their place was taken by the
pantaloon, made of some elastic stuff, generally "stockinette,"
fitting tightly to the leg, and after 1814 by the Cossack trouser:
an example of both being given in two pictures of Lord Petersham, a
distinguished leader of fashion, who married Miss Foote, the actress,
and afterwards became Earl of Harrington. Over the trousered picture
are these lines:--

"I'll prove these Cossack pantaloons
(To one that's not a Goose)
Are like two Continental towns
Called Too-long and Too-loose."

[Illustration: A Portrait (Lord Petersham). (_Published January 10,
1812, by H. Humphrey._)]

[Illustration: Lord Petersham. 1815.]

[Illustration: Dandy on Horseback. (_November 2, 1818._)]

[Illustration: A Dandy. (_December 8, 1818._)]

This was that Lord Petersham who never went out of doors till six
p.m., and whose horses, carriage, and harness, were all of the same
shade of brown. He had other foibles which are amusingly told by
Capt. Gronow. "The room into which we were ushered was more like
a shop than a gentleman's sitting room; all round the walls were
shelves, upon which were placed the canisters, containing Congou,
Pekoe, Souchong, Bohea, Gunpowder, Russian, and many other teas, all
the best of their kind; on the other side of the room were
beautiful jars, with names, in gilt letters, of innumerable kinds of
snuff, and all the necessary apparatus for moistening and mixing.
Lord Petersham's mixture is still well known to all tobacconists.
Other shelves, and many of the tables were covered with a great
number of magnificent snuff-boxes; for Lord Petersham had, perhaps,
the finest collection in England, and was supposed to have a fresh
box for every day in the year. I heard him, on the occasion of a
delightful old light blue Sèvres box he was using, being admired,
say, in his lisping way--'Yes, it is a nice summer box, but would not
do for winter wear.' In this museum there were also innumerable canes
of very great value. The Viscount was likewise a great Mæcenas among
the tailors, and a particular kind of great coat, when I was a young
man, was called a Petersham."

These trousers later on (see illustration, Nov., 1818) were worn,
instead of breeches and boots, on horseback, but this was only
affected by the "Dandy," a term which came into vogue two or three
years before this time, and which, according to Webster, is derived
from the French _dandin_, "a ninny, a silly fellow." The Dandy at
his toilet is of the same date, and here we see him in his evening
dress. The huge cocked hat is exaggerated, but it was the shape of
the _chapeau bras_, which folded flat, and was carried as we now
do a _Gibus_. The looking-glass, wash-stand, &c., are very meagre
according to our ideas, but much ornament was not lavished on bedroom
furniture.

Here is the Diary of a Dandy (Sept., 1818):--

"SATURDAY.--Rose at twelve, with a d----d headache. _Mem._ Not to
drink the _Regent's Punch_ after supper.--The green tea keeps one
awake.

"Breakfasted at one.--Read the _Morning Post_--the best Paper after
all--always full of _wit_, _fine writing_, and _good_ news.

"Sent for the tailor and staymaker--ordered a morning _demi surtout_
of the last Parisian cut, with the collar _à la Guillotine_, to show
the neck behind--a pair of _Petersham Pantaloons_, with striped
flounces at bottom--and a pair of _Cumberland corsets_ with a
whale-bone back.--_A caution to the unwary._ The last pair gave way
in stooping to pick up Lady B.'s glove.--The Duke of C----e vulgar
enough to laugh, and asked me in the _sea slang_, if I had not
_missed stays in tacking_. Find this is an old joke stolen from the
_Fudge Family_.--Query. Who is this Tom Brown? Not known at _Long's_
or the _Clarendon_.

"Three o'clock.--Drove out in the _Dennet_--took a few turns in Pall
Mall, St. James's Street, and Piccadilly.--Got out at Grange's--was
told the thermometer in the _ice cellar_ was at 80. _Prodigious!_ Had
three glasses of _pine_ and one of _Curaçoa_--the _Prince's Fancy_,
as P---- calls it.--P. is _a wag in his way_.

"Five to seven. Dressed for the evening--dined at half-past eight,
'nobody with me but myself,' as the old Duke of Cumberland said--a
neat dinner, in _Long's best style_, viz., A tureen of turtle, a
small turbot, a dish of Carlton House Cutlets.--_Remove_--a turkey
poult, and an apricot tart.--_Dessert_--Pine apple and brandy
cherries.

"Drank two tumblers of the Regent's Punch, iced, and a pint of
Madeira.--Went to the Opera in high spirits--just over--forgot the
curtain drops on Saturdays before twelve.--_Mem._ To dine at seven on
Saturdays.

"Supped at the Clarendon with the _Dandy Club_--cold
collation--played a few rounds of Chicken Hazard, and went to bed
quite cool.

"SUNDAY. Breakfasted at three--ordered the _Tilbury_--took a round
of _Rotten Row_, and the _Squeeze_, in Hyde Park--cursedly annoyed
with dust in all directions--dined soberly with P----m and went to
the Marchioness of S----y's _Conversatione_ in the evening--dull but
genteel--P. calls it the _Sunday School_.

"N.B. P----m, who is curious in his snuff as well as in his snuff
boxes, has invented a new _mixture_, Wellington's and Blücher's,
which he has named, in honour of the meeting of the two heroes, after
the battle of Waterloo--_La belle Alliance_--a good hit--_not to be
sneezed at_."

"A DANDY

I do remember me in Hertford streets
Walking at noon, I met an exquisite,
A thing, whose neck in Oriental tie,
Where not a crease is seen, so stiff withal
The powers of starch had rendered it, tho' made
Of finest muslin, that to my wondering gaze,
(Unlike the ease of Nature's masterpiece),
It seem'd as 'twere a mere automaton;
And then its shape, so all unlike a man,
So tightly laced that 'twas self-evident
He walk'd in pain, if walking 't could be call'd,
Since from the earth to raise his languid foot,
It seem'd a labour too Herculean;
But, still, thus mincingly, he reached the Bell--
There stopped. I, being anxious to o'erhear
The sounds this creature, nicknam'd man, would utter,
Entered the room apologizing to it;
No answer I receiv'd, save a low murmur,
For too fatiguing 'twas to articulate.
Finding it useless farther to intrude,
I asked the waiter who and whence he was?
'One of our College[37] Dandies,' he replied.
No longer wondering, straight I left the Inn."

[Footnote 37: The East India College.]

Naturally, the tight-fitting pantaloon required a well-made leg, so
those gentlemen to whom Nature had not been bountiful, used false
calves, and thus passed muster. They took snuff in quantities, but
very rarely smoked. When Lord Petersham's Collection of Snuff was
sold, it took one of the partners in the firm of Fribourg and Treyer,
of the Haymarket, and two assistants three days to weigh it--and the
same firm, when they bought George IV.'s collection, at his death,
set a room apart, entirely for its sale.

They gambled terribly, not perhaps as much as now, but still large
sums were won, and lost, on the cast of a die. March 28, 1811: "The
brother of a Noble Marquis, is said to have lately won at _hazard_
upwards of £30,000, all in one night!" April 3, 1811: "A young
gentleman of family and fortune lost £7,000 on Sunday Morning at
a gaming house in the neighbourhood of Pall Mall." But, although
the Turf was an Institution of the day, there was but very little
betting, compared to what goes on in that gigantic Cancer which so
grievously afflicts England in the present day. Nor had they such a
stupendous gamble as our Stock Exchange. There was plenty of betting
on Cock fighting, which was a very fashionable amusement, even
patronized by our Imperial Guest, the Grand Duke Nicholas, who, on
February 10, 1817, accompanied by the Duke of Devonshire, the Russian
Ambassador, Sir William Congreve, Baron Nichola, General Kutusoff,
&c., &c., went to the Cockpit and saw five Cock fights. "His Imperial
Highness remained an hour and a half, and appeared much amused, never
having seen Cock fighting before."

But then he was here to study our manners and customs, and even went
to a prize fight. February 14, 1817: "An Imperial Boxing Match, to
use the general term of the ring, took place yesterday at Coombe
Warren, for a subscription purse of twenty guineas, between Croxey
the Sailor, a _bustling_ second rater, and a candidate for _milling_
notoriety.... The Grand Duke Nicholas desirous of viewing the British
character throughout, signified his wish to see the method of English
boxing.... His Imperial Highness arrived at the ring in a carriage
and four, at one o'clock, accompanied by his own suite, and some
English Noblemen, admirers of gymnastics. A waggon was reserved for
the Grand Duke's reception, and he ascended it with a hearty laugh.
Under it were placed the bull dogs and _bull hankers_ for the last
sports of the day. Bill Gibbons introduced his trusty bitch to the
Patricians in the waggon as the favourite for the _Bull_ prize."

The fight, or rather the fights, for there were two of them, took
place, but they were stigmatized as very poor and tame affairs. "The
Bull was the next object of attack, for a silver collar, and all
the fancy buffers the town could produce were let go from the Royal
waggon, which was decorated with purple flags. Gibbons' fancy dog was
lamed early, but the best of the fun was, after the bull had broken
a horn, he began to snort up on end, and went and got loose. Helter
skelter was the consequence, and the bull, as regardless of men as
dogs, made play through the ground, reclining his head, and tossing
mortals before him, until he got clear off, upsetting carts, &c.,
that impeded his way. The fun concluded just before dark, and the
whole sport went off with _éclat_."

[Illustration: Playing at Bowls and Quoits.]

_Apropos_ of prize fighting the last sentence in the following
paragraph is worthy of note. Feb. 28, 1817: "Carter next asked
to be backed to fight any man, when Cribb mounted the table, and
challenged to fight any thing in being, from _three_ to _twelve_
hundred, observing he had fought so often that he should not again
prostitute his talent for a trifle. Carter said he thought the
Carlisle people would back him for £300, and he would ask them. After
devouring about twenty dozen of wine, the lads departed _to spend the
evening_, and amuse themselves at the expense of lamp contractors and
watchmen's rattles."

Although we may think all this very brutal, yet, with the exception
of the bull baiting, which was only made illegal in 1835, I fancy
that things go on very much now, as they did then, only they are done
more quietly. In the country, men had their hunting, shooting, and
fishing to amuse them, and they were as keen then as in our time.
True, they did not rent deer forests in Scotland, at fabulous prices,
nor did they take salmon rivers in Norway; but although they did
not enjoy breechloaders, with spare gun ready loaded handed as soon
as the other is discharged, and though they were innocent of the
cruel slaughter of a _battue_, yet they had good sport both in wood
and stubble, and the old flint gun, if held straight, would make a
respectable bag to carry home. Then they played cricket, but they did
not armour themselves, because there was no necessity for so doing,
the ball then being bowled and not hurled as if from a cannon. Then
for the quieter and middle-aged there were the healthy out-door games
of bowls or quoits.

Among the younger men the manly sports of wrestling, quarter-staff,
and back-sword, had not died out, but then they had not the advantage
that we have of football and Rugby rules.

CHAPTER XV.

Eating and drinking -- Recipe for Punch -- The Stage -- Baron
Geramb -- Romeo Coates -- Actors and Actresses -- Mrs. Jordan.

Perhaps they ate more solid food than we do, and it was a point of
honour, at a dinner, to provide and display vastly more food than
could possibly be eaten. As an example. On Jan. 1, 1811, General
Grosvenor, Mayor of Chester, gave a dinner to his friends and two
hundred sat down. Here is the bill of fare: "Sixteen tureens of
turtle, eight boiled turkeys, three hams, four dishes of _à la
mode_ beef, five pigeon pies, three saddles of mutton, thirteen
plum puddings, six dishes of murinade pork, eight French pies, four
roasted turkeys, eight dishes of rabbits, three legs of mutton, four
geese, two fillets of veal, ten dishes of chickens, four dishes of
veal surprise, three beef-steak pies, three dishes of sweetbreads,
six hares, six venison pasties, eight dishes of ducks, six oyster
patties, six dishes of mutton casserole, six dishes of pig, six lemon
puddings, eight dishes of haricoed mutton, four neat's tongues, three
dishes of collared veal, and a round of beef.

"_Removes_--Ten haunches of venison, ten necks of venison.

"_Sweets_--Thirty salvers of whips and jellies, twenty moulds of
jelly, forty moulds of blanc mange, tarts, cheese cakes, mince pies,
puffs, &c., &c."

The guests must have needed appetites such as were possessed by the
gentlemen chronicled in the two following paragraphs. Sept. 9, 1812:
"On Wednesday last, two gentlemen, in the neighbourhood of Ratcliffe
Highway, had a wager of £5 upon a man named _Leurnen_, a coal-heaver,
that he should devour, in the space of three-quarters of an hour,
nine pounds of bullock's heart roasted, three pounds of potatoes,
half a quartern loaf, and drink a pot of porter. The parties met
at the Queen's Head public-house, Broad Street, Ratcliffe Highway,
and the spectators, of whom there were a considerable number, paid
sixpence each to be admitted. He completed his task, and drank three
or four glasses of rum besides, within the time allowed him, without
producing the smallest apparent inconvenience."

Aug. 2, 1816: "Yesterday morning a young man, of the name of Robert
Hunt, better known by the name of _Rob-the-Grinder_, he being a
knifegrinder by trade, undertook, for a wager, to eat three quarts
of peas, three pounds of fat bacon, half a quartern loaf of bread,
and drink two quarts of porter, and a pint of gin in the space of one
hour. He sat down to his meal at eleven o'clock in the forenoon, and
he devoured the whole in fifty-two minutes, with seeming ease saying
it was only a good lunch, as his appetite would serve to a good
dinner by two o'clock."

But there was luxury in eating, as well as gross feeding. Green
peas sometimes fetched several guineas a quart--the following is
very mild. May 22, 1811: "This is the earliest season known for
many years. In Covent Garden Market, green peas were sold at eight
shillings per quart on Saturday last, and moss roses which had blown
in the open air at one shilling each."

And, being connoisseurs, those old gentlemen knew good wine,
and would pay a long price for it. At the sale of the Duke of
Queensberry's effects, in 1811, some Tokay fetched £84 a dozen
quarts, or £7 a bottle! The prices fetched at the sale of the Duke of
Cumberland's wine pale into insignificance before this, but then he
had no Tokay for sale.

Champagne 11 to 12 guineas the dozen
Hock about 11 " "
Hermitage " 14 " "
Madeira " 7 " "
Claret " 7 " "
Port from £4 10s. to £5 5s. "

A sale is chronicled May 13, 1817: "Friday, the cellars of Alexander
Davison, Esq., were emptied to the best bidders. The prices, at which
the several lots were knocked down, were unusually high. Three dozen
of red Madeira, bottled in 1801, were knocked down at _eighteen_
guineas per dozen, it was supposed, for a distinguished member of the
Royal Family. One lot of Hock, a hundred and seventeen years old,
sold at ten guineas per dozen, and very little of the Sherry went at
less than five and six guineas per dozen."

The middle classes could not, of course, afford these wines, but they
drank sound Port, Sherry, and Madeira, brown Brandy and Gin--Whiskey
was almost unknown. But for conviviality, Punch, in bowls, was
the drink. Green tea was introduced into the manufacture of Rum
Punch--and may be now, for aught I know, if there is anybody living
who knows how to make it--but here is a metrical recipe for Milk
Punch, of the year 1815, which reads remarkably well.

"Take seven large lemons, and pare them as thin
As a wafer, or, what is yet thinner, your skin;
A quart of French Brandy, or Rum is still better,
(For you ne'er, in Receipts, should stick to the letter.)
Six ounces of sugar next take, and pray mind,
The sugar must be the best double refin'd;
Boil the sugar in as near half a pint of spring water,
In the neat silver saucepan you bought for your daughter;
But be sure that the syrup you carefully skim,
When the scum, as 'tis call'd, rises up to the brim.
The fourth part of a pint you next must allow
Of New Milk, made as warm as it comes from the Cow.
Put the rinds of the lemons, the milk, and the syrup,
With the rum in a jar and give them a stir up:
And, if you approve it, you may put some perfume,
Goatstone, or whatever you like in its room.
Let it stand thus three days, but remember to shake it,
And the closer you stop it the richer you make it.
Then, filtered through paper, 'twill sparkle and rise,
Be as soft as your lips, and as bright as your eyes.
Last bottle it up...."

It seems wrong to chronicle good living when bread was so
dear--especially in the early years of the Regency where receipts for
rice bread, and cheap adulterants of wheaten bread, were pressed upon
the notice of the middle classes. One article of food they had which
we should like at the same price--the very finest Native Oysters at
9s. and 10s. a barrel.

* * * * *

It was a brilliant period for the Stage. Kean was to make his
appearance on the boards, but then Mrs. Siddons and Kemble retired.
Death, too, was busy with some old dramatic favourites, and people
connected with the Stage. In these nine years were called away--R.
Cumberland, W. T. Lewis, Malone, G. F. Cooke, Chas. Dibbin, Chas.
Burney, Mrs. Abingdon, H. Siddons, Mrs. Jordan, Sheridan, Signora
Storace, and Miss Pope.

In 1811 there were but three regular theatres in London--Drury Lane,
Covent Garden, and "The Little Theatre" in the Haymarket--and they
all did a good business, although the prices charged their audiences
were very moderate, so were the salaries of the actors. The pit
was all pit, and the pittites were a discriminating audience, who
were neither ashamed nor afraid to applaud, or censure, as their
judgment led them. The plays were frequently changed. There were no
runs of hundreds of nights, and the consequence was that the actor,
"playing many parts," could not acquire mannerism, and gained greater
experience in his profession.

In 1811 there were two persons, amateurs, who mightily affected
theatrical company, namely, the Baron Geramb and Romeo Coates. The
Baron was principally known for his enormously long whiskers--so
feelingly alluded to by the Regent (vol. ii. p. 85), and there is a
very good account of him in _The Annual Register_, April 6, 1812:--

"The much talked of Baron Geramb, who has, for a year or two past,
made so conspicuous a figure in this metropolis, is, at last, ordered
out of the country. This singular person ushered himself into public
notice by publishing a most inflated and ridiculous letter, which
he dedicated to the Earl of Moira; in which he described himself
as a Hungarian baron who had headed a corps of volunteers in the
cause of Austria against France, and stated that, after the peace,
he went to Spain to give the benefit of his courage and profound
military experience to the oppressed patriots of the Peninsula.
He accompanied this production with every other mode of obtaining
notoriety, such as filling print-shop windows with three or four
different engravings of his person, which few fools bought, in
various costumes; a star, a death's head and cross-bones, and other
terrific emblems, adorned the person of the baron. Nobody has
walked the public streets for some time past who does not know this
redoubtable nobleman.

"Wherever notoriety could be acquired, there was the Baron Geramb.
At the funeral of the late Duke of Albuquerque he exhibited himself
in all the parade of grief, in a jet black uniform. Where money
alone could not gain admittance, the magnificent exterior of this
seeming magnate of Hungary was sure of procuring an introduction.
At the Opera, at the Theatres, and the Park, his furred mantle and
resplendent stars were seldom missed. When that wonderful master of
histrionic art, Mr. Coates, played, or rather attempted to play,
Lothario, last winter, at the Haymarket, the Hungarian baron sat with
indescribable dignity in the stage box, and appeared the patron of
the absurdities of the night, consoling the white-plumed Lothario
with his nods, and bows, and cheers, for all the coarse and severe,
but justly merited, raillery which was unsparingly dealt out to him
from the pit and galleries.

"But the baron was formed to embellish a Court as well as to dignify
a playhouse. He was frequent in his inquiries after the health of
the British Sovereign at St. James's; and appeared with more than
usual splendour at the celebrated _fête_ of the Prince Regent at
Carlton House. The fascinations of that scene of courtly festivity
and princely elegance became the subject of the Baron's pen; and he
accordingly published a letter to 'Sophie' describing, in the most
romantic language, all the splendid objects of the night.... The
baron, it is reported, has had uncommon success in certain gaming
houses. He is now at Harwich, on his way to the Continent. He is said
to be a German Jew, who, having married the widow of a Hungarian
baron, assumed the title by which he passed."

Robert Coates, generally known as Romeo, was the son of a merchant
and sugar planter at Antigua; he was educated in England, and then
returned to his father. At his death, in 1807, young Coates came back
to England not only very wealthy, but with a large collection of
splendid diamonds. He settled at Bath, which town he soon made lively
by his vagaries. He drove about, drawn by white horses, his curricle
being shaped like a kettledrum, in front of which was a large gilt
cock, and its motto was, "While I live I'll crow." He developed a
curious craze for theatricals, and on the 9th of February, 1810, he
appeared at the Bath Theatre as Romeo. Let Capt. Gronow tell the
story of that night:--

"His dress was _outré_ in the extreme; whether Spanish, Italian, or
English, no one could say; it was like nothing ever worn. In a cloak
of sky blue silk, profusely spangled, red pantaloons, a vest of white
muslin, surmounted by an enormously thick cravat, and a wig _à la_
Charles II., capped by an Opera hat, he presented one of the most
grotesque spectacles ever witnessed upon the stage. The whole of his
garments were evidently too tight for him; and his movements appeared
so incongruous that every time he raised his arm, or moved a limb, it
was impossible to refrain from laughter.

"But what chiefly convulsed the audience, was the bursting of a seam
in an inexpressible part of his dress, and the sudden extrusion
through the red rents, of a quantity of white linen, sufficient to
make a Bourbon flag, which was visible whenever he turned round. This
was at first supposed to be a wilful offence against common decency,
and some disapprobation was evinced; but the utter unconsciousness
of the odd creature was soon apparent, and then unrestrained mirth
reigned throughout the boxes, pit, and gallery....

"In the midst of one of Juliet's impassioned exclamations, Romeo
quietly took out his snuff-box, and applied a pinch to his nose;
on this a wag in the gallery bawled out, 'I say, Romeo, give us a
pinch,' when the impassioned lover, in the most affected manner,
walked to the side boxes, and offered the contents of his box, first
to the gentleman, and then, with great gallantry, to the ladies....

"But how shall I describe his death? Out came a dirty silk
handkerchief from his pocket, with which he carefully swept the
ground; then his Opera hat was carefully placed for a pillow, and
down he laid himself. After various tossings about, he seemed
reconciled to the position; but the house vociferously bawled out,
'Die again, Romeo!' and, obedient to the command, he rose up, and
went through the ceremony again. Scarcely had he lain quietly down
when the call was again heard, and the well-pleased amateur was
evidently prepared to enact a third death; but Juliet now rose from
her tomb, and gracefully put an end to this ludicrous scene by
advancing to the front of the stage and aptly applying a quotation
from Shakespeare--

'Dying is such sweet sorrow,
That he will die again to-morrow.'"

He came before a London audience, and played Lothario at the
Haymarket on the 9th of December, 1811, and I give an illustration
of him in that character. He ran through all his money, and had to
go to Boulogne: there he married, came over to England, and lived in
Montague Square. He met with an accident, and died, aged seventy-six,
in 1848.

[Illustration: Lothario, as Performed by Mr. Coates at the Haymarket
Theatre, December 9, 1811.]

On the 29th of June, 1812, Mrs. Siddons took her leave of the public.
The scene was Covent Garden Theatre, and the play "Macbeth," in
which, of course, she played Lady Macbeth. After the sleep scene, she
came forward and recited a farewell address written for her by Horace
Twiss. She then retired amid a storm of applause. Kemble afterwards
came forward to ask the sense of the house whether they would hear
the remainder of the play, but the universal consensus was that they
_could_ not, and the audience retired.

On the 30th of September the new Drury Lane Theatre was ready
for opening. The building cost £112,000; the fittings, £13,000;
wardrobes, scenery, &c., £25,000; in all, £150,000. It was honoured
next day with a visit from the Queen, the Princesses Augusta and
Mary, the Princess Charlotte of Wales, the Prince Regent, and the
Dukes of Sussex, Kent, and Clarence. On this occasion the theatre was
darkened, and the interior brilliantly lit up, in order to show it
at its best to its distinguished visitors. Elliston opened it on the
10th of October with "Hamlet."

In November Betty, better known as the "young Roscius," reappeared on
the Stage at Covent Garden. But his boyhood's charm was broken, and,
as a man (he was 22) he was a failure as an actor.

In 1813 Miss Stevens made her _début_, and so did Kean, at Drury
Lane on January 26, 1814, and by his acting Shylock took the town by
storm. "For voice, eye, action, and expression, no actor has come out
at all equal to him. The applause, from the first scene to the last,
was general, loud, and uninterrupted." Next month he appeared as
Richard III., and, if possible, his acting was more belauded. People,
including Coutts the banker, sent him cheques, one for £50, and the
Managers of Drury Lane increased his salary.

The first mention I can find of Miss O'Neil, is March 24, 1812: "A
Miss O'Neille, of whom report speaks very highly, at the Dublin
Theatre, is engaged for Covent Garden Theatre the next season. She is
said to be a good actress, a very great beauty, and a Roman Catholic,
so there is something for all tastes."

August 18, 1815: "Among the improvements making at Covent Garden
Theatre, preparatory to opening for the ensuing season, backs are
fixing to the seats in the pit, so that each person will sit at ease
as in a chair."

September 1, 1815: "The Managers of the Winter Theatres have
already, it seems, received no less than _Ninety-seven_ Tragedies,
Comedies, Operas, Farces, Melodramas, and Pantomimes, intended by the
_Authors_, for representation, during the ensuing season."

We sometimes see very realistic effects produced on the Stage, but
we have not yet arrived at this pitch. August 30, 1815: "A strolling
company of Comedians in the County of York, in performing the tragedy
of 'George Barnwell,' advertised that 'Milwood would be hanged upon
the Stage'; and, in consequence, the curtain dropped on a figure
of Milwood suspended from a gibbet, to the great entertainment of
the audience assembled." By the way, every theatre at these times,
invariably played "George Barnwell" on Boxing Night, a practice which
has not so very long been discontinued at some of the minor London
Theatres.

Charles Bannister, who had been before the public upwards of thirty
years, took his leave of them, June 1, 1815.

On February 17, 1816, the audience at Drury Lane were startled by a
pistol shot. A farce called the "Merry Mourners" was being played,
a young man in the third row of the pit produced a pistol, and
deliberately shot at Miss Kelly--luckily without hurting her. He was,
of course, at once captured and locked up. He had been pestering her
with his addresses.

Mrs. Jordan, wife of William IV., died July 5, 1816. She had been
acting this year, but had grown stout, and had lost much of her
vivacity. Here is the last record of her. July 13, 1816: "Our
correspondent from Paris informs us that Mrs. Jordan was buried in
the cemetery of St. Cloud. She had resided in the village for some
time with great privacy, under the name of Mrs. James. She was buried
in a thin shell, stained black, but uncovered with cloth or ornament
of any kind. Mr. Thomas Greatorex, an hotel-keeper in Paris, and Mr.
William Henshall, statuary, of Mortimer Street, Cavendish Square,
were by accident passing, and saw her interred. They were the only
Englishmen present." This account was afterwards confirmed in the
same newspaper, date the 22nd of July. Such was her sad fate, after
having borne the Duke of Clarence ten children, of whom those that
survived came to great honour on his accession to the throne.

How different was Sheridan's funeral on the 15th of the same month!
His mortal remains were interred in Poets' Corner, Westminster Abbey,
with all honour, the pall-bearers being the Duke of Bedford, Earls
Mulgrave and Lauderdale, Lords Holland and Robert Spencer, and the
Bishop of London. The Dukes of York and Sussex, the Duke of Argyle,
the Marquess of Anglesea, and many other noblemen, all followed to do
honour to his corpse.

The Lyceum Theatre, which had sheltered the Drury Lane Company after
that theatre was burnt down, was again opened on the 15th of June for
English Opera.

The following anecdote will show how sometimes the audience
thoroughly enter into the play. August 13, 1816: "Mrs. Mardyn and
Mr. Oxberry have been performing at the Windsor Theatre. Oxberry, as
the Jew, instead of taking the pound of flesh from the Merchant, by
accident cut off the top of his own _finger_ in placing the knife
in his belt. This, however, did not prevent him from finishing the
scene, although his blood dyed that part of the stage he occupied.
When Portia requests Shylock '_To have some surgeon lest Antonio
do bleed to death_,' a man in the pit, thinking she alluded to the
accident, exclaimed, 'Here, mate, take my handkerchief, and I'll go
for the Doctor.'"

Kemble took his farewell of the stage on June 23, 1817, playing
Coriolanus at Covent Garden. He spoke a short valedictory address,
and of course was rapturously cheered. As he hurried off the stage,
a gentleman in the pit handed Talma, the celebrated French actor,
who was in the orchestra, a white satin scarf, embroidered with a
laurel wreath, begging that he would throw it on the stage, which he
did. The manager was called for, and came, went through the farce
of asking whether it was intended for Mr. Kemble, and assured the
audience that he would give it to the great tragedian "with heartfelt
gratification."

Clowns are not responsible beings, at least on the stage, or,
according to the following anecdote, off it. July 2, 1818: "Usher,
the Clown of the Coburg Theatre (opened on the 9th of May), in
consequence of a wager, set off in a machine like a washing-tub,
drawn by four geese, at half-past twelve o'clock, from below
Southwark Bridge, and passed under four bridges, and arrived at
half-past two at Cumberland Gardens. A pole extended from the machine
in which he sat, to which the geese were harnessed. For some time
they were quite tractable, and he went on swimmingly, but, at times,
they were quite restive, and not easily managed. A great number of
persons accompanied him in boats, and several viewed the whimsical
expedition from the bridges. After completing it he offered, for a
wager of one hundred guineas, to return thence through the centre
arch of London Bridge; but no person would accept the challenge." A
Clown named Barry did the same about thirty-five or forty years ago,
I think.

Clowns did not dress then as they do now, as we see in the
illustration of a Clown and a Grasshopper in the pantomime of "Jack
and Jill," performed at the Lyceum in 1812.

[Illustration: A Clown and a Grasshopper.]

CHAPTER XVI.

The Italian Opera flourished. Madame Catalani, undeterred by her
reception by the public, at the time of the O. P. Riots, was prima
donna; for Mrs. Billington retired from the stage in May, 1811.

There was a pretty little riot on 2nd of May, 1813, at the Opera at
the King's Theatre.

"We are indebted to a correspondent for the following particulars of
what, we are told, for we were not present, was, in its progress, one
of the most disgraceful scenes that the walls of that, or any other
Theatre, ever witnessed.

"Much disapprobation had prevailed throughout the performance of
the Opera on Saturday night, and, at its conclusion, cries for the
Manager, and Catalani, resounded throughout the house. The Ballet
was, however, suffered to commence, but had not proceeded many
minutes, when, from behind the scenes--'a band of fierce barbarians
rushed upon the stage; the dancers flying for safety and for
succour.' The drop-scene in vain descended, for an irruption was
made through the body of it, and, on its being drawn up, there was
discovered a motley group of men and women, the latter shrieking and
the former shouting, and most destructively active in the demolition
of all that came within reach of their canes.

"Mr. Masterson, Secretary to the Theatre, made his appearance, to the
interruption of the pleasing interchange of shouts, which alternately
rang out from the audience before the stage, and the company of new
performers upon it. The Secretary bowed, and silence ensued--when
a gentleman, from the front of the pit, and not long from Ireland,
made a speech on the occasion demanding the Manager. The Secretary
expressed himself ready to convey their pleasure to Mr. Taylor,
but said he, himself, was unauthorised to answer any questions.
Catalani's name was immediately vociferated in one quarter, that of
Angiolini in another; and, in a third, a rise of salary was demanded
for them as well as Tramezzani; but the sums were so large, being
£10,000 for one, £5,000 for another, that, whether intended, or not,
it had the effect of changing the tone of this clamour, and the
Secretary was not honoured with any further commands.

"The audience appeared now to be satisfied; no further noise was
heard, and the multitude on the stage were beginning to disperse,
when, unfortunately, an order for the soldiers to clear the stage
as usual, produced a most alarming scene. Three or four soldiers,
and a sergeant, were most manfully assailed, and disarmed by the
disappointed lovers of music and Catalani. The firelocks were brought
as trophies to the front of the stage, and precipitated into the
Orchestra. The pit, which contained the sober and orderly part, only,
of its former contents, gave strong signs of disgust, which were
received and returned by one of the disarming heroes in a manner
only to be described as the utmost stretch of _blackguardism_. Our
Correspondent says that he dares not describe the impudent species of
insult which he offered to the spectators.

"The officer of the guard, the moment that he saw the unbecoming
attack made on his small party, hurried to the spot, with the avowed
intention of drawing them off; but the moment he appeared, he also
was hustled, his sword violently seized, and his person insulted,
until Major Mellish came forward, and assured the house that his
friend Lieutenant White, had only presented himself to call off
his party from the scene. The vengeance of the whole house was now
directed against the man who had acted in so brutal a manner in face
of the Ladies assembled in the Boxes. He was collared, dragged to
the front of the stage, tweaked by the nose, and called on, after
many other ingenious indignities, to make an apology to the house.
But he was most stubborn, and fought about him; till, at last, it
was discovered that he was too inebriated for utterance. This was
satisfactorily explained to the audience by a gentleman near him.

Peace would have been now restored, but Mr. Coates--the at all Mr.
Coates--made his appearance, and insisted on making a speech. He
was almost equally impetuous, but he also was manoeuvred off the
stage. Much mischief was done, both to the musical instruments in
the Orchestra, and to the scenery. It was most providential that a
scene of bloodshed had not been the result; for the detachment of
Guards in the street, hearing that their comrades had been assailed,
and their officer insulted, rushed into the Theatre, and it was by a
miracle that they were stopped from making their way to the stage. In
fact, the practice of employing soldiers to clear the stage is most
unbecoming. It puts the troops in a most embarrassing position, and
is sure to raise the indignation of the spectators. It was intimated,
we hear, that, in consequence of the dreadful scene of Saturday
night, the Lord Chamberlain has issued an order, that no person shall
be admitted behind the scenes, under the penalty of withdrawing the
License from the Theatre."

The managers of Theatres used to make large sums by allowing people
behind the scenes, and it was said that the Lord Chamberlain's
prohibition meant a loss of £3,000 a year to the Opera. I cannot,
exactly, trace the cause of this riot. I know that Catalani broke
her engagement, and can only suppose that it was something about
Money, for she was as greedy as a certain modern Prima Donna. She
had already received £1,275 for ten weeks, and would be paid at the
same rate for the remaining twenty weeks of her engagement. Take a
newspaper paragraph, 25th of March, 1814: "Madam Catalani has been
offered two thousand guineas, and a free benefit, for thirty nights'
performance at the Opera, which offer she has declined, asking three
thousand." So she did not sing that year.

Here is another little story. May 23, 1814: "Dr. Busby intends giving
two Concerts at the Opera House. The Doctor consulted Mr. Braham in
the first instance, requesting his advice what vocal performers he
should engage. Mr. Braham immediately recommended Catalani, Dickons,
Salmon, &c., &c. The Doctor, in consequence, waited on Monsieur
Vallabrique, and begged to know Madame Catalani's terms. The answer
was, 500 guineas each day; or half the gross receipts; and Monsieur
said, if the Doctor would agree to the latter proposal, that he,
himself, would engage the singers at a great expense, and pay them
liberally out of his own portion. 'Well,' says the Doctor, 'what
would you offer them?' 'Why,' says Monsieur, 'my wife 500 guineas
each morning; Mrs. Dickons ten guineas each morning; Mrs. Salmon
ditto, and Mr. Braham'---- 'Stop!' says the Doctor, 'I have already
engaged that gentleman. He is to have thirty guineas each morning; or
if----' 'Ha! ha!' interrupted the astonished Frenchman, with a long
tragic groan. '_Thirty_ guineas every morning? He is a Jew!!!' On
which the Doctor made his bow and engaged Grassini."

People were very fond of music, and there were plenty of good
Concerts, and singers, with oratorios for the more seriously
disposed. Did you object to the heat of a Concert room, you could
have a very good vocal music, with an excellent band, _al fresco_,
at Vauxhall, with the very best of company to rub shoulders against.
Take, for instance, only one day--and from my notes I could give
many--July 12, 1819: "VAUXHALL. A more brilliant scene has scarcely
ever presented itself than that which these gardens exhibited on
Friday evening last. The walks were thronged with company of the
first description, among whom we noticed the Duke of Argyle, the
Duchess of Richmond, Bedford, and Rutland; the Marquess of Worcester,
the Marquess and Marchioness of Tavistock; their Excellencies the
French and Spanish Ambassadors, Viscount and Lady Castlereagh; Lords
George Cavendish, Petersham, Foley, Clare, Grantham, Harrington,
Forbes, Clifford, and Kier; Ladies Brownlow, Warburton, and Otway;
Sir Harry Hotham, Sir William Elliot, and Mr. Holme Sumner, M.P."

Of course there was the usual musical prodigy, no age could do
without that, and here it is, 10th of September, 1814: "_The Plymouth
Chronicle_ of Tuesday last (September 6th) contains the following
singular statement, respecting a boy, living in Plymouth, only
_eleven years and a half old_. Of Master _Whitcomb_, for such is the
name of this prodigy, it is asserted that 'unassisted in musical
composition, this child has produced to the musical world several
pieces in _score_, dedicated, by permission, to the inimitable
Catalani'; but what we chiefly allude to, is, a challenge he received
a few days since, viz., to compose a _full orchestra_, musical parts
to accord in harmony with a given bass!! Thus taken by surprise,
he accepted the challenge, and was locked up in a room, with only
pen, ink, and paper, the given bass was produced, and, without any
assistance, this child of nature produced, in about an hour, a
complete musical score, viz., two violin parts, two flute parts, two
horn parts, a tenor part, and oboe part!"

* * * * *

From Music to Art is but a short, and legitimate transition, and that
period was no mean one in the history of Art, which could produce
such a list of names as the following, which does not pretend to be
exhaustive: Sir George Beaumont, Sir William Beechey, R.A., Henry
Bone, R.A., the celebrated enameller, A. W. Callcott, R.A., A. W.
Chalon, R.A., R. Cosway, R.A., I. Constable, P. de Wint, W. Etty,
W. Finden, the engraver, Henry Fuseli, R.A., G. Hayter, W. Hilton,
R.A., E. Landseer, Sir Thomas Lawrence, R.A., C. R. Leslie, J.
Linnell, P. I. de Loutherbourg, R.A., W. Mulready, R.A., P. Nasmyth,
J. Northcote, R.A., H. W. Pickersgill, W. H. Pyne, P. Reinagle, R.A.,
H. Raeburn, R.A., R. R. Ramsay, A.R.A., M. A. Shee, R.A., H. Sass, T.
Stothard, R.A., J. M. W. Turner, R.A., W. Varley, C. H. Weigall, B.
West, R.A., D. Wilkie, R.A. and W. Wyon the medallist.

Then among Sculptors were some glorious names--W. Behnes, F.
Chantrey, R.A., J. Flaxman, R.A., J. Nollekens, R.A., W. Theed, P.
Turnerelli, and R. Westmacott, R.A.

There were, besides the Exhibition of Pictures of the Royal Academy,
which was held at Somerset House, or Somerset Place, as it was then
called, two Water Colour Exhibitions--"The Society of Painters in
Water Colours," and the "Associated Painters in Water Colours." And,
occasionally, there were, as now, collections of the works of some
one artist to be seen, as, for instance, in March, 1811, West's
pictures were shown; in May, 1812, Wilkie's pictures were exhibited;
and in May, 1813, a collection of Sir Joshua Reynolds' works was
made, and there was a supplementary exhibition for the sale of
pictures, called "the European Museum."

There was a craze for large Panoramas, and they generally followed
the progress of the war: thus in 1811 we find them of Malta, of
Cadiz, the Siege of Flushing, and a Panorama of Messina. In 1812 we
have one of Lisbon, and in 1815 we are treated to a view of Elba.

Miss Linwood ought to rank as an artist, and her exhibition of
Needlework was most popular, as may be judged by the fact that it
was on show at Saville House, Leicester Square, from 1800 till 1844,
when she died. It then filled up the place in public amusement now
occupied by Madame Tussaud's Exhibition. (By the way, Mrs. Salmon was
the wax-work woman of those days.)

Miss Linwood's work, although done with coloured wools, was as like
that awful Berlin wool-work of our day, as a picture by the President
of the Royal Academy would resemble a coloured wall-poster. They
were large and most faithful copies of some of the finest specimens
of art, both British and foreign. The South Kensington Museum
possesses some of them, notably a portrait of Napoleon. For one of
her pictures, the _Salvator Mundi_, after _Carlo Dolci_, she refused
three thousand guineas, and at her death left it as a legacy to the
Queen; but, when her collection was sold, it fetched very little,
somewhere about £1,000.

There was very little done in public statuary at this time, but the
monument to the memory of Nelson, in the Guildhall, was uncovered on
April 27, 1811 (Sheridan composed the inscription); and on March 27,
1813, that to Pitt, in the same building, was inaugurated, Canning
being responsible for the inscription.

In literature we have a strong list of names, but in the one I give
I do not pretend that it includes every one laying claim to literary
merit, but it is merely a representative catalogue:--Joanna Baillie,
Mrs. Barbauld, Robert Bloomfield, Lord Byron, Thomas Campbell,
Thomas Carlyle, G. Chalmers, S. T. Coleridge, George Crabbe, Alan
Cunningham, Madame D'Arblay, Isaac D'Israeli, Sir Philip Francis,
William Godwin, George Grote, Henry Hallam, William Hazlitt, Mrs.
Hemans, James Hogg, Thomas Hood, Theodore Hooke, Leigh Hunt, Mrs.
Inchbald, Mrs. Jameson, J. Keats, Charles Lamb, W. S. Landor, J.
Lemprière, M. G. (or Monk) Lewis, Lord Lytton, Edward Malone, Miss
Mitford, James Montgomery, Hannah Moore, Thomas Moore, Lady Morgan,
Lindley Murray, Mrs. Norton, Mrs. Opie, Jane Porter, Anne Radcliffe,
Samuel Rogers, Sir Walter Scott, R. B. Sheridan, Percy Bysshe
Shelley, John and Horace Smith, Robert Southey, J. Horne Tooke, Henry
Kirke White, William Wordsworth.

Death claimed, during these nine years, some of the older
_littérateurs_, as the Right Rev. Thomas Percy, D.D., Bishop of
Dromore, whose "Reliques of Antient English Poetry" is well known.
He died Sept. 30, 1811. On March 18, 1812, died John Horne Tooke,
who will always be remembered by "The Diversions of Purley." John
Philpot Curran, the celebrated Irish lawyer and orator, died at
Brompton, October 14, 1817; and Samuel Lysons, the eminent Antiquary,
who was Keeper of the Records when they were in the Tower of London,
whose "Environs of London" is still a standard book of reference,
expired June 29, 1819. On August 25th of the same year, died James
Watt, whose name is so well known in connection with the steam engine.

It was a dilletante age for books. It was the first wake up after
a long, long sleep. Men were only just beginning to understand
the value of the treasures they possessed, and the mysteries of
first editions, tall copies, &c., were just coming to light. Old
libraries were searched, and their secrets were exposed. I think they
over-valued their old books; as a proof, they do not fetch so much
now. For instance, take the "Valdarfer Boccaccio," printed in 1471.
This book was in the library of the Duke of Roxburghe, and at the
sale thereof fetched, on June 17, 1812, the enormous sum of £2,260.
It was purchased by the Marquis of Blandford. He afterwards sold it,
on June 16, 1819, to Messrs. Longman and Co., at the reduced price of
£875, and on December 7, 1881, Mr. Quaritch bought it for £585. At
the same sale the Duke of Devonshire bought a Caxton, "The Recuyell
of the historyes of Troye," for £1,060. People other than those
infatuated called it bibliomania, and so I think it was.

The foundation of the celebrated Roxburghe Club took place on that
_dies mirabilis_, the 17th of June, when the number was limited to
twenty-four, and they dined annually afterwards, the great toast of
the evening being always, "The memory of the immortal Valdarfer."

Here is a curious Advertisement, May 11, 1814: "A SHABBY OLD
MANUSCRIPT, to be seen at No. 15, Noel Street, Berwick Street,
Soho, is, perhaps, one of the greatest Curiosities now existing;
not so much for its Antiquity, though conjectured to be of the 13th
or 14th Century, for it has no date, or any striking peculiarity
either in the Character or spelling, as on account of the subject,
and the extraordinary nature of its contents. The Proprietor of
this singularly curious and interesting document, a gentleman of
high literary attainments, would, under certain limitations and
restrictions, dispose of a Correct COPY for 200 guineas. Mere
curiosity may, however, be gratified with a sight of the original,
and of the heads of its principal contents, for a One Pound Bank of
England Note, or twenty shillings good and current money."

In Science great strides were being made; they were emerging from
the slough of ignorance, and treading the right path at last;
and, although they cannot boast either of the scientists, or the
discoveries, of the Victorian era, yet an age that could produce a
Humphrey Davy and a David Brewster brought forth two famous men.

About this time there was a wonderful boy, who, since, developed
into a good Civil Engineer. The earliest notice I can find of him is
in a Newspaper of March 4, 1814. "There is now at Moretonhamstead,
Devonshire, a boy only seven and a half years old, of a most
astonishing genius; indeed, as a Calculator, quite a prodigy. A
gentleman asked him how many eyes and toes six score of bullocks had,
and how many minutes in a year, each of which questions he answered
with the same ease and quickness. Another person put many difficult
questions to him in arithmetic, to the whole of which he immediately
replied correctly. The boy cannot account how he does it, and, till
within a few weeks, did not know a figure. His name is Bidder, and
his father is a mason at the above place."

We hear of him again in October, 1819. "A singular phenomenon
appeared in the metropolis this month, a boy of the name of George
Bidder, solved the most difficult questions in arithmetic by mental
calculation, in less time than could be accomplished by the most
skilful by the ordinary operation; and what was more remarkable he
did not work by common arithmetical rules, but by a process entirely
his own."

Among the musical composers who were then living may be named Sir
Henry R. Bishop, Dr. Calcott, Muzio Clementi, Dr. Crotch, Charles
Dibdin, Thomas Greatorex, Thomas Kelly, Vincent Novello, John Parry,
Cipriani Potter, and Samuel Wesley.

Medical Science had emerged from the empiricism in which it had so
long been shrouded: and to this era belong some great names, both in
Medicine and Surgery. Still, the Pharmacopoeia was a great deal too
redundant, and the family doctor was pompous, and not too learned.
Doctors and Clergymen still stuck to their wigs--Barristers and
Judges still do to theirs--and he could not be worth his salt as a
physician, unless he carried a gold-headed cane, often with a round
ball a-top, which was a relic of the time when it contained some
aromatic mixture, which he smelt, in order to guard himself against
contagion.

Among eminent medical men and surgeons of those days, first in
alphabetical order is that clever old bear, John Abernethy, whose
brusque sayings have been so often quoted. Joseph Constantine Carpue,
who distinguished himself by making false flesh noses, which he
covered with skin let down from the forehead. Sir Richard Croft,
who attended the Princess Charlotte in her confinement, and whose
death so preyed upon his mind that, about three months afterwards,
he committed suicide by shooting himself. Sir Henry Halford, who
was physician in ordinary to George IV., and whom we have seen, in
conjunction with that illustrious monarch, examining the bodies of
Henry VIII. and Charles I.; and Dr. Jenner, whose connection with
Vaccination every one knows.

[Illustration: A Physician.]

[Illustration:

"I shall endeavour in a short, but eloquent, discourse, to
remove the vulgar prejudices imbibed by a narrow education."]

[Illustration:

"With all the diffidence natural to my situation, I shall, for
the first time, venture to address this polite and discerning
audience."]

In the Church of England there were no particular luminaries.
No doubt every Clergyman, from a Curate to an Archbishop, worked
sincerely, according to their lights; but there was not the zeal,
hard work, and self-abnegation which are now the characteristics of
our Anglican Clergy. Nor of them only; all sects are striving hard
to win souls, and it would be invidious, in this matter, to make a
distinction. I give an illustration of two opposite characters, the
dear, suave old Bishop, and the Charles Honeyman of the period, of
the diamond ring and pocket-handkerchief religion. Says the Bishop,
"I shall endeavour, in a short, but elegant discourse, to remove the
vulgar prejudices imbibed by a narrow education." The other commences
his sermon thus: "With all the diffidence natural to my situation,
I shall, for the first time venture to address this polite and
discerning audience."

In matters religious, men had not the breadth of thought which we,
now, happily possess. For instance, on May 5, 1813, was introduced
into the House of Commons a Bill, which, afterwards, became law,
"For the further relief of persons impugning the doctrine of the
Trinity." The Acts of 9 and 10 William III. had not been repealed,
and by them, persons who, in writing or in conversation, denied the
existence of any of the persons of the Trinity, were disabled, in
law, from holding any office, civil, ecclesiastical, or military, on
conviction; and, if a second time convicted, they were disabled to
sue or prosecute in any action or information, or to be the guardian
of any child, and liable to be imprisoned for three years.

This may appear extremely intolerant, but it must be borne in mind
that, well within every one's memory, an atheist, avowing himself to
be such, could not give testimony in a Court of Justice, nor sit in
the House of Commons. Tardily, _nous avons changé tout cela_.

The Roman Catholics, too, felt the yoke that galled them, and made
strenuous efforts to obtain its removal. On April 30, 1813, Mr.
Grattan presented to the House of Commons his Bill "to provide for
the removal of the Civil and Military Disqualifications, under which
his Majesty's Roman Catholic Subjects now labour." At that time a
Roman Catholic had no vote for Members of Parliament, nor could he
sit in the House, and he could not hold any office, either civil or
military.

On May 24th, the House of Commons having resolved itself into a
Committee on Mr. Grattan's Bill, the Speaker protested against the
admittance of Roman Catholics into Parliament, the Privy Council, and
the Judicial Bench; and concluded with moving that the words, "to
sit and vote in either House of Parliament," in the first clause, be
left out of the Bill. After a long debate, a division took place, the
voting being, for the clause 247, against it 251, so that was lost
only by the small majority of four. Mr. Ponsonby then said that, as
the Bill, without this clause, was neither worthy of the Catholics,
nor of the further support of the friends of concession, he would
move that the Chairman do now leave the Chair, which was carried
without a division, and thus the Bill was lost.

The Catholic Emancipation Bill did not receive the Royal Assent until
April 13, 1829. Cardinal Wiseman was made Archbishop of Westminster,
September 30, 1850. Roman Catholic Chaplains were permitted in gaols
July, 1863. The first Roman Catholic Judge that sat on the Bench
since the Reformation, was Sergeant Shee, who was made a justice of
the Queen's Bench, December, 1863. We have even had a Roman Catholic
Lord Mayor, Sir Polydore de Keyser; and on November 3, 1884, Lord
Petre, a Roman Catholic priest, took his seat in the House of Lords,
so that justice seems to have been done at last.

Of the strength of the Nonconformists we gather something in the
following, August 28, 1815: "At the annual conference of the
_Wesleyan_ Methodists, held at Manchester, it appears that the number
of persons in the Connection amounted to nearly _One hundred and
ninety thousand_."

On December 29, 1814, died a remarkable religious impostor, one
Joanna Southcott, who was born, of humble parents, in Devonshire,
somewhere about 1750. In the year 1790, she was employed as a
work-woman at an upholsterer's shop in Exeter. The shopkeeper being a
Methodist, his shop was frequently visited by Ministers of the same
persuasion, and Joanna, possessing what is termed "a serious turn of
mind," did not pass unnoticed. She had frequent discussions in the
shop with these Ministers, and was regarded as a prodigy. Indeed, so
sensible was she of her own importance and superiority, that, with
the aid of a few dreams, and some extraordinary visions, she began to
think herself _inspired_.

But what confirmed her in this belief, was the realization of a
circumstance which she had been forewarned of, in a dream--it was
finding the _Miraculous seal_. One morning, in sweeping out the shop,
she found a seal, with the initials I.S., which could mean nought
else but Joanna Southcott. From this moment she bid adieu to the
upholstering trade, and set up in business for herself as Prophetess.
In her first prophecies she states that in 1792 she was visited by
the Lord, who promised to enter into an everlasting covenant with
her, and told her that a vision would be shown her in the night. It
accordingly appeared, sometimes in the shape of a cup, then like a
cat, which she kicked to pieces, but was very uneasy, until she was
told that it was nothing more than a trick of Satan, with a view to
torment her.

On the appearance of her first prophecies, the Methodist preachers,
already adverted to, endeavoured to convince her of the _diabolical_
nature of her doings, and attributed them to Satan himself. She then
appointed an interview with as many as might choose to attend, in
order to put the question at rest. The discussion was warm, but it
ended in all present signing the following document:--

"I, Joanna Southcott, am clearly convinced that my calling
is of God, and my writings are indited by His Spirit, as it
is impossible for any Spirit, but an All-wise God, that is
wondrous in working, wondrous in power, wondrous in truth, could
have brought round such mysteries, so full of truth, as is in
my writings; so I am clear in whom I have believed, that my
writings came from the Spirit of the most high God.

"JOANNA SOUTHCOTT."

From this time her converts increased surprisingly, so that she could
not furnish seals sufficient to answer all demands. The sealed papers
contained a text of Scripture (not uniformly the same), promissory of
beatitude hereafter, and the envelope was stamped with the seal found
in the upholsterer's shop. The _sealed_ person was forbidden to open
the paper lest the charm should be destroyed.

She came to London, at the invitation of Sharp the engraver, and then
she began deluding her followers that she was the destined mother
of the Messiah, who would be born on October 19, 1814. Her personal
appearance favoured the appearance that she was in an "interesting
condition," but after her death it was found she was suffering from
dropsy. Large sums of money were subscribed towards the expense of
her accouchement, and a most expensive cradle was provided. The time
passed by, but no Shiloh, and she died on December 29, 1814, and was
buried in the churchyard attached to St. John's Chapel, St. John's
Wood; her deluded followers believing for long after that she would
rise again, and come among them.

There are many satirical prints respecting this impostor, but I do
not care to reproduce any of them, as they are either too silly or
too coarse.

INDEX.

Act of Regency, vol. i., 26

" to prevent sale of guineas, vol. i., 72

Actors, vol. ii., 340

Allies, The, vol. i., 188, 277

" before Paris, vol. i., 241

Almacks, vol. ii., 287

Amazons, vol. ii., 297

Amelia, Death of Princess, vol. i., 4

American war, vol. i., 169, 191

" " Declaration of, vol. i., 140

American war, exchange of prisoners, vol. i., 366

American war, treaty of peace, vol. ii., 7

Appeal by battle, vol. ii., 143

Art, vol. ii., 353

Ballooning, vol. i., 88, 342, 351

Banquet at Guildhall, vol. i., 288

Baron Geramb, vol. ii., 332

Bartholomew Fair, vol. i., 136

Bath, Order of the, vol. i., 372

Battle, Appeal by, vol. ii., 143

Battle for the Standard, vol. ii., 69

Bellingham, John, vol. i., 113

" " execution of, vol. i., 117

Belvoir, The Regent at, vol. i., 213

Birth of Queen Victoria, vol. ii., 198

Blucher a gambler, vol. i., 273

" and the ladies, vol. i., 271

" arrival of, vol. i., 266

" at Oxford, vol. i., 273

Body-snatchers, vol. i., 147; vol. ii., 111

Boy, The calculating, vol. ii., 359

Brooke's Club, vol. ii., 63

Brougham, Lord, vol. i., 325

Bull-baiting, Suppression of, vol. i., 80

Bullion, Scarcity of, vol. i., 43, 67, 110

Burdett, Sir Francis, vol. i., 65

"Burking," vol. i., 147

Calculating boy, vol. ii., 359

Caporal Violette, vol. i., 250

Caraboo, vol. ii., 158

Caravats and Shanavests, vol. i., 40

Carlton House, vol. i., 49

Caroline, Princess, leaves England, vol. i., 358

Caroline, Princess, letter to Regent, vol. i., 193

Catalini, Madame, vol. ii., 351

Catholic soldiers, treatment of, vol. i., 23

Cat in a conflagration, vol. i., 191

Census, The, vol. i., 91

Charles I., exhumation of, vol. i., 159

Charles I., Relics of, vol. i., 163

Charlotte, Princess, vol. i., 192

" " and the Regent, vol. i., 316

Charlotte, Princess, and Prince of Orange, vol. i., 311

Charlotte, Princess, Betrothal of, vol. ii., 74

Charlotte, Princess, coming of age, vol. i., 216

Charlotte, Princess, death of, vol. ii., 148

Charlotte, Princess, flight of, vol. i., 323

Charlotte, Princess, presentation at Court, vol. i., 306

Charlotte, Princess, wedding of, vol. ii., 81

_Chesapeake_ and _Shannon_, vol. i., 169

Circassian, The fair, vol. ii., 194

Chimney sweep, Bill to regulate, vol. i., 133

Chimney sweep, Marriage of a, vol. ii., 100

Chimney sweep, Trial of a, vol. ii., 101

Clown's wager, vol. ii., 343

Clubs, vol. ii., 60

Coaches, vol. ii., 227

Coates, Robert, vol. ii., 334

Cobourg, Prince Leopold of, vol. i., 312; vol. ii., 75

Cochrane, Lord, vol. i., 236

Cock fighting, vol. ii., 321

Comet, The, vol. i., 83

Costumes of period, vol. i., 57, 365

Coinage, New, vol. ii., 106, 139, 142, 168

Cossack, A, vol. i., 155

Cricket by candlelight, vol. i., 104

Cricket match of women, vol. i., 87

Crown, Attempt to steal the, vol. ii., 8

_Cumberland_, The, vol. i., 15

Custom House, burning of, vol. i., 233

Dandisette, vol. ii., 277

Dandy, A, vol. ii., 317

Dandy Horse, vol. ii., 176

Death of George III., vol. ii., 213

" Princess Charlotte, vol. ii., 149

Death of Queen, vol. ii., 168

Debtors' prisons, vol. i., 11, 202

Dinner, A public, vol. ii., 185

" A volunteer's, vol. i., 203

" party, An enormous, vol. i., 51

Dining, vol. i., 302; vol. ii. 327

Doctors, vol. ii., 191, 360

Donkey riding, vol. ii., 233

Drury Lane Theatre, vol. ii., 339

Duelling, vol. i., 137

Earthquake, Shock of, vol. ii., 133

Eating extraordinary, vol. i., 42; vol. ii., 328

Emigration, vol. ii., 193

Emperor of Russia, arrival of, vol. i., 262

Emperor of Russia at Oxford, vol. i., 281

England in 1816, vol. ii., 97

English prisoners in France, vol. i., 21, 331

Esquimaux in London, vol. ii., 72

Evans, Rev. John, vol. i., 5

Exchequer Bills, vol. i., 200

"Excursion to Windsor," vol. i., 5

Fair, Bartholomew, vol. i., 136

" in the parks, vol. i., 256

" on the Thames, vol. i., 219

Fasting woman, vol. i., 168

Female cricketers, vol. i., 87

" pedestrian, vol. ii., 299

" sailors and soldiers, vol. ii., 297

Female sports, vol. ii., 298

Fête at Carlton House, vol. i., 49

Fireworks, vol. i., 346

Fog-extraordinary, vol. i., 209

Footpads, vol. i., 77

Fortunate Youth, The, vol. ii., 153

Fraud on Stock Exchange, vol. i., 235

French fiddler, vol. i., 384

" prisoners, vol. i., 119, 124, 182, 363; vol. ii., 55

Frost, fair, vol. i., 219

" severe, vol. i., 217

Frozen meat, vol. ii., 70

Fruit, Scarcity of, vol. i., 237

Gambling, vol. ii., 62, 321

" with Napoleon's life, vol. i., 208

Garter, Order of, vol. i., 179

Gas, Introduction of, vol. i., 208; vol. ii., 105

George III., custody of person, vol. i., 36; vol. ii., 176

George III., Death of, vol. ii., 213

" Health of, vol. i., 2, 4, 93, 197, 372; vol. ii., 131, 210

George III., love of music, vol. i., 9

Gilray, Death of, vol. i., 76

Gipsies, vol. ii., 263

Grand Duke Nicholas, vol. ii., 133

Gretna Green, vol. ii., 300

Guard's Club, vol. ii., 64

Guildhall, Banquet at, vol. i., 286

Guineas, vol. i., 67, 72, 110, 360

Habeas Corpus suspended, vol. ii., 141

Hamilton, Lady, vol. i., 376

Hanger, Colonel, vol. i., 29

Hedgehog and man fight, vol. i., 203

Highwayman, vol. i., 77

Hobby Horse, vol. ii., 176

Houses of London, vol. ii., 234

Hunt, H., _Saved Sinner_, vol. ii., 116

Huntingdon, William, vol. i., 175

Ibbetson's hotel, vol. ii., 61

Ireland, State of, vol. i., 209, 329

Irish witness, An, vol. ii., 201

Jews, cruelty to, vol. i., 25

Jordan, Mrs., vol. ii., 341

Jubilee of George III., vol. i., 342

Kean, vol. ii., 339

Kemble, vol. ii., 343

King of Prussia, and prize-fighters, vol. i., 287

King of Prussia, Arrival of, vol. i., 205

King of Prussia, bed of, vol. i., 287

King, Lord, vol. i., 68

Kyrle Society, vol. ii., 164

Ladies' costumes, vol. i., 57, 365; vol. ii., 277, 289

Lady Parachutist, vol. i., 89

" Pig-faced, The, vol. i., 377

Leipsic, Battle of, vol. i., 185

Leopold, Prince of Cobourg, vol. i., 312; vol. ii., 75

Letter of a soldier, vol. ii., 57

Limmer's Club, vol. ii., 61

Linwood, Miss, vol. ii., 355

Lioness attacks coach, vol. ii., 232

Literature, vol. ii., 356

Louis XVIII., welcome to, vol. i., 253

Lucien Buonaparte, vol. i., 11

Luddite Riots, vol. i., 91, 108, 150

Mackerel, Price of, vol. i., 201

Man and hedgehog fight, vol. i., 203

Margate, vol. i., 143; vol. ii., 54

Marlborough House, vol. ii., 247

Marriage, A chimney sweep's, vol. ii., 100

Marriage Act, Royal, vol. ii., 78

" curious, vol. ii., 300

" of Duke of Gloucester, vol. ii., 99

Marriage of Princess Charlotte, vol. ii., 81

McMahon, Colonel, vol. i., 103

Meat, Frozen, vol. ii., 70

Medical men, vol. ii., 191, 360

Men of the period, vol. ii., 303

Men's dress, vol. ii., 307

Midshipmen, vol. ii., 52

Museum, British, vol. ii., 14

Musical Prodigy, vol. ii., 353

Napoleon, abdication, vol. ii., 25

" attempts suicide, vol. i., 248

Napoleon, _Bon mots_ about, vol. ii., 13

Napoleon, Carriage of, vol. ii., 199

" escape from Elba, vol. i., 386

Napoleon, Fall of, vol. i., 246

" letter to Regent, vol. ii., 28

Napoleon on _Bellerophon_, vol. ii., 36

Napoleon, personal appearance, vol. ii., 33

Napoleon sent to St. Helena, vol. ii., 43

Navy, Strength of, vol. i., 211

New Coinage, vol. ii., 106, 139, 142, 168

Oldenburgh, Duchess of, vol. i., 238

Opera, Italian, vol. ii., 347

"Orange Boven," vol. i., 187

Orange, Prince of, vol. i., 187, 261, 311

Order of Bath, vol. i., 372

Owen, Robert, vol. ii., 149

Oysters, vol. ii., 331

Parachutes, vol. i., 88

Paris, Capitulation of, vol. i., 243

Parish Registers, vol. i., 147

Percival, Rt. Hon. S., vol. i., 112

" " murder of, vol. i., 115

Percussion cap, vol. i., 76

Peterloo, vol. ii., 205

Petersham, Lord, vol. ii., 308

Pig-faced Lady, vol. i., 377

Platoff, Mdlle., vol. i., 159

Population, vol. i., 91

Post-chaises, vol. ii., 221

Prince of Orange, vol. i., 187, 261, 311

Printing on the ice, vol. i., 223

Prisoners in France, vol. i., 21, 331

Prisoners of war, American, vol. i., 363, 366; vol. ii., 8

Prisoners of war, French, vol. i., 89, 119, 124, 182, 363; vol. ii., 55

Prize-fighting, vol. ii., 322, 371

Prodigy, Musical, vol. ii., 353

Provisions, Price of, vol. i., 149, 237

Punch, Recipe for, vol. ii., 330

Pye, Death of, vol. i., 181

Queen, The, and madwoman, vol. i., 166

Queen, The, and Quaker, vol. ii., 146

Queen, The, at Bath, vol. ii., 146

" " Death of, vol. ii., 168

" " practical joke, vol. i., 84

Queen, The, sale of effects, vol. ii., 173

Queen, The, Wealth of, vol. ii., 169

Reform meeting, vol. ii., 203

Regalia, Finding of Scottish, vol. ii., 163

Regency, vol. i., 2, 19

Regent, The, at Belvoir, vol. i., 213

" at Oxford, vol. i., 282

" and Freedom of London, vol. i., 44

Regent, The, and Napoleon, vol. ii., 49

Regent, The, companions of, vol. i., 29

Regent, The, debts of, vol. ii., 17

" hissed, vol. i., 307

" in the kitchen, vol. ii., 188

Regent, The, public worship, vol. i., 26

Regent, The, sprained ankle, vol. i., 98

Regent, The, stoned, vol. ii., 135

" sworn in, vol. i., 30

Regent's Canal, vol. ii., 246

" The, joke, vol. ii., 73

" Street, vol. ii., 246

" The, remonstrance, vol. i., 352

Regent's, The, yacht, vol. ii., 86

Registers, Parish, vol. i., 147

Religion, vol. ii., 365

Resurrection men, vol. i., 147; vol. ii., 111

Riots, vol. i., 89, 116; vol. ii., 5

" Anti-Corn Bill, vol. ii., 1

" at a theatre, vol. ii., 348

" in public schools, vol. ii., 166

" The Luddite, vol. i., 91, 108, 150

Riots, The Spa Fields, vol. ii., 125

Royal sceptre discovered, vol. ii., 12

Royal milling match, vol. i., 99

" whiskers, vol. ii., 85

Sailors, distressed, vol. ii., 161

Sailor's frolics, vol. i., 43, 376

Salamanca, vol. i., 129

Sceptre, Discovery of Royal, vol. ii., 12

Shanavests and Caravats, vol. i., 40

_Shannon_ and _Chesapeake_, vol. i., 169

Sheridan, Funeral of, vol. ii., 342

Shops, vol. ii., 240

Siddons, Mrs., vol. ii., 336

Slave trade, vol. i., 207

Smuggling, vol. i., 68, 75, 151; vol. ii., 109

Snowstorm, vol. i., 217

Soldier, Letter of a, vol. ii., 57

Southcott, Joanna, vol. ii., 367

Southey, Robt., vol. i., 182

Spinning, vol. ii., 290

Stage, The, vol. ii., 331

Steamboats vol. ii., 215

Steam locomotives, vol. i., 142

Stock Exchange fraud, vol. i., 235

Strawberry, Large, vol. i., 203

Streets, The, vol. ii., 237

Suspension of Habeas Corpus, vol. ii., 141

Tea Gardens, vol. ii., 242

Theatres, vol. ii., 331

Thames frozen, vol. i., 219

_Times_, _The_, and Napoleon, vol. ii., 13, 26, 29

Torpedoes, vol. i., 204

Trade, Stagnation of, vol. ii., 94

" reopened with France, vol. i., 128

Treaty of Peace with America, vol. ii., 7

Treaty of Peace with France, vol. i., 293

Vauxhall Gardens, vol. i., 174

Vegetables, price of, vol. i., 237

Vittoria, Battle of, vol. i., 174

Volunteers' dinner, vol. i., 203

Waltzing, vol. ii., 278

War, American, vol. i., 140, 169, 191, 366; vol. ii., 7

Washington, Burning of, vol. i., 369

Waterloo, Battle of, vol. ii., 23

" Bridge, vol. ii., 247

" medals, vol. ii., 70

" thanksgiving day, vol. ii., 67

Wellington, Duke of, vol. i., 257, 300, 331

Whiskers, Royal, vol. ii., 85

White's Club, vol. ii., 62

Wife selling, vol. i., 374

Wines, vol. ii., 329

Witchcraft, vol. i., 78

Witness, Irish, vol. ii., 201

Woman, The Fasting, vol. i., 168

Women cricketers, vol. i., 87

Women of the period, vol. ii., 278

York, Duke of, vol. i., 45; vol. ii., 176

Youth, The Fortunate, vol. i., 153

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[Transcriber's notes: Obvious printer's errors have been silently
corrected, all other inconsistencies are as in the original. The
author's spelling has been maintained.

Other changes made:

--Page 43: "Generals Savary and Tallemand" changed to "Generals
Savary and Lallemand".

--Page 54: "Argaud lamps" changed to "Argand lamps".

--Page 125: "'And, will you protect me!" changed to "'And, will you
protect me?"

Unusual supscripts are placed between parentheses.]

*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Social England under the Regency, Vol. 2 (of 2)" ***

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