Gossip in the First Decade of Victoria's Reign Part 13

Applicant said there were, he understood, 10 or 12, but it was only intended to proceed against the four ringleaders. The coachman, finding that they were determined to have his fellow servant off the box, drove on a little way, and, on returning to his place, Lord Normanby's carriage ran against his, and seriously damaged it. The footman was, at length, dragged from the box, and very roughly handled: his foot was hurt. The coachman was also struck with the long "staff" carried by the "constable."

Samuel Linturn, the footman, corroborated this statement.

The summonses were granted.

It was stated that Lord Normanby, at once, offered to make good the damage done, but this the Earl of Galloway declined, having determined that the whole matter should be publicly investigated by a magistrate.

Two days afterwards, four footmen in the employ of Lords Melbourne, Lansdowne, Normanby and Tankerville appeared to answer the summonses.

The complainant, in the course of his evidence, said that he had been to the House of Lords on several previous occasions, but had never been asked for anything, nor did he even know of the existence of such a room. Turk asked him whose servant he was, but he refused to tell him. Turk, at the time, had, in his hand, a pointed stick, which he called a staff; he made no demand for money then, but went away, and the complainant got on the box with the coachman, who took the coach to the stand. Turk, accompanied by several others, then came up. The Marquis of Bute's footman said he would pay the fine, or footing, and placed two shillings on the footboard of the carriage for that purpose. This did not satisfy them. Several persons, amongst whom were the defendants, got upon the coach, and swore that if he did not come down, they would pull him down. There were several police about, and, although he called upon them for a.s.sistance, they would not come.

Both he and the coachman told them that he had no money, and the coachman said he would secure them payment, if they would go and drink the beer, but they insisted upon the complainant's presence in the "club." He still refused, and then they brought a long pole, which they called a "horse." The coachman drove up Abingdon Street to avoid them, but several of the carriages drew out of the rank, and followed them, and, as the coachman turned to regain his station, Lord Normanby's carriage was driven against him, and the Earl of Galloway's carriage sustained considerable damage; it was forced on the footway, and was obliged to stop, upon which, several of the footmen ran, and seized the horses by their heads. The defendants dragged the complainant off the box; one had hold of his foot, and another, who seized upon his greatcoat, tore the b.u.t.tons from it, and from his gaiters and breeches. They then placed him upon the pole, which they called "putting him on horseback."

They then rode him into the room mentioned, where Lord Holland's footman sat as chairman, and decided that he should pay two shillings. He borrowed the money from Lord Lansdowne's servant, and was about to leave the room, but he was forced to resume his seat, as he was told he could, from the room, easily hear when the carriage was called, and that "he must sit and drink his beer." He was also told that he was now sworn in, and had only to kiss the staff, which was presented to him, but he refused to do it. He was detained three-quarters of an hour, against his will. His foot was hurt, and the coachman was injured by a blow from the "staff."

The coachman corroborated the evidence, and the defendants were fined ten shillings each.

On the 29th April, there was an uproar in the Italian Opera House, which might have expanded into another O.P. riot of 1809. The Impresario, M.

Laporte, had not engaged Tamburini, because his terms were too high, and the singer's friends were highly indignant. On this evening, at the conclusion of the opera of _I Puritani_, several voices began calling for M. Laporte, with shouts of "Tamburini!" Poor M. Laporte appeared and began a speech in which he sought to excuse himself, but it was drowned by a torrent of groans and hisses, which came, princ.i.p.ally, from the occupants of the "omnibus" box. {128} M. Laporte so clearly perceived this, that, in a few minutes, his speech to the audience merged into a private conversation with its occupants. The noise increased, and M.

Laporte declared that he was not to be "intimidated," a word which roused the "omnibus" party to perfect fury. He retired, and the curtain rose for the ballet, in which a new dancer was to have made her appearance.

The noise, now, became terrible; yells, hisses, and all sorts of uncouth sounds were blended in frightful discord. The dancers, perceiving all attempts at a performance were in vain, and, at the same time, being afraid to quit the stage, sat quietly, all round.

Again and again Laporte came forward, and tried to bring matters to a settlement, and once he ventured to say, that, as manager, he had a right to engage performers at his own discretion, and that he was not to be responsible to an audience-which, it is needless to say, added fuel to fire. Then he told them his engagements would not allow him to employ Tamburini, which meant ruin to him, but it only provoked more noise.

Then he appealed to their better feelings by telling them of the many years he had catered for their amus.e.m.e.nt, and this did bring him some support, for cries of "Shame," "No Tamburini," and "No Intimidation,"

were heard, but this only had the effect of dividing the audience, and increasing the hubbub.

Once again poor Laporte came forward, and talked of engaging Tamburini on "Conditions." This word upset all, and the Tamburinists asked: "Will you engage him? Yes, or No?" Laporte said he would make proposals, and, if those proposals, etc. This would not do; "Yes, or No?" said his persevering interrogators. "Say 'No,'" said his supporters. He began talking about terms. "Same terms as last year," shouted all the "Omnibus" party, upon which he retired, without proposing anything satisfactory. Everyone was getting tired, when, at last, a gentleman, in a box opposite the "Omnibus," stepped over the front of his box on to the stage, and was followed by a party; the "Omnibus" party entered the stage from the opposite side, and, at one o'clock, the Tamburinists had taken possession, and waved their hats triumphantly, on the stage, as the curtain fell.

It was this episode that the Rev. R. H. Barham has immortalized in his _Ingoldsby Legends_, under the t.i.tle of "A Row in an Omnibus (box),"

beginning:

Doldrum the Manager sits in his chair, With a gloomy brow and dissatisfied air, And he says, as he slaps his hand on his knee, 'I'll have nothing to do with Fiddle-de-dee!

'-But Fiddle-de-dee sings clear and loud, And his trills and his quavers astonish the crowd.

Such a singer as he, You'll nowhere see, They'll all be screaming for Fiddle-de-dee!

'-Though Fiddle-de-dee sings loud and clear, And his tones are sweet, yet his terms are dear!

The glove won't fit!

The deuce a bit.

I shall give an engagement to Fal-de-ral-t.i.t!'"

CHAPTER XIII.

The Mulready Envelope-Plans of Royal Exchange decided on-Fire at York Minster-Queen shot at by Oxford-Oxford in Bedlam-Scientific Agriculture-Electro-metallurgy-Embossed envelope-Sale of Louis Napoleon's effects.

On the 1st of May, the Post Office issued the long expected postal envelope designed by W. Mulready, R.A., and the opinion of _The Times_ may be taken as the expression of most people's feelings about it.

_Times_, 2 May.-"We have been favoured with a sight of one of the new stamp covers, and we must say we never beheld anything more ludicrous than the figures or allegorical device by which it is marked with its official character-why not add embellished? Cruickshank could scarcely produce anything so laughable. It is, apparently, a spirited attempt to imitate the hieroglyphic which formed one of the ornaments to _Moore's Almanack_; Britannia is seated in the centre, with the lion couchant (Whiggish) at her feet; her arms are extended, scattering little flying children to some elephants on the left; and, on the right, to a group of gentlemen, some of whom, at all events, are not enclosed in _envelopes_, writing on their knees, evidently on account of a paucity of tables. There are, besides, sundry figures, who, if they were to appear in the streets of London, or any of our highways, would be liable to the penalties of the Vagrant Act for indecent exposure. Under the tableland by which these figures are supported, some evidence of a laudable curiosity is depicted, by three or four ladies, who are represented reading a billet doux, or valentine, and some little boys, evidently learning to spell, by the mental exertion which their anxious faces disclose. One serious omission we must notice. Why have those Mercuries in red jackets, who traverse London and its environs on lame ponies, been omitted?

We must admit that, as they have been, recently, better mounted, that is one reason why they should not appear in this Government picture."

But the reader can judge how far this description is borne out.

[Picture: Mulready envelope]

As a matter of fact, it was so universally disapproved of by the public, and was the object of so much ridicule, as to necessitate the destruction of nearly all the vast number prepared for issue. To do this, a machine had to be specially constructed; the attempt to do the work by fire, in close stoves (fear of robbery forbade the use of open ones), having absolutely failed. They are now somewhat scarce, but are extensively forged. It was satirized and laughed at by all, and a contemporary criticism, which has been reproduced in _The Philatelist_, vol. vii., p.

145, is very amusing:

"Britannia is sending her messengers forth To the East, to the West, to the South, to the North: At her feet is a lion wot's taking a nap, And a dish-cover rests on her legs and her lap.

To the left is a Mussulman writing a letter, His knees form a desk, for the want of a better; Another believer's apparently trying To help him in telling the truth, or in lying.

Two slaves 'neath their burden seem ready to sink, But a sly-looking elephant 'tips us the wink'; His brother behind, a most corpulent beast, Just exhibits his face, like the moon in a mist.

On each is a gentleman riding astraddle, With neat Turkey carpets in lieu of a saddle; The camels, behind, seem disposed for a lark, The taller's a well-whisker'd, fierce-looking shark.

An Arab, arrayed with a coal-heaver's hat, With a friend from the desert is holding a chat; The picture's completed by well-tailed Chinese A-purchasing opium, and selling of teas.

The minister's navy is seen in the rear- They long turned their backs on the service-'tis clear That they now would declare, in their typical way, That Britannia it is who has done it, not they.

A reindeer and Laplander cutting through snow, The rate of their progress (down hill) seems to show.

To the right, is the King of the Cannibal Islands, In the same pantaloons that they wear in the Highlands Some squaws by his side, with their infantile varments, And a friend, in the front, who's forgotten his garments.

Frost, Williams and Jones {132} have this moment been hook And are fixing the day they would choose to be cook'd.

There a planter is giving and watching the tasks Of two worthy n.i.g.g.e.rs, at work on two casks.

Below, to the left, as designed by Mulready, Is sorrow's effect on a very fat lady; While joy at good news may be plainly descried, In the trio engaged on the opposite side."

[Picture: Left-Lord Monteagle and Mr. Baring, Britannia, Lord Palmerston.

Right-O'Connell and the Duke of Wellington]

There were very many pictorial satires on this unfortunate wrapper, but none bore so near a resemblance to it as the accompanying ill.u.s.tration by John Doyle (H.B. Sketches, 26 May, 1840, No. 639). Lord Palmerston, as Britannia, is dispatching Mercuries with fire and sword, to the east, typical of the wars in Egypt and China. On the other hand, he sends a flight of Cupids to Father Mathew, the apostle of Temperance, who was then doing such good work in Ireland, whilst a man is knocking the bung out of a whisky barrel. Beneath this group is O'Connell, who is roaring out "Hurrah for Repeal!" to the horror of the Duke of Wellington, who is behind him. On the left is Lord Monteagle, late Chancellor of the Exchequer, ill in bed; whilst his successor, Mr. Baring, reads to him the result of his policy: "Post Office deliveries in the quarter, 272,000!

Total deficiency in the year, to be made up by new taxation, 2,000,000!"

On 7 May, the Gresham Committee met to decide on the two plans for the New Royal Exchange, one prepared by Mr. c.o.c.kerell, R.A., and the other by Mr. t.i.te, President of the Architectural Society, which was in favour of the latter by 13 votes to 7. The works were immediately proceeded with.

Talking of one fire seems to lead on to another, for on 20 May, York Minster was for the second time visited with a conflagration-this time, however, it was caused accidentally, and not the work of an incendiary.

The following extract from a letter dated York, 21 May, gives a graphic account of the fire, and is of especial interest, as being from the pen of a spectator.

"You may hear the rumour of the alarming and truly awful calamity that has occurred in this city, before you receive this. I have witnessed it, and shall hold the recollection as long as my memory exists. About 20 minutes to 9 last evening, I was told the Minster was on fire. I ran out, immediately, towards it, and stood by it, just as the flames had issued from the top part of the south-west tower, at a height that an engine could not have played upon. The fire continued to rage until it had entire possession of the upper part; flames issuing from every window, and piercing the roof. To describe the feelings under which I witnessed the devouring flames preying upon a national monument, which every man must look upon with admiration, requires a pen more descriptive than mine. Grief, awe, wonder and admiration were the emotions with which I regarded the destruction of this venerable church. I soon obtained admission into the nave of the Cathedral, and observed the first falling down of the burnt embers. The flames illumined the interior with more than mid-day brightness; the light, pouring through the crevices, threw a brilliancy over the scene which imagination cannot paint. The fire, at this time, was wholly confined to the tower.

"After the s.p.a.ce of half an hour, the flooring of the belfry in the tower began to be forced by the falling bells and lighted beams. At this period, my nerves were strung to the highest excitement. The noise was extraordinary. The shouting of the firemen, the roaring of the flames rushing up the tower with the rapidity of a furnace draught, sounded in the high and arched s.p.a.ce, awful and terrific.

The falling ma.s.ses of wood, and bells, sounded like the near discharge of artillery, and were echoed back from the dark pa.s.sages, whose glomy shade, and hollow responses seemed mourning at the funeral pile that burned so fiercely. In one hour, the tower was completely gutted, and ma.s.ses of burning timber lay piled against the south-west door. The upper and under roof, composed princ.i.p.ally of fir timber, covering the nave, as far as the centre tower, had, by this time, become fired, and burned with extraordinary rapidity. The firemen, by a well-managed direction of the water, prevented the flames pa.s.sing through the west windows of the centre tower, and continued their exertions at that spot, until the whole of the roof had fallen in, and lay, in the centre of the aisle, a sea of fire.

"The west doors had, now, become nearly burnt through, and planks were brought to barricade them, and prevent the rushing of air to fan the embers to flame, which might have communicated to the organ, and thence, throughout the whole pile of buildings.

"At 1 o'clock, this morning, I again entered the Cathedral, and then concluded there was no further danger of destruction. The tower is standing, also the walls and pillars of the nave; and, beyond that, the building, I am happy to state, is saved.

"The fire is supposed to have originated from a clock maker, who has been, for some time past, occupied in repairing the clock in that tower, who might accidentally, have dropped a spark from a candle."

The repairs in 1829, when the Cathedral was fired by the fanatic, John Martin, cost 65,000, which was raised by subscription, and it was estimated that the cost of the present repairs would amount to about 20,000.