Real Life In London Part 45

The sombre reflections occasioned by these remarks gradually gave way to those of a more enlivening hue, as the two friends proceeded along the Strand. The various display, at the tradesmen's shop windows, of useful and ornamental articles,--the continued bustle of the street,--the throng of pa.s.sengers of every description, hurrying on in the activity of business, or more leisurely lounging their way under the impulse of curiosity,--the endless succession of new faces, and frequent occurrence of interesting incident;--these united in forming an inexhaustible fund of amus.e.m.e.nt and admiration.

1 "Hatton Garden.--On Sat.u.r.day, no less than fifteen unfortunate girls, all elegantly attired, were placed at the bar, charged by Cadby, the street-keeper on the Foundling Estate, with loitering about the neighbourhood for their nocturnal purposes. The constable stated, that repeated complaints had been made to him by many of the inhabitants, of the disgraceful practice of vast numbers of frail ones, who resort every night to Brunswick Square. He had been therefore instructed to endeavour to suppress the nuisance.

About twelve o'clock on Friday night, while perambulating the district, he found the fifteen prisoners at the bar in Brunswick Square, at their usual pursuits, and all of them were in the act of picking up gentlemen. He procured a.s.sistance, and they were taken into custody, and conveyed to the watch-house.

None of the prisoners could deny the charge, but expressed great contrition at being under the painful necessity of procuring their subsistence in so disgraceful a manner. They were examined individually, by the magistrates, as to the origin that brought them to disgrace. Some, from their admission, were farmers' daughters, and had been decoyed from their relatives, and brought to London, and subsequently deserted by their seducers. Some were nursery- maids--others, girls seduced from boarding schools. Their tales were truly distressing--some had only been six months in such infamy, others twelve months, and some two years and upwards.

The worthy magistrate, with much feeling, admonished them on the evil course they were following, and pointed out the means still left for them to return to the paths of virtue; and on their severally promising never to appear again in that quarter, they were discharged."

Pa.s.sing through Temple Bar, "Once more," said ~342~~ Dashall, "we enter the dominions of another Sovereign,--the Monarch of the City,--than whom there is none more tenacious of the rights and immunities of his subjects. Professing a strictly civil government, and consequent hostility to military interference, it does not always happen that the regal sway of the East harmonizes with that of the West, and the limited reign of the former is generally most popular when most in opposition to that of the latter. Several important events have occurred wherein a late patriotic Right Honourable Chief Magistrate has had the opportunity of manifesting a zealous, firm, and determined attachment to the privileges of the community: the good wishes of his fellow-citizens have accompanied his retirement, and his private and public worth will be long held in deserved estimation."

Turning up the Old Bailey, and pa.s.sing, with no pleasing sensations, that structure in front of which so many human beings expiate their offences with their lives, without, in any degree, the frequency of the dreadful example lessening the perpetration of crime,--"The crowd thickens," exclaimed the 'Squire; and advancing into Smithfield, a new scene opened on the view of the astonished Tallyho. An immense and motley crowd was wedged together in the open s.p.a.ce of the market, which was surrounded by booths and shows of every description, while the pavement was rendered nearly impa.s.sable by a congregated mult.i.tude, attracted by the long line of stalls, exhibiting, in ample redundancy, the gorgeously gilt array of ginger-bread monarchs, savory spice-nuts, toys for children and those of elder growth, and the numerous other _et cetera_ of Bartholomew Fair, which at that moment the Lord Mayor of London, with accustomed state and formality, was in the act of proclaiming.

A more dissonant uproar now astounded the ears of Bob than ever issued from the hounds at falt in the field or at variance in the kennel! The prolonged stunning and vociferous acclamation of the mob, accompanied by the deeply sonorous clangor of the gong--the shrill blast of the trumpet--the hoa.r.s.e-resounding voices of the mountebanks, straining their lungs to the pitch of extremity, through speaking tubes--the screams of women and children, and the universal combination of discord, announced the termination of the Civic Sovereign's performance in the drama; "the revelry now had began," ~343~~ and all was obstreperous uproar, and "confusion worse confounded."

In the vortex of the vast a.s.semblage, the Hon. Tom Dashall and his Cousin were more closely hemmed in than they probably would have been at the rout of female distinction, where inconvenience is the order of the night, and pressure, to the dread of suffocation, the criterion of rank and fashion. Borne on the confluent tide, retreat was impracticable; alternately then, stationary and advancing with the mult.i.tude, as it urged its slow and undulating progress; or paused at the attractions of Wombwell and Gillman's rival menageries--the equestrian shows of Clark and Astley--the theatres of Richardson and Gyngell, graced by the promenade of the _dramatis personae_ and lure of female nudity--the young giantess--the dwarfs--and the accomplished lady, who, born without arms, cuts out watch-papers with her toes, and takes your likeness with her teeth!--Amidst these and numerous other seductive impediments to their progress, our pedestrians, resisting alike temptation and invitation, penetrated the ma.s.s of spectators, and gained an egress at Long Lane, uninjured in person, and undamaged in property, "save and except" the loss, by Bob, of a shoe, and the rent frock of his honourable Cousin.

To repair the one and replace the other was now the predominant consideration. By fortunate proximity to a descendant of St. Crispin, the latter object was speedily effected; but the difficulty of finding, in that neighbourhood, a knight of the thimble, appearing insurmountable, the two friends pursued their course, Dashall drawing under his arm the shattered skirts of his garment, until they reached Playhouse Yard, in Upper Whitecross Street, St. Luke's, to which they had been previously directed, the epitome of Monmouth Street, chiefly inhabited by tailors and old clothes retailers, where purchase and repair are equally available.

Entering a shop occupied by an intelligent Scotch tailor, who, with his son, was busily employed in making up black cloth and kerseymere waistcoats, his spouse, a native of Edinburgh, with a smile of complacency and avidity of utterance that strongly indicated a view to the main chance, put her usual inquiry:

"What is your wull, Gentlemen--what wad you please to want?"

"My good lady," answered Dashall, "we would be ~344~~ glad to accept the services of your husband," exhibiting at same time the rent skirts of his frock. "This accident was sustained in pa.s.sing, or rather in being squeezed through the Fair; my friend too, experienced a trifling loss; but, as it has been replaced, I believe that he does not require present amendment."

The materials destined to form the black waistcoats were then put aside, while the northern adept in the exercise of the needle proceeded to operate on the fractured garment; and a coat being supplied, _ad interim_, Tom and his friend accepted the "hospitable invitation of the guid wife, and seated themselves with unhesitating sociability.

"And sae ye hae been to the Fair, gentlemen?" "We have, madam," said Dashall, "and unintentionally so; we were not, until on the spot, aware of any such exhibition, and got within its vortex just as the Lord Mayor had licensed, by proclamation, the commencement of this annual scene of idleness, riot and dissipation!"

"Hoot awa, Sir, ye wadna wish to deprive us o' our amus.e.m.e.nts; poor folks dinna often enjoy pleasure, and why should na they hae a wee bit o' it now and then, as weel as the rich?"

"I know not, my good lady," exclaimed Bon, "that I can altogether a.s.similate with your's my ideas of pleasure; if it consists in being pressed nearly to death by a promiscuous rabble, in attempts on your pocket, shoes trod off your feet by the formidable iron-cased soles of a drayman's ponderous sandals, to say nothing of the pleasing effect thus produced upon your toes, and in having the coat torn off from your back, I would freely resign to the admirers of such pleasure the full benefit of its enjoyment."

"Accidents wull happen ony where and in ony situation," replied the garrulous wife; "ye may be thankfu', gentlemen, that its nae waur,--and, for the matter o' the rent frock, my guid man wull repair it in sic a way that the disaster wull no be seen, and the coat wull look as weel as ever."

The promise was verified; the reparation was made with equal neatness and celerity; something beyond the required remuneration was given; and Dashall inquiring if the worthy dame of _Auld Reekie_ would take a drop of cordial, the friendly offer was accepted, and the gla.s.s of ~345~~ good fellowship having been drank, and civilities interchanged, the strangers departed.

They were now in Whitecross Street, where sojourned their acquaintance of the morning, the distressed Poet; and, from the accuracy of description, had no difficulty in ascertaining his place of residence.

It was in a public-house; a convenient lodging for the forlorn being, who, exiled from friendship, and unconnected by any ties of consanguinity, can dress his scanty meal by a gratuitous fire, and where casual generosity may sometimes supply him with a draught of Hanbury's exhilarating beverage.

At the bar, directly facing the street door, the strangers, on inquiring for the Poet by name, were directed by the landlord, with a sarcastical expression of countenance, to "the first floor _down the chimney_!"

while the Hostess, whose demeanour perfectly accorded with that of the well-manner'd gentlewoman, politely interfered, and, shewing the parlour, sent a domestic to acquaint her lodger that he was wanted below stairs.

The summons was instantaneously obeyed; but as the parlour precluded the opportunity of private conversation, being partly occupied by clamorous butchers, with whom this street abounds to redundancy, the Poet had no other alternative than that of inviting the respectable visitants to his attic, or, as the Landlord facetiously named the lofty domicile, his first floor down the chimney!

Real Life in London must be seen, to be believed. The Hon. Tom Dashall and his friend Tallyho were reared in the lap of luxury, and never until now formed an adequate conception of the distressing privations attendant on suffering humanity.

With a dejection of spirits evidently occasioned by the humiliating necessity of ushering his polished friends into the wretched asylum of penury, the Poet led the way with tardy reluctancy, while his visitors regretted every step of ascent, under the appalling circ.u.mstance of giving pain to adversity; yet they felt that to recede would be more indelicate than to advance.

The apartment which they now entered seemed a lumber room, for the reception of superfluous or unserviceable furniture, containing not fewer than eleven decayed and mutilated chairs of varied description; and the limited s.p.a.ce, to make the most of it in a pecuniary point of view, ~346~~ was encroached upon by three uncurtained beds, of most impoverished appearance,--while, exhibiting the ravages of time in divers fractures, the dingy walls and ceiling, retouched by the trowel in many places with a lighter shade of repairing material, bore no unapt resemblance to the Pye-bald Horse in Chiswell-street! Calculating on its utility and probable future use, the builder of the mansion had given to this room the appendage of a chimney, but evidently it had for many years been unconscious of its usual accompaniment, fire. Two windows had originally admitted the light of heaven, but to reduce the duty, one was internally blocked up, while externally uniformity was preserved. A demolished pane of gla.s.s in the remaining window, close to which stood a small dilapidated table, gave ingress to a current of air; the convenient household article denominated a clothes-horse, stood against the wall; and several parallel lines of cord were stretched across the room, on which to hang wet linen, a garret being considered of free access to all the house, and the comfort or health of its occupant held in utter derision and contempt!

Here then,--

"In the worst Inn's worst room, with cobwebs hung, The walls of plaster and the floors of dung,"

entered Dashall and his Cousin Tallyho. The latter familiarly seating himself on the ricketty remains of what had once been an arm-chair, but now a cripple, having lost one of its legs, the precarious equilibrium gave way under the unaccustomed shock of the contact, and the 'Squire came to the ground, to his no small surprise, the confusion of the poet, and amus.e.m.e.nt of Dashall!

With many apologies for the awkwardness of their very humble accommodation, and grateful expression of thanks for the honour conferred upon him, the Poet replaced Tallyho in a firmer seat, and a silence of some few moments ensued, the two friends being at a loss in what manner to explain, and the Poet unwilling to inquire the object of their visit.

Dashall began at last, by observing that in pursuit of the knowledge of Real Life in London, he and his accompanying friend had met with many incidents both ludicrous and interesting; but that in the present instance their visit was rather influenced by sympathy than ~347~~ curiosity, and that where they could be serviceable to the interest of merit in obscurity, they always should be happy in the exercise of a duty so perfectly congenial with their feelings.

Many years had elapsed since the person, to whom these remarks were addressed, had heard the voice of consolation, and its effect was instantaneous; his usual sombre cast of countenance became brightened by the glow of cheerful animation, and he even dwelt on the subject of his unfortunate circ.u.mstances with jocularity:

"The elevated proximity of a garret," he observed, "to the sublimer regions, has often been resorted to as the _roost of genius_; and why should I, of the most slender, if any, literary pretensions, complain?

And yet my writings, scattered amongst the various fugitive periodical publications of this and our sister island, if collected together, would form a very voluminous compilation."

"I have always understood," said Bob, "that the quality, not the quantum, const.i.tuted the fame of an author's productions."

"True, Sir," answered the Poet; "and I meant not the vanity of arrogating to myself any merit from my writings, with reference either to quantum or quality. I alluded to the former, as merely proving the inefficacy of mental labour in realizing the necessaries of life to an author whom celebrity declines acknowledging. Similarly situated, it would appear was the Dutchman mentioned by the late Doctor Walcot,

"My Broder is te poet, look, As all te world must please, For he heb wrote, py Got, a book So big as all this cheese!"

"On the other hand, Collins, Hammond, and Gray, wrote each of them but little, yet their names will descend to posterity!--And had Gray, of his poems the _Bard_, and the _Elegy in a Country Church Yard_, written only one, and written nothing else, he had required no other or better pa.s.sport to immortality!"{1}

1 Of that great and mult.i.tudinous writer, Doctor Samuel Johnson, the following anecdote is told: "Being one morning in the library at Buckingham House honoured with the presence of Royalty, the King, his late Majesty, inquired why he, (Mr. Johnson) did not continue to write. "May it please your Majesty," answered the Doctor, "I think I have written enough."--"I should have thought so too," his Majesty replied, "if, Doctor Johnson, you had not written so well."

~348~~ In this opinion the visitants, who were both well conversant with our native literature, readily acquiesced.

"Have you never," asked Dashall, "thought of publishing a volume by subscription?"

"I meditated such intention," answered the Poet, "not long ago; drew up the necessary Prospectus, with a specimen of the Poetry, and perambulated the Metropolis in search of patronage. In some few instances I was successful, and, though limited the number, yet the high respectability of my few Subscribers gave me inexpressible satisfaction; several of our n.o.bility honoured me with their names, and others, my patrons, were of the very first cla.s.s of literature. Nevertheless, I encountered much contumelious reception; and after an irksome and unavailing perseverance of a month's continuance, I was at last compelled to relinquish all hope of success.

"Having then on my list the name of a very worthy Alderman who lately filled the Civic Chair with honour to himself and advantage to his fellow-citizens, I submitted my prospectus in an evil hour to another Alderman, a baronet, of this here and that there notoriety!

"Waiting in his Banking-house the result of my application, he condescended to stalk forth from the holy of holies, his inner room, with the lofty demeanour of conscious importance, when, in the presence of his Clerks and others, doubtless to their great edification and amus.e.m.e.nt, the following colloquy ensued, bearing in his hand my unlucky Prospectus, with a respectful epistle which had accompanied it:--

"Are you the writer," he asked in a majesterial tone, "of this here letter?"

"I am, Sir W*****m, unfortunately!"

"Then," he continued, "you may take them there papers back again, I have no time to read Prospectuses, and so Mister Poet my compliments, and good morning to you!!!"

"These literally were his words; and such was the astounding effect they produced on my mind, that, although I had meant to have pa.s.sed through the Royal Exchange, I yet, in the depth of my reverie, wandered I knew not where, and, before recovering my recollection, found myself in the centre of London Bridge!"

~349~~ The detail of this fact, so characteristic of rude, ungentlemanly manners, and the barbarian ignorance of this great man of little soul, excited against him, with Dashall and his friend, a mingled feeling of ridicule, contempt and reprobation!

"Real Life in London still!" exclaimed Talltho; "intellect and indigence in a garret, and wealth and ignorance in a banking-house!--I would at least have given him, in deficiency of other means, the wholesome castigation of reproof."

"I did," said the Poet, "stung to the quick by such unmerited contumely, I retired to my attic, and produced a philippic named the Recantation: I cannot accommodate you at present with a copy of the Poem, but the concluding stanzas I can repeat from memory:--