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Project Gutenberg's Manners & Cvftoms of ye Englyfhe, by Richard Doyle
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: Manners & Cvftoms of ye Englyfhe
Drawn from ye Qvick
Author: Richard Doyle
Release Date: October 13, 2011 [EBook #37745]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MANNERS & CVFTOMS OF YE ENGLYFHE ***
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<div class="figcenter" style="width: 286px;">
<a href="images/00covera.jpg">
<img src="images/00cover.jpg" width="286" height="500" alt="Cover" title="" />
</a>
<br />
</div>
<h1><i>MANNERS & CUSTOMS OF YE ENGLYSHE</i></h1>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<br />
<br />
<a href="images/003a.png">
<img src="images/003.png" width="400" height="372" alt="Manners & Cvftoms of ye Englyfhe Drawn from ye Qvick" title="" />
</a>
<br /><br />
</div>
<p class="center"><span class="smcap">by</span><big> RICHARD DOYLE</big><br /><br /></p>
<p class="center">WITH EXTRACTS FROM<br /><br />
<big><big><b>MR. PIPS HIS DIARY</b></big></big><br /><br />
<span class="smcap">by</span><big> PERCIVAL LEIGH</big><br /><br /></p>
<p class="center">T·N·FOULIS<br />
London & Edinburgh<br />
1911<br /><br /></p>
<p class="center"><i>The publisher has to acknowledge his indebtedness
to Messrs. Bradbury, Agnew, & Co. Ltd., the
publishers of the original edition of this work,
for permission kindly granted to include in this
new edition several copyright pictures with their
accompanying text.</i><br /><br /></p>
<p class="center"><i>November 1911</i><br /><br /></p>
<p class="center"><i>Printed by </i><span class="smcap">Morrison & Gibb Limited</span>, <i>Edinburgh</i></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><a name="CONTENTS_OF_YE_VOLUME" id="CONTENTS_OF_YE_VOLUME"></a>CONTENTS OF YE VOLUME.</h2>
<div class="center">
<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="2" summary="">
<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="right"><b>Page</b></td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#YE_CONTRIBUTOR_HYS_PREFACE"><i>Ye Contributor hys Preface</i></a></td><td align="right">vii</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_A_CIDERE_CELLARE_DURING_A"><i>A Cydere Cellare duryng a Comyck Songe</i></a></td><td align="right">1</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_AN_AT_HOME_YE_POLKA"><i>An "At Home." Ye Polka</i></a></td><td align="right">3</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_YE_FASHONABLE_WORLDE_TAYKNGE"><i>Ye Fashonable Worlde in Hyde Parke</i></a></td><td align="right">5</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_A_DRAWYNGE_ROOM_DAY_SAYNTE"><i>A Drawynge Room Day</i></a></td><td align="right">7</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_SMYTHFIELD_CATTLE_MARKETE"><i>Smythfield Cattle Markete</i></a></td><td align="right">9</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_A_FEW_FRIENDS_TO_TEA_AND"><i>A Few Friends to Tea, and a Lyttle Musyck</i></a></td><td align="right">11</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_YE_NATIONAL_SPORTE_OF"><i>Ye National Sporte!!! of Steeple Chasynge</i></a></td><td align="right">13</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_YE_COMMONS_RESSOLVED_INTO"><i>Ye Commons ressolved into a Commytte</i></a></td><td align="right">15</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_YE_PUBLIC_ITS_EXCYTEMENTE_ON_YE"><i>Ye Public its Excytemente on ye Appearance of Miss Lind</i></a></td><td align="right">17</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_A_PROSPECT_OF_EXETER_HALL_SHOWYNGE"><i>A Prospect of Exeter Hall</i></a></td><td align="right">19</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_YE_EXHYBITYON_AT_YE_ROYAL"><i>Ye Exhybityon at ye Royal Academye</i></a></td><td align="right">21</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_A_VIEW_OF_EPSOM_DOWNES_ON_YE"><i>A View of Epsom Downes on ye Derbye Daye</i></a></td><td align="right">23</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_A_PROSPECT_OF_GREENWICH_FAIR"><i>A Prospect of Greenwich Fair</i></a></td><td align="right">25</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_KENSYNGTON_GARDENS_WITH_YE"><i>Kensyngton Gardens with ye Bande Playinge there</i></a></td><td align="right">27</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_HYGHEST_COURT_OF_LAW_IN_YE_KYNGDOM"><i>Ye Hyghest Court of Law in ye Kyngdom</i></a></td><td align="right">29</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_THE_FLOWER_SHOWE_AT_CHYSYK"><i>Ye Flower Showe at Chysyk Gardens</i></a></td><td align="right">31</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_SOCYETYE_ENJOYINGE_ITSELFE_AT"><i>"Socyetye" enjoyinge itselfe at a Soyrée</i></a></td><td align="right">33</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_A_VIEW_OF_MR_LORDE_HYS_CRYKET"><i>A View of Mr. Lorde hys Cryket Grounde</i></a></td><td align="right">35</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_A_RAYLWAYE_MEETYNGE_EMOTYON"><i>A Raylwaye Meetynge</i></a></td><td align="right">37</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_A_PROSPECT_OF_YE_THAMES_ITS"><i>A Prospect of ye Thames its Regatta</i></a></td><td align="right">39</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_A_RAYLWAY_STATYON_SHOWYNGE"><i>A Raylway Statyon</i></a></td><td align="right">41</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_YE_BRYTYSH_GRANADIERS_AMOUNTYNGE"><i>Ye Brytysh Granadiers amountynge Guard</i></a></td><td align="right">43</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_A_PROSPECT_OF_A_FASHYONABLE"><i>A Prospect of a Fashyonable Haberdasher hys Shope</i></a></td><td align="right">45</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_REGENTE_STRETE_AT_FOUR_OF_YE"><i>Regente Streete at Four of ye Clocke p.m.</i></a></td><td align="right">47</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_BLACKWALL_SHOWYNGE_YE_PUBLICK"><i>Blackwall</i></a></td><td align="right">49</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_YE_SPORT_OF_PUNTE_FYSHYNGE_OFF"><i>Ye Sporte of Punte Fyshynge off Rychmonde</i></a></td><td align="right">51</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_TRYCKS_OF_YE_LONDON_TRADE"><i>Trycks of ye London Trade</i></a></td><td align="right">53</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_MADAME_TUSSAUD_HER_WAX_WERKES"><i>Madame Tussaud her Wax Werkes</i></a></td><td align="right">55</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_DEERE_STALKYNGE_IN_YE_HYGHLANDES"><i>Deere Stalkynge in ye Hyghlandes</i></a></td><td align="right">57</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_A_PROSPECT_OF_AN_ELECTION"><i>A Prospect of an Election</i></a></td><td align="right">59</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_A_PARTIE_OF_SPORTSMEN_OUT_A"><i>A Partie of Sportsmen out a Shutynge</i></a></td><td align="right">61</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_YE_WYNE_VAULTS_AT_YE_DOCKS"><i>Ye Wyne Vaults at ye Docks</i></a></td><td align="right">63</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_A_WEDDYNGE_BREAKFASTE"><i>A Weddynge Breakfaste</i></a></td><td align="right">65</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_A_THEATRE_SHOWYNGE_YE_HOUSE"><i>A Theatre. Ye House amused by ye Comycke Actor</i></a></td><td align="right">67</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_A_PROSPECTE_OF_YE_ZOOLOGICAL_SOCIETYE"><i>A Prospecte of ye Zoological Societye its Gardens</i></a></td><td align="right">69</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_WESTMINSTER_HALL_SHOWYNGE_YE"><i>Westminster Hall</i></a></td><td align="right">71</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_A_PROSPECTE_OF_YE_5TH_OF_NOVEMBER"><i>A Prospecte of ye 5th of November</i></a></td><td align="right">73</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_A_BANQUET_SHOWYNGE_YE_FARMERS"><i>A Banquet of ye Agricultural Interest</i></a></td><td align="right">75</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_APPEARANCE_OF_YE_CRYMYNYAL"><i>Ye Appearance of ye Crymynyal Courte</i></a></td><td align="right">77</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_A_PROMENADE_CONCERTE"><i>A Promenade Concerte</i></a></td><td align="right">79</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_YE_SERPENTYNE_DURING_A_HARD"><i>Ye Serpentyne during a Hard Frost</i></a></td><td align="right">81</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_A_FASHIONABLE_CLUB_FOUR"><i>A Fashionable Club. Four o'clock p.m.</i></a></td><td align="right">83</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_THE_CIRCUS_AT_ASTLEYS"><i>The Circus at Astley's</i></a></td><td align="right">85</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_YE_FATHERS_OF_YE_CHURCHE_GYVING"><i>Ye Fathers of ye Churche gyving Judgmente</i></a></td><td align="right">87</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_A_JUVENILE_PARTYE"><i>A Juvenile Partye</i></a></td><td align="right">89</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_GRANDE_REVIEW"><i>A Grande Review</i></a></td><td align="right">91</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_A_PIC-NIC"><i>A Pic-nic</i></a></td><td align="right">93</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_VAUXHALL"><i>Vauxhall</i></a></td><td align="right">95</td></tr>
<tr><td align="left"><a href="#Illustration_A_SCIENTIFIC_INSTITUTION"><i>A Scientific Institution</i></a></td><td align="right">97</td></tr>
</table></div>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2>YE CONTRIBUTOR HYS PREFACE
<a name="YE_CONTRIBUTOR_HYS_PREFACE" id="YE_CONTRIBUTOR_HYS_PREFACE"></a>
</h2>
<p class="chapter"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span>
Suppose the great-grandfather of anybody
could step down from his picture-frame and stalk
abroad, his descendant would be eager to hear his opinion of the
world we live in. Most of us would like to know what the men of
the <i>Past</i> would say of the <i>Present</i>. If some old philosopher, for
instance <span class="smcap">Socrates</span>, exchanging robes for modern clothes, lest he
should be followed by the boys and taken up by the police, could
revisit this earth, walk our streets, see our sights, behold the scenes
of our political and social life, and, contemplating this bustling
age through the medium of his own quiet mind, set down his observations
respecting us and our usages, he would write a work,
no doubt, very interesting to her <span class="smcap">Majesty's</span> subjects.</p>
<p>It would answer the purpose of a skilful literary enchanter to
"unsphere the spirit of <span class="smcap">Plato</span>," or that of <span class="smcap">Pythagoras</span>, <span class="smcap">Aristotle</span>,
or any other distinguished sage of antiquity, and send it
out on its rambles with a commission to take, and report, its views
of things in general. But such necromancy would have tasked
even the Warlock of the North, would puzzle the wizard of any
point of the compass, and, it is probable, could be cleverly achieved
by no adept inferior to the ingenious <span class="smcap">Mr. Shakspeare</span>.</p>
<p>However, there flourished in a somewhat later day a philosopher,
for such he was after his fashion, a virtuoso, antiquary, and
<i>F.R.S.</i>, whose ghost an inconsiderable person may perhaps attempt
to raise without being accused of pretending to be too much
of a conjuror. He appears to have been a <i>Peripatetic</i>, at least
until he could keep a coach, but on the subjects of dress, dining,
and some others, his opinions favour strongly of <i>Epicurism</i>. A
little more than a hundred and eighty years ago he employed his
leisure in going about everywhere, peeping into everything, seeing
all that he could, and chronicling his experiences daily. In his
<i>Diary</i>, which happily has come down to our times, the historical
facts are highly valuable, the comments mostly sensible, the style
is very odd, and the autobiography extremely ludicrous. I have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span>
adventured reverently to evoke this worshipful gentleman, that, resuming
his old vocation as a journalist, he might comment on the
"<i>Manners and Customs of ye Englyshe</i>," in the name of <span class="smcap">Mr. Pips</span>.
I hope his shadow, if not his spirit, may be recognised in the following
pages.</p>
<p class="right">
PERCIVAL LEIGH.<br />
</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_A_CIDERE_CELLARE_DURING_A" id="Illustration_A_CIDERE_CELLARE_DURING_A"></a>
<a href="images/009a.png">
<img src="images/009.png" width="400" height="237" alt="A CIDERE CELLARE DURING A COMICK SONGE." title="" /></a>
<h2>A CIDERE CELLARE DURING A
COMICK SONGE.</h2>
</div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Saturday</span>, <i>March 10, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">To Drury Lane this Evening, to see the
Horsemanship, which did divert me mightily; but had rather it
had been at Astley's, which is the fitter Place for it. After that, to
Supper at the Cider Cellars in Maiden Lane, wherein was much
Company, great and small, and did call for Kidneys and Stout,
then a small Glass of <i>Aqua-Vitæ</i> and Water, and thereto a Cigar.
While we supped, the Singers did entertain us with Glees and Comical
Ditties; but Lack, to hear with how little Wit the young
Sparks about Town are tickled! But the Thing that did most take
me was to see and hear one Ross sing the Song of <span class="smcap">Sam Hall</span> the
Chimney-Sweep, going to be hanged: for he had begrimed his
Muzzle to look unshaven, and in rusty black Clothes, with a battered
old Hat on his Crown and a short Pipe in his Mouth, did sit
upon the Platform, leaning over the Back of a Chair: so making
believe that he was on his way to Tyburn. And then he did sing
to a dismal Psalm-Tune, how that his Name was <span class="smcap">Sam Hall</span>, and
that he had been a great Thief, and was now about to pay for all
with his Life; and thereupon he swore an Oath which did make
me somewhat shiver, though divers laugh. Then, in so many Verses,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span>
how his Master had badly taught him and now he must hang
for it; how he should ride up Holborn Hill in a Cart, and the
Sheriffs would come, and then the Parson, and preach to him, and
after them would come the Hangman; and at the End of each
Verse he did repeat his Oath. Last of all, how that he should go
up to the Gallows; and desired the Prayers of his Audience, and
ended by cursing them all round. Methinks it had been a Sermon
to a Rogue to hear him, and I wish it may have done good to some
of the Company. Yet was his cursing very horrible, albeit to not
a few it seemed a high Joke; but I do doubt that they understood
the Song and did only relish the Oaths. Strange to think what a
Hit this Song of <span class="smcap">Sam Hall</span> hath made, and how it hath taken the
Town, and how popular it is not only among Tavern Haunters and
Frequenters of Night Houses, but also with the Gentry and Aristocracy
who do vote it a Thing that ought to be heard though a
blackguard, and look in at the Cider Cellars Night by Night after
Dinner at their Clubs to hear it sung. After <span class="smcap">Sam Hall</span>, to pay for
my Supper, which cost me 2s. 2d., besides 4d. to the Waiter; and
then Home in a Cab, it being late, and I fearing to anger my Wife,
which cost me 2s. more; but I grudged not the Money, having
been much diverted, and so to Bed.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_AN_AT_HOME_YE_POLKA" id="Illustration_AN_AT_HOME_YE_POLKA"></a>
<a href="images/011a.png">
<img src="images/011.png" width="400" height="343" alt="AN "AT HOME." YE POLKA." title="" />
</a>
<h2>AN "AT HOME." YE POLKA.</h2>
</div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Wednesday</span>, <i>March 21st, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">To-night to an Evening Party with my Wife,
to <span class="smcap">Sir Hilary Jinks's</span>, whereunto we had been bidden to come
at 10 of the Clock; for <span class="smcap">Sir Hilary</span> and her Ladyship have taken
to keeping rare Hours. Thereat was a goodly Company of about
an hundred, and the Women all very fine, my Wife in her last
Year's Gown, which I am tired of, and do hate to see. But did not
tell her that, knowing she would have said how soon I might rid
me of that Objection. We did fall to dancing Quadrilles, wherein
I made one, and had for my Partner a pretty little black Damsel,
whom after the Dance was ended, did hand to a Sofa, and
thereon sit me by her Side; but seeing my Wife looking hard at
us, did presently make my Bow, and go away. And, my Wife seated
by the Wall, to walk about the Room, and speak with such as
I thought like to tell me Something worth hearing, but told me
Nothing I cared to hear, they all shunning to talk, and in their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span>
white Ties, and Waistcoats, and Kid Gloves, starch, and constrained,
and ill at Ease, which was ridiculous. Then to look on while
some did dance the Polka, which did please me not much, for had
beheld it better danced at the <i>Casino</i>, and do think it more suitable
to such a Place than to a Drawing Room. The Young Fellows
did take their Partners by the Waist, and these did lean upon
the other's Shoulders, and with one Arm stretched out, and holding
Hand in Hand, they did spin round the Room together. But,
Lack! to see the kicking up of Heels and stamping of them on the
Ground, which did mightily remind me of <i>Jim Crow</i>. In Truth, I
am told that the Polka is but a Peasant's Hop, from Hungary,
and to think now of Persons of Quality cutting such Capers! <span class="smcap">Sir
Hilary</span> to his Taste; but a Minuet for me at Home, with Gentlewomen,
and a Polka with Milkmaids at a Maying or Show Girls
in a Booth. Meanwhile the Servants did hand round Glasses of
Negus, which was poor Stuff; and those who listed to Supper when
they chose, in a side Room, off wretched Sandwiches of the Size
of the Triangles of <span class="smcap">Euclid</span> his <i>Geometry</i>, which did think shabby.
Expected Chicken and Lobster Salad, with Champagne, and Oysters
and Ale and Stout, but disappointed. Home in a Cab, at Two
in the Morning, much wearied and little pleased; and on our Way
Home, spying a Tavern open, did go and get me a Pint of Beer,
and the same to my Wife; for we were both athirst, and she in an
ill Humour about the Beauty I had danced with, and I because
of the bad Supper; and so very ill-contented to Bed.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_YE_FASHONABLE_WORLDE_TAYKNGE" id="Illustration_YE_FASHONABLE_WORLDE_TAYKNGE"></a>
<a href="images/013a.png">
<img src="images/013.png" width="400" height="328" alt="YE FASHONABLE WORLDE TAYKNGE
ITS EXERCYSE IN HYDE PARKE." title="" />
</a>
<h2>YE FASHONABLE WORLDE TAYKNGE
ITS EXERCYSE IN HYDE PARKE.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Tuesday</span>, <i>March 27th, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">This Day to the Ring in Hyde Park for a
Walk to get me an Appetite, and look at the fine Folks and People
of Fashion riding in their carriages, which it do much delight
me to behold. But, good Lack! what a strange Notion of the Pleasure
of a Drive; with the Carriages in a close Line jammed all together,
and sometimes coming to a dead Stop like the Omnibuses
in Fleet Street of an Afternoon, and seldom moving on faster than
Mourning Coaches at a Funeral. Did see many mighty pretty
young Ladies; and one sitting in a Landau with a Coronet on the
Panel, upon whom I did smile, but perceiving that she did turn up
her Nose at me, I did look glum; howbeit, another comely Damsel
that I smiled at did blush and simper, which gave me Joy. It
was as good as a Play to watch the young Guardsmen, with their
Tufts and Mustaches, riding straight-legged, and them and the
other Bucks taking off their Hats and kissing their Hands to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span>
charming Belles as they passed them by. But it was rarer still to
behold a Snob that strove to do the same Sort of Thing, and did
get laughed at for his Pains. Then what Sport to observe the fat
Coachmen, in their Wigs, something like Bishops', sitting on their
Boxes, and the Footmen behind with their parti-coloured Liveries
of drab and green, and red and yellow Plush, and gold-laced Hats,
Shoulderknots and Cockades, bearing their Canes, and their Noses
to the Sky, holding their Heads as high as Peacocks for Pride in
their Frippery and plump Calves! These Fellows are as fine as
Court Cards, and full as Ridiculous, and they do divert me in the
Extreme: only their bepowdered Pates do offend me, for I think
the Fashion an uncleanly one; and after all, I wonder how their
Masters and Mistresses can delight in dressing them out so much
like Mountebanks. Did note divers Noble Lords and Gentlemen
of the House of Commons whom I did know either by Sight or
from the Caricatures in the Shop-Windows. From four to five o'Clock
around the Ring and up and down by the Serpentine to
make my observations. Methought how jolly these fine People
must be, and how happy they looked compared to a Beggar Boy
whom I did spy squatting on the Grass: yet no Doubt many of
them have Troubles enough, and some may be even short of Cash
to pay for their Vanities. After that, to the Corner, by the Powder
Magazine, nigh to Kensington Gardens, to see the Company alight
from their Carriages, and take an Inventory of the Ladies'
Dresses, whereof to furnish an Account to my Wife. Then away
home at half-past Five, and so to Dinner off a Shoulder of Mutton
and Onion-Sauce, which my Wife doth make exceeding well, and
my Dinner did content me much; and thereupon I did promise
my Wife a new Bonnet, the Like whereof I had seen on a Countess
in the Park, and so both in great Good Humour, and very loving
all the Evening.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_A_DRAWYNGE_ROOM_DAY_SAYNTE" id="Illustration_A_DRAWYNGE_ROOM_DAY_SAYNTE"></a>
<a href="images/015a.png">
<img src="images/015.png" width="400" height="324" alt="A DRAWYNGE ROOM DAY. SAYNTE
JAMES HYS STREETE." title="" />
</a>
<h2>A DRAWYNGE ROOM DAY. SAYNTE JAMES HYS STREETE.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Thursday</span>, <i>March 29th, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">To see the Nobility and Gentry, and other
great Company, go to the <span class="smcap">Queen's</span> Drawing-Room, with a Friend
to St. James's Street, where did stand in Front of <span class="smcap">Boodle's</span> Club-House
in the Rain, which was heavy, and spoiled my Paris Hat,
cost me twelve Shillings. But the Sight of the Show almost worth
the Damage; for the Red and Blue Uniforms of the Army and
Navy Officers with their Orders on their Breasts, and their Cocked
Hats and Plumes in their Laps, and the Ladies of Quality in
their Silks and Satins of all Manner of Colours, and their Hair
crowned with Ostrich Feathers, and sparkling with Pearls and Diamonds,
did much delight me to behold. But I wish I could have
had as good a View of the Gentlefolks within the Carriages as I
had of the Lackeys outside, who, with their supercilious Airs, and
their Jackanapes Garb, did divert me more than ever. I do continually
marvel at the enormous Calves of those Varlets, for which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>
one might almost think they were reared, like a sort of Cattle. Indeed,
I should have believed that their Stockings were stuffed, if
I had not seen one of them wince when a Horse chanced to lay
hold of his Leg. It did more and more amaze me to observe how
high they carried their Noses, especially as most of them had Posies
in their bosoms; whereas they looked as though, instead, there
were some unsavoury Odour beneath their Nostrils. But much
as the Servants resembled Zanies and Harlequins, yet did some
of their Masters look not much better; being dressed in a Court
Suit, which methinks do make a Gentleman seem a sort of embroidered
Quaker. I do greatly wonder why the ugliest Apparel
of any Date in English History should be pitched upon for the
Court Dress. But the splendid Carriages painted with Coats of
Arms, and the stately caparisoned Horses, did make a rare Show;
and among them mighty droll to mark the Hack Cabs not suffered
to enter at the Palace Gate; so the Fares had to alight and
walk on foot the Rest of the Way to the Drawing-Room: and so
into the Presence of Her <span class="smcap">Majesty</span> in dirty Boots: which was not
seemly; but many of them are Half Pay Officers, and other poor
Subjects, who could afford no better than a Cab. Pleased to see
the Police with their Truncheons, keeping Order among the Vagabonds,
till one did tell me to move on, which did vex me. Then
there were the Guards, in full Uniform on Horseback, with their
Helmets on their Heads and their Swords drawn, about one under
each Lamp Post, mounting Guard, and I believe this is the heaviest
Part of their Duty. What with the blazing Uniforms and glittering
Jewels, my Eyes were dazzled and my Head did somewhat
ache; moreover, some pretty Faces put my Heart in a Flutter,
which did not think fit to mention to my Wife. Methinks how fine
it would be to ride in State to Court, if it were not so chargeable,
and I should much delight in the Honour and Glory of the Thing,
but not like the Expense. A Drawing-Room doth altogether eclipse
the <span class="smcap">Lord Mayor's</span> Show; although it do seem but a Toy
and gilt Gingerbread Affair, and an empty, childish Display, like
the Babies' Game of King and Queen; but then it hath certainly
this Advantage, that it do much good to Trade.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_SMYTHFIELD_CATTLE_MARKETE" id="Illustration_SMYTHFIELD_CATTLE_MARKETE"></a>
<a href="images/017a.png">
<img src="images/017.png" width="400" height="322" alt="SMYTHFIELD CATTLE MARKETE." title="" />
</a>
<h2>SMYTHFIELD CATTLE MARKETE.</h2>
</div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Monday</span>, <i>April 9th, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">Up betimes, it being scarcely Light, to
Smithfield, to see the Cattle Market, which I do think a great Disgrace
to the City, being so nasty, filthy, and dangerous a Place in
the very Heart of London. I did observe the Manner of driving
the Beasts together, used by the Drovers, which did disgust me.
To force the Oxen into their Places, they have stout Cudgels,
pointed with iron Goads or Prods, wherewith they thrust the Creatures
in the flesh of their Hind Quarters, or with the Cudgel belabour
them on the Hock. These means failing, they do seize the
Animal's Tail and give it a sudden Wrench with a Turn of the
Wrist, whereby they snap the Tail-bone, and so twist and wring the
spinal Cord till he pushes forward as far as they would have him.
Some, not getting Room for the Beasts in the Pens, do drive them
into Circles called Ring Droves, with their hind Parts outwards,
and their Heads forced as close as may be together: this done by
beating them with all their Might about the Head and Eyes, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>
between the Horns, which they do call pething them. Then to see
how they crowd the Sheep into the Pens by dogging them as their
Word is, which means baiting them with Dogs that do tear the
Sheeps' Eyes, Ears, and Cheeks, until they worry such Numbers
in, that not one can budge an Inch. All this Cruelty is caused by
the Market not being big enough: for which Reason they are obliged
to force the unlucky Brutes into the smallest possible Space.
What with the Oaths and Curses of the Drovers and Butchers and
the Barking of their Dogs and the Cries of the Animals in Torture,
I do think I never heard a more horrid Din in my Life. The Hearing
was as bad as the Seeing, and both as bad as could be, except
the Smell, which was worse than either. But to be sure it was good
Sport to see here and there a fat Grazier overthrown by a Pig running
between his Legs, and so upsetting him in the Mire. It were
well if it were never worse; but with mad Oxen driven from the
Market through Streets full of People, it continually happens that
some Person is tossed and gored, and one of these Days it will be
an Alderman, and then Smithfield will be put an End to. No doubt
it would have been done away with long ago, but for the Tolls and
Dues which the Corporation do derive from the Market. This is
why they do keep up a Nuisance which did well nigh poison me;
though one of them at a Meeting did declare that he thought
Smithfield salubrious, and did send his Children to walk there for
Change of Air, which if it were for the better, methinks that Gentleman's
Dwelling-House should be a sweet Abode. All but the
Citizens do say that Parliament ought to abolish this Nuisance;
but it is thought that my <span class="smcap">Lord John</span> dare not stir in the Matter,
because he is Member for the City. To Breakfast to an Early Coffee
House, having lost my Pocket Handkerchief, cost me 5s.,
doubtless by the Pickpockets, of whom Smithfield, besides its other
Recommendations, is a great Resort. But content, not having
had an Ox's Horn in my Stomach, and having seen all I wanted,
and do not wish to see any more.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_A_FEW_FRIENDS_TO_TEA_AND" id="Illustration_A_FEW_FRIENDS_TO_TEA_AND"></a>
<a href="images/019a.png">
<img src="images/019.png" width="400" height="316" alt="A FEW FRIENDS TO TEA, AND A LYTTLE MUSYCK." title="" />
</a>
<h2>A FEW FRIENDS TO TEA, AND A LYTTLE MUSYCK.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Tuesday</span>, <i>April 17, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">To <span class="smcap">Mr. Jiggins's</span>, where my Wife and I were
invited to Tea and a little Musique, but we had much Musique
and little Tea, though the Musique was like the Tea in Quality,
and I do prefer a stronger Kind of Musique as well as Liquor.
Yet it was pleasing enough to the Ear to hear the fashionable Ballads,
and the Airs from all the New Italian Operas sung by the
young Ladies; which, though they expressed Nothing but common-place
Love and Sentiment, yet were a pretty Sing-Song.
But to see the young Fellows whilst a Beauty was singing crowd
round her, and bend over her Shoulders, and almost scramble to
turn over the Leaves of her Musique Book! Besides the Singing,
there was Playing of the Piano Forte, with the Accompaniment of
a Fiddle and Bass Violl, the Piano being played by a stout fat Lady
with a Dumpling Face; but for all her being so fat it did amaze
me to see how nimbly she did fillip the Keys. They did call this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>
Piece a Concerto, and I was told it was mighty brilliant; but when
I asked what Fancy, Passion, or Description there was in it, no
one could tell; and I verily thought the Brilliancy like that of a
Paste Buckle. It had not even an Air to carry away and whistle,
and would have pleased me just as well if I had stopped my Ears,
for I could discern Nothing in it but Musical Sleight of Hand.
But good Lack! to think how, in these Days, Execution is Everything
in Musique, and Composition little or Nothing: for almost
no Account is made of the Master, and a preposterous Value put
upon the Player, or artiste, as the Frenchified Phrase now is! After
the Concerto, some Polkas and Waltzes, which did better please
me; for they were a lively Jingle certainly, and not quite unmeaning.
Strange, to find how rare a Thing good Musique is in Company;
and by good Musique I mean such as do stir up the Soul,
like the Flowers and Sunshine in Spring, or Storms and Tempests,
or ghostly Imaginations, or the thought of great Deeds, or tender
or terrible Passages in Poetry. My Wife do play some brave
Pieces in this Kind, by <span class="smcap">Mynheer Van Beethoven</span>, and I would
rather hear her perform one of them, than all I did hear to-Night
put together; and so I did tell her when we got Home, which did
content her well. But every one to his Taste; and they who delight
in the trivial Style of Musique to theirs, as I to mine, not
doubting that the English, that have but just begun to be sensible
to Musique at all, will be awake to the nobler Sort of it by-and-by.
And, at any Rate, an Evening of insipid Musique and
weak Tea is better than sitting toping and guzzling after Dinner.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_YE_NATIONAL_SPORTE_OF" id="Illustration_YE_NATIONAL_SPORTE_OF"></a>
<a href="images/021a.png">
<img src="images/021.png" width="400" height="318" alt="YE NATIONAL SPORTE!!! OF
STEEPLE CHASYNGE." title="" />
</a>
<h2>YE NATIONAL SPORTE!!! OF
STEEPLE CHASYNGE.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Monday</span>, <i>April 23, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">Down the Road to a Steeple Chase, which
I had never seen before, and did much long to behold: for of
all Things I do love Diversion and Merriment; and both <span class="smcap">Mr.
Strappes</span> and <span class="smcap">Sir William Spurkins</span> did tell me there would be
rare Sport. Got a Place in the Grand Stand, cost me half-a-Guinea,
which was loth to part with, but thought I should have brave Entertainment
for so much Money. Did find myself here in fine Company,
Dukes, and Earls, and Lords and Ladies too, which did
please me; but among them some Snobs, in Stable-cut-Clothes,
with spotted Neckcloths and Fox-headed Breast-pins; though
some of these were Lords too, who seemed to have been at Pains
to look like Ostlers. To see the Crowd on Horseback and in Carriages,
and those on Foot pushing and scrambling, and trampling
each other to get a Sight of the Course, as if there had been going
to be a Coronation, or a Man hanged! The Course, marked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>
out with Flags, and having Hurdles, Posts, Fences, Rails, Hedges,
Drains, Ditches, and Brooks in the Way; and this Sportsmen do
call the Country, and say such a Country is a Teaser, and so I
should think. By-and-by Jockies in their Saddles, but their word
is Pig-skins, looking, in their gay Colours, like Tulips on Horseback,
which was a pretty Sight. Then a Bell rung to clear the
Course, and the Horses with their Riders drawn up ready to start,
and presently a Flag flourished for a Signal: and so they off. Good
Lack, to see them galloping helter-skelter, like mad, through Rivers,
and over Hedges and Ditches, and the whole Thing done in
ten Minutes! Some did jump the Fences and Hedges, which they
about me did term Raspers, clean over; but others not so lucky,
and stuck in Brambles or on Stakes, or between double Rows of
Posts, with a Quickset in the Middle, whereof the cant name is
Bullfinchers. Others upset in Ditches; and one or two of them
not able to get up again, and carried away upon some of the Hurdles;
and when the Race was over, three Horses found lying with
their Backs broken, and so shot. <span class="smcap">Sir William</span> did inform me that
it was a tidy Field, which I could not agree, with the Raspers and
Palisades upon it, and the Horses spiked, or sprawling with their
Riders on the Ground with broken Backs and Limbs. Nor did I
understand the Fun of this Part of the Thing; wherefore I suppose
I must be dull; for it do seem to be the chief Delight that People
take in it. For, as if the Gates and Rails belonging to the Ground
were not dangerous enough, they do set up others called made
Fences, being stubborn Posts and Stakes twisted with Briars and
Brambles, which do seem to be meant for Nothing but to be tumbled
over, and in that Case to do as much Mischief, as may be,
to Man and Beast. The Horses mostly ridden by Jockeys for
Hire; but some by their Owners, who, methinks, do set a sufficient
Value upon their own Existence when they venture their
Necks in riding a Steeple Chase; but I do blame them for risking
the Life of a useful Horse.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_YE_COMMONS_RESSOLVED_INTO" id="Illustration_YE_COMMONS_RESSOLVED_INTO"></a>
<a href="images/023a.png">
<img src="images/023.png" width="400" height="311" alt="YE COMMONS RESSOLVED INTO
A COMMYTTE OF YE WHOLE HOUSE." title="" />
</a>
<h2>YE COMMONS RESSOLVED INTO
A COMMYTTE OF YE WHOLE HOUSE.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Friday</span>, <i>April 27, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">To the House of Commons, where an Irish Debate
on the Rate-in-Aid Bill, which did make me drowsy. The
House in Committee; the Irish Members moving all Sorts of frivolous
Amendments, abusing the Government, and quarrelling
among themselves. <span class="smcap">Sir H. Barron</span> did accuse <span class="smcap">Mr. Reynolds</span>
of being ready to Vote away other People's Money because he had
none of his own, and <span class="smcap">Mr. Reynolds</span> did say that he never saw
such Misery as on <span class="smcap">Sir H. Barron's</span> Estate; whereupon <span class="smcap">Sir H.
Barron</span> up in a Rage, and did deny the Fact with vehement Gestures,
flourishing his Fists gallantly. Then <span class="smcap">Mr. Reynolds</span> did fall
foul of <span class="smcap">Mr. Bateson</span>, one that had been a Captain, for questioning
the <span class="smcap">Chancellor of the Exchequer</span> concerning young <span class="smcap">Reynolds's</span>
Place; and did make a Joke upon <span class="smcap">Mr. Bateson's</span> Mustachios:
whereat much laughter. But a small Joke do go a great
Way in the House of Commons. Before the Debate, <span class="smcap">Lord John<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></span>
<span class="smcap">Russell</span> marching up one of the side Galleries, and taking the Measure
of the House through his Eye-Glass: a sharp delicate little
Man, with a mild Voice, but do carry himself stately. Methought
his Observations amused him, for he smirked a little, and looked
as if he knew the Customers he had to deal with. But to see him
and the <span class="smcap">Home Secretary</span> and the <span class="smcap">Chancellor of the Exchequer</span>
trying to persuade the Irish Members not to press their ridiculous
Motions to a Division, wheedling and coaxing them, as smiling
and civil as Haberdashers! The Bill to be reported to-morrow;
and then the House to a little ordinary Business; and <span class="smcap">Mr. Horsman's</span>
Bill postponed, through the Irish cavilling and squabbling.
Then a Debate on naming the Committee on Savings Banks; and
made an Irish Question too; the Dispute how many Irish Members
were to serve on the Committee: and the End, the Naming
of the Committee delayed. This Way of doing Business in the
House of Commons makes it no Wonder how little is done; and
the chief Cause is the Irish Members haranguing upon Nothing
and quarrelling about Straws, which do seem to me a childish
and spiteful Attempt to give Trouble to Government. I did hope
to hear a Speech from <span class="smcap">Sir Robert Peel</span>, but was disappointed,
which did vex me; but heard a few Words from <span class="smcap">Colonel Sibthorp</span>,
which made mighty Laughter, and were as sensible as any
Thing I heard all the Evening: and the Colonel in a brave Waistcoat,
with his droll Figure did divert me much. Last of all, a Settlement
of the Smithfield Committee: and I do wonder this became
not an Irish Matter too. The House adjourning at half-past One
in the Morning; and to see the Number of Members lying asleep
on the Gallery Benches! All this While Nothing whatever done
of more Importance than Parish Business at a Vestry. I off to
Supper in the Haymarket on pickled Salmon and Stout, cost me
1s. 6d., and then Home and to Bed, past 2 o'Clock, and my Wife do
say that the House of Commons keep worse Hours than any Tavern
in Town.></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_YE_PUBLIC_ITS_EXCYTEMENTE_ON_YE" id="Illustration_YE_PUBLIC_ITS_EXCYTEMENTE_ON_YE"></a>
<a href="images/025a.png">
<img src="images/025.png" width="400" height="315" alt="YE PUBLIC ITS EXCYTEMENTE ON YE
APPEARANCE OF MISS LIND." title="" />
</a>
<h2>YE PUBLIC ITS EXCYTEMENTE ON YE
APPEARANCE OF MISS LIND.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Saturday</span>, <i>May 5, 1849</i>.<br
/>
</p>
<p class="chapter">To the Queen's House in the Haymarket to
hear Jenny Lind, whom Everybody do call the Swedish Nightingale.
Did go with a Pit Ticket, cost me 8s. 6d., which is a mighty
Sum of Money to pay for only the Chance of a Seat. Went at
6 p.m., expecting a Crowd, and there a Mob of People already at
the Doors, and some did say they had come as early as Five. Got
as close as I could to the Pit Entrance, and the Throng increasing;
and by-and-by Ladies in their Opera Dresses standing without
their Bonnets in the Street. Many of them between the Carriage
Wheels and under the Horses' Heads: and methinks I did
never see more Carriages together in my Life. At last the Doors
open; which I began to fear they never would, and I in with the
Press, a most terrible Crush, and the Ladies screaming and their
Dresses torn in the Scramble, wherefore I thought it a good Job
that my Wife was not with me. With much ado into the Pit, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>
Way being stopped by a Snob in a green Jockey Coat and Bird's
Eye Neckcloth, that the Checktakers would not suffer to pass. The
Pit full in a Twinkling, and I fain to stand where I best might, nigh
to Fop's Alley: but presently a Lady fainting with the Heat and
carried out, which I glad of; I mean that I got her Place. I did
never behold so much Company in the House before; and every
Box full of Beauties, and hung with yellow Satin Curtains, did show
like a brave picture in a Gold Frame; which was very handsome
to look round upon while the Musicians were tuning. The Fiddles
tuned, and the Overture played, the Curtain up for the Opera;
which was the <i>Sonnambula</i>; the Part of <i>Amina</i> acted by <span class="smcap">Jenny</span>.
The moment she came on the Stage, the Audience, Lords, Ladies,
and all, upon their Legs, shouting, cheering, waving Hats and
Handkerchiefs, and clapping of Hands in white Kid Gloves. But
at last they silent, and let the Nightingale sing: and for certain she
is a wonderful Singer. It did amaze me to hear how easy and sweetly
she do trill and warble the most difficult Passages: and I perceive
she hath a rare Ability of Voice. But what did no less astonish
me was her Acting, it being as good as her singing; for she did
seem to forget herself in her Part, instead of her Part in herself;
which is the Mistake of most Opera Singers. To think that she
should draw the whole Town in Crowds together to hear her sing
a few pretty Sugar-plum Melodies and portray the Grief of a poor
Peasant Wench cast off by her Lover! But she do put a Grace and
Beauty of her own into the Character and Musique: which I take
to be the Mark of a true Genius. She made to sing divers Songs
twice over, and called upon the Stage at the End of the Act, and
again when the Opera was finished; when, good Lack, to see the
Nosegays and Posies flung in Heaps upon the Stage! She must
needs get a Mint of Money by her Singing; but she has spent a
Deal of it in building Hospitals, and I do wish (Heaven forgive
me!) I had all she has given away in Charity.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_A_PROSPECT_OF_EXETER_HALL_SHOWYNGE" id="Illustration_A_PROSPECT_OF_EXETER_HALL_SHOWYNGE"></a>
<a href="images/027a.png">
<img src="images/027.png" width="400" height="320" alt="A PROSPECT OF EXETER HALL. SHOWYNGE
A CHRISTIAN GENTLEMAN DENOUNCYNGE YE POPE." title="" />
</a>
<h2>A PROSPECT OF EXETER HALL. SHOWYNGE
A CHRISTIAN GENTLEMAN DENOUNCYNGE YE POPE.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Wednesday</span>, <i>May 9, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">Went this Morning to Exeter Hall, where
one of the May Meetings that do regularly take Place at this Time
of the Season, and serve in Lieu of Concerts and Shows to a Sort
of People that call themselves serious. This, one of the Meetings
of a Protestant Association, which I had heard much of and did
long to go to, expecting to hear some good Argument against the
Roman Catholiques. But instead of Argument, I did hear Nothing
but Abuse, which do always go in at one Ear and out at the other.
No new Point brought forward to confute Popery; but only an
Iteration of the Old Charges of Superstition and so forth, urged
with no greater Power than mere Strength of Lungs. The Commotions
on the Continent last Year laid much Stress on, and the
Turmoils in Catholique and Quiet in Protestant States contrasted,
as though there had been no Disturbance or Trouble in Prussia<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>
or Denmark, or any Tumult or Revolution in Belgium or Portugal.
I did note two chief Speakers, whom, on their rising, the Assembly
did applaud as if they had been Actors, and to be sure, they ranted
more frantically than I did ever see <span class="smcap">Hicks</span>. Yet at Times they
stooped to Drollery in the Height of their Passion, and one of them
did make such Sport of the Roman Catholique Religion as would
not have been suffered in the Adelphi Theatre. But I do find that
some who would not be seen in a Play-House can enjoy their laugh
at Exeter Hall. This Orator was a Clergyman of some Kind, for
he was called Reverend in the Hand-bill, and dressed in a clerical
Habit, but his Eyes and Face blazing with Wrath, did storm like
a Madman against the Maynooth Grant and the <span class="smcap">Pope of Rome</span>;
and howled as fierce as a Hyæna. The other a Clergyman too,
and looked as much like one, with his sneering angry Visage, and
did vehemently harangue, crying bitterly out on some of my Lords
and the Members of the Commons' House that had voted for Popish
Endowment. His Oration a medley of Sarcasm, Invective, and
Buffoonery, and wound up with a Flourish of Patriotism and Loyalty.
The Speeches received with Applause and Laughter, but also
with Interruptions and crying to turn Somebody out. The Speakers
on a Platform, whereon they bounced backwards and forwards, having
Rails in Front as if to hinder them from breaking loose on the
Audience. Behind them a Crowd of dainty smooth Gentlemen
in Black, with white Neckerchiefs, and to see how demure they
looked, as if Butter would not melt in their Mouths! In the Body
of the Hall a goodly Number of Heads, but by far the Most of
them in Bonnets. The two chief Speeches lasted an Hour and
a Half each, and the Chairman leaving his Seat, I away, my Head
aching through the Raving. Such Violence, methinks, do only
prove that there are other Bigots besides Papists; and is the worst
Means of enforcing any Truth; for they that speak in Anger and
Passion are commonly concluded by indifferent People to be in
the Wrong. The Society complaining of want of Funds, which I
do not wonder at, for I fear me the Subscribers have but few Catholiques
converted for their Money.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_YE_EXHYBITYON_AT_YE_ROYAL" id="Illustration_YE_EXHYBITYON_AT_YE_ROYAL"></a>
<a href="images/029a.png">
<img src="images/029.png" width="400" height="328" alt="YE EXHYBITYON AT YE ROYAL
ACADEMYE." title="" />
</a>
<h2>YE EXHYBITYON AT YE ROYAL
ACADEMYE.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Monday</span>, <i>May 21, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">This Morning with my Wife to the Exhibition
of the Royal Academy, where 611 Paintings, besides Miniatures
and other Drawings, and Pieces of Sculpture, making altogether
1341 Works of Art, and methought it would be strange if
there were not some Masterpiece among so many. The Whole to
be seen for the small Sum of 1s., and the Catalogue cost me 1s.
more, but should have known all the old Hands as well without
it. To see how easy it is to distinguish them by their Styles after
two or three Years' Experience: as one by his Dogs, that might
be expected to bark, or to talk rather, with their Looks and Ways
like Human Creatures. Then another by his Colouring that do
resemble a Mash of sweet Omelet with all the Colours of the Rainbow
and many more; which methinks is a strange Fancy; but now
he hath a Picture out of his trite Fashion; done after the Manner
of the antique Masters, and a good Imitation. A third also by his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>
unadorned Beauties with their glowing Eyes and Cheeks and
plump swarthy flesh, and a fourth by his never-ending Perspectives,
and Gulfs of Darkness, and Mountains of Blue. But this
year I do mark fewer of these old Acquaintances, and more of the
Works of younger Men, wherein there is less of Knack and more
of Freshness, which I do esteem a hopeful Sign. The Exhibition
at large I judge to be a very excellent middling one, many Pictures
good in their Kind, but that Kind in very few Cases high. The
Silks and Satins mostly painted to Admiration, and the Figures
copied carefully from the Model; but this do appear too plainly;
and the Action generally too much like a Scene in a Play. In the
historical Pictures the Characters dressed strictly in the Fashion
of their Time, but in the best of them a Lack of Fancy and Imagination,
though seeming original through a certain Quaintness
that do smack of Church-Window Saints and illuminated Missals.
The Landscapes better, and a most brave Morning on the Lake
of Zurich by one that hath the right Stuff in him, and some sweet
melancholy Shades and solemn Groves, and a Solitary Pool that
did please me mightily, and my Wife do say that the Artist should
be Commissioner of Woods and Forests. Some Pictures of common
Life pretty enough, and a little Crowd before a pleasant sentimental
one called the Duet. One or two droll ones, as the Slide,
and Drawing for the Militia, did make me laugh; but to think how
many Woodcuts as good as the best you can get in a little Miscellany
published weekly, cost you 3d. Fewer silly Portraits of
Gentlemen and Ladies than formerly, which is a Comfort. The
Pictures fairly enough hung, and strange to see a dead Lion between
<span class="smcap">Monsieur Guizot</span> and <span class="smcap">Prince Metternich</span>, as though
to represent absolute Monarchy, and seemed meant for a Joke.
Some Pictures in the Octagon Room, which could not tell whether
they were good or no for Want of Light, and the same with all the
Sculptures in their Lumber Hole. This is how we treat Art in this
Country, and with Paintings presented to the Nation buried in a
Vault, but sorry Encouragement is given to Genius; and no Wonder
that Artists do Pictures for Furniture to sell to the great and
small Vulgar, and so produce the Kind of Works that make up the
greater Part of the Exhibition.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_A_VIEW_OF_EPSOM_DOWNES_ON_YE" id="Illustration_A_VIEW_OF_EPSOM_DOWNES_ON_YE"></a>
<a href="images/031a.png">
<img src="images/031.png" width="400" height="330" alt="A VIEW OF EPSOM DOWNES ON YE
DERBYE DAYE." title="" />
</a>
<h2>A VIEW OF EPSOM DOWNES ON YE
DERBYE DAYE.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Wednesday</span>, <i>May 23, 1849</i>.—<span class="smcap">Derby Day.</span><br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">To Epsom Downs to the Great Derby Race. In
a Barouche, with a Party, over Vauxhall Bridge, and by Clapham,
carrying Hampers with Store of every Thing needful for a brave
Lunch. The Windows and House Fronts crowded, and School-Boys
mounted on Walls and Gates, and they and the Urchins in
the Street shouting, as though we were going to the Races for their
Amusement. But Lack! to see the pretty smart Damsels come
out to gaze at us, or peeping behind Blinds and Curtains, all in
high Glee, and good Humour do wonderfully heighten Beauty, as
I do tell my Wife. The Road through Trees and Orchards, and
the Sun shining through the young Leaves and on the Horse-Chestnut
Blossoms, and the Flowers looking bright like the Lasses.
So we on, till into the Ruck, which is the Jam of Carriages caused
by the Stoppage at the Turnpike: and did banter each other and
them about us. Across the Course to the Hill, the Admission cost<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>
us £1. Good Lack! what a Crowd of People collected to see which
out of six-and-twenty Horses should run the fastest, and what a
Medley of Vans, Omnibusses, and Taxed Carts on either Side
of the Course with the People in Front of them, and the Grand
Stand crowded with Heads, plenty as Blackberries, and seeming
like a huge Mass of them. A Throng of Carriages about us, whereon
young handsome rakish-looking Gallants with Mustaches and
Cigars. Here and there, in open Coaches, Ladies in lilac and blue
Dresses, and pink Bonnets, and gay Ribbons, all Manner of Colours,
looking, with the parti-coloured Flags over the Booths,
mighty lively. Presently a Bell rung and the Course cleared, but
then to see an unlucky Dog running to get out, and the Mob yelling
at him, and the poor Dog in his Fright rushing straight on like
mad! Then the Horses with the motley Jockies on them prancing
up and down before the Grand Stand, to show their Paces to the
Folks in the Betting Ring. At last, they taken to the Post, and so
started with much Cheering, and came easy round Tattenham
Corner; but presently away in good earnest, like Shot! The Chief
Struggle between the <i>Flying Dutchman</i> and <i>Hotspur</i>, but Yellow-Cap
did win by half a Length. The Winner declared by his Number,
hung out in Front of the Grand Stand, and to see the Flock
of Carrier Pigeons sent up to bear away the News; but <span class="smcap">Mr. Wagstaffe</span>
do say they were Nothing to the Pigeons left behind. The
Race run in three Minutes, but to think of the Money lost and won
in that little Time! My <span class="smcap">Lord Eglinton</span> and the Public, as I hear,
do gain much, and the Ring and Rogues do lose, which I am glad
of. After the Race to a brave Lunch; but the Gipsy Women and
Children did come and beg Morsels out of our Plates, which in
the Midst of all the Luxury was a sorry Sight. Then about the
Course to see the Company and the Flinging at Snuff-Boxes, and
the Thimble-Rig, and some playing at Roulette and Hazard, but
the Police did seize and break several of the Tables, and take away
the Stakes. Great Sport returning Home, with the Shouting for
the Winner, and trumpeting on Horns, and tossing of Snuff-Boxes
and Toys to the pretty Lasses at the Windows.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_A_PROSPECT_OF_GREENWICH_FAIR" id="Illustration_A_PROSPECT_OF_GREENWICH_FAIR"></a>
<a href="images/033a.png">
<img src="images/033.png" width="400" height="329" alt="A PROSPECT OF GREENWICH FAIR." title="" />
</a>
<h2>A PROSPECT OF GREENWICH FAIR.</h2>
</div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Tuesday</span>, <i>May 29, 1849</i>.—<span class="smcap">Whit-Tuesday</span>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">Down the River with <span class="smcap">Browne</span> to Greenwich
to view the Fair. To the Park, where young Fellows and Hoydens
at Archery, Donkey Riding, playing at Kiss-in-the-Ring, and running
down the Hill, romping, tripping, and tumbling over Head
and Heels, with Shouting, Screaming, and Laughter. Then down
to the Fair, made in a narrow Space in the Town by a Couple of
Rows of Booths and Sweet-Meat and Toy-Stalls, with Raree Shows
at the farther End, and Swings and Roundabouts on the Outside.
The Passage most insufferably crammed; and we having to force
our Way between Walls hung with Dolls and gilt Ginger-Bread.
The Stalls and Booths crowded also, and the Tobacco Smoke rising
from the Drinking Places like a Fog. Young Prentice Blades
and Shop-Boys pushing about with large Masquerade Noses, and
did entertain themselves more than me. But the chief Amusement
of these Roysterers and the frolicksome Wenches do seem
to be scratching People behind, with a Scraper, which is a notched<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>
Disk of Wood, that turns on an Axle in a Mortise, with a Handle
some six Inches long, and being dragged down a Man's Back,
do make him believe that his Coat is torn, as I thought mine was,
when first served so, which did trouble me. With this Noise of
continual Tearing, and the Squeaking of Tin Trumpets, and blowing
of Whistles, and half-a-dozen different Bands playing as many
Tunes, is altogether made a most discordant Musique; and the
Showmen bellowing to the Spectators to walk up, do increase the
Babel. Strange to see the Lads and Lasses, heaved up and down,
over and under, in the Swings, and to think what Pleasure they
can take in such a Motion, which methinks a Physician might prescribe
in Lieu of a Sea Voyage. With much Ado, to <span class="smcap">Richardson's</span>
Show, where a Tragedy, a Comic Song and a Pantomime all in
Half an Hour, and the Tragedy accompanied on Whistles and
Penny Trumpets by the Audience. But the best of the Fun outside,
between the Performances, with the Beef-Eaters' Band playing,
and the Show-Girls in their Spangles and Paint, dancing, and
the Clowns grimacing and flinging Summersets, and the Robber
Chief standing in a brave Posture in the Corner. Store of Fat Ladies,
Wonderful Pigs, Giants and Dwarfs to see, and Conjurors in
Plenty, specially in the Crowd, conjuring Handkerchiefs out of
Pockets. In the Evening to the great Dancing-Booth, which lighted
up and hung with variegated Lamps, was, to be sure, a pretty
fine Sight. But the Company uproarious through Drink; and yet
the Dancing without Liveliness, being mostly that rogueish Chin-and-Shoulder
French Dance, gone heavily through. Here again
that perpetual Scraping, and they who sold the Scrapers, did cry,
"All the Fun of the Fair for 2d."; which was true. Home by
the Railway Train, wherein the tipsy Passengers bawling and singing
the whole of the Way. Methinks these Fairs do cause a Concourse
of Rogues and bad Characters; and the more good cheap
Concerts abound, and Museums and Exhibitions are opened to
the Public, the less will the People frequent such Places as Greenwich
Fair.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_KENSYNGTON_GARDENS_WITH_YE" id="Illustration_KENSYNGTON_GARDENS_WITH_YE"></a>
<a href="images/035a.png">
<img src="images/035.png" width="400" height="335" alt="KENSYNGTON GARDENS WITH YE
BANDE PLAYINGE THERE." title="" />
</a>
<h2>KENSYNGTON GARDENS WITH YE
BANDE PLAYINGE THERE.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Friday</span>, <i>June 1, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">In the Afternoon to Kensington Gardens,
where a Band of the Guards do play on this Day, and also on Monday
throughout the Season, and draw together a great Crowd of
Fashionable Folks. The Tunes played mostly Polkas and Waltzes,
though now and then a Piece of Musique of a better Sort; but
the Musique little more than an Excuse for a Number of People
assembling to see and be seen. There all the World and his Wife;
and she in all her Finery. The Day very fair, and the Sun shining
gloriously, and the bright coloured Silks and Muslins at a Distance
between the Trees, did make a mighty pleasant Picture. But I got
as near as I could to gaze upon the Beauties, and am afraid that I
did look too hard at some; but they mostly smiled, and methinks
they do not trick themselves out so bravely to discourage Observation.
To see them pacing to and fro in such smart Attire, with
their shewy pink, and green, and Forget-me-not Blue Parasols, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>
could fancy they were the London Fashions for June come out a
walking. But many on Seats with tall well-looking Gallants posted
beside them, or bending down to converse with them with vast Attention
and Politeness, whereat they seeming mightily pleased.
Others standing in Groups here and there under the Shade, and
a great Throng of them round about the Musicians; but all walking
to and fro between the Tunes to show themselves. Many of
the Army among the Crowd, and strange, to compare them and
others of our Gentry, in Air and Manner, with one or two dingy
Foreigners with their stubbly Beards and ill-favoured Looks. The
little fashionable Children by the side of their Mammas elegant
enough to see; but overdressed in their Velvet and Plaid Tunics
and Plumes of Feathers, and their Ways too mincing and dainty,
and looking as though they had stepped from out a Band-Box.
Methinks they do seem brought up to think too much of their Outsides,
and to look on Display and Show as the Business of their
Lives, which is a silly Schooling. I did mark some of their Mothers,
old enough to know better, bedizened like the young Beauties,
but looking sour and glum, and plainly ill at ease in their Pride
and Vanity. But it divert me much to compare the delicate Children
with some Charity-School Urchins on the other Side of the
Wall that did anger the Park Keeper by mocking him. I doubt me
that the young Leatherbreeches be not the happier as long as they
can get a Bellyful of Victuals. The Company doubtless enjoying
themselves after their Fashion, but in general looking marvellous
grave; and strange to shut my Eyes between the Tunes and to hear
Nothing but the Rustling of Dresses and a Murmur of Voices as
they did walk up and down. It is wonderful how we English do
go through our Amusements after the Manner of a solemn Ceremony.
Yet do the people of Fashion in Kensington Gardens
make an exceeding rare Show; and I do only wish that there were
no Reverse of the Picture to be seen among us. But their Finery
do afford Employment to Work-People, and I do thank them for
parading themselves for my Amusement, and the Officers of the
Guards for treating the Town to Musique, and so giving Occasion
to such a fine Spectacle.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_HYGHEST_COURT_OF_LAW_IN_YE_KYNGDOM" id="Illustration_HYGHEST_COURT_OF_LAW_IN_YE_KYNGDOM"></a>
<a href="images/037a.png">
<img src="images/037.png" width="400" height="333" alt="HYGHEST COURT OF LAW IN YE KYNGDOM.
YE LORDS HEARYNG APPEALS." title="" />
</a>
<h2>HYGHEST COURT OF LAW IN YE KYNGDOM.
YE LORDS HEARYNG APPEALS.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Thursday</span>, <i>June 7, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">Up, and to the House of Lords, where a Committee
of Privileges touching a disputed Peerage, but I did only
go for a Sight of the Inside of the House, well worth seeing; and
the Carving, and Gilding, and Blazoning, a rich Feast to the Eye.
There present none but my <span class="smcap">Lord Brougham</span> and my <span class="smcap">Lord Campbell</span>,
and three or four other Lords, but a smaller Muster do often
serve for a Court of Appeal; for their Lordships do trust all their
Law Business to the Law-Lords' Hands. Counsel speaking at the
Bar of the House, and the Clerks of the House before them at
the Table, all in their Wigs very stately, but my Lords lolling on
the Benches, free and easy, they only having the Right to make
themselves at Home, yet droll to see the Officers of the House
forced to stand, but some of them leaning against the Stems of the
gilt Candlesticks, fast asleep on their Legs. Did think I should go<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>
to sleep too, if I stayed much longer, and about to depart; but glad
I did not; for presently the Counsel made an End, and then my
<span class="smcap">Lord Brougham</span> examining a Witness was almost the best Sport
that I ever had in my Life. The Witness, one of the Attornies for
the Claimant of the Title, and <span class="smcap">Lord Brougham</span> suspecting some
Trickery in the Case, and good Lack! how he did bait and ferret
him to draw it out, asking the most peremptory Questions, and
sometimes a second before the first could be answered, firking
with Impatience like one smarting with Stinging Nettles: which
was great Mirth. It did well-nigh cause me to laugh outright, and
commit a Breach of Privilege, to hear him in a Fume, echo the
Witness's Answers, and cry Eh? What! How! Why? and Wherefore?
and demand how he could do this, or came not to do the
other, and how was that, and so forth, and then set his Memory
right, next made a short Speech, then give a little Evidence of his
own, and again go back to the Examination. It seemed that the
Pretender to the Peerage had been helped with Money to maintain
his Suit by certain Persons, and my Lord did strive to worm
out of the Lawyer their End therein: but to no Purpose; for he had
met with his Match; so forced to content himself with a Quip on
the Chances of the Witness's Client. Then another Witness examined;
a Chirurgeon, whom <span class="smcap">Lord Brougham</span> did make merry
with for his jolly good-natured Looks, and did jest upon concerning
his Vocation: and the other did bandy Jokes with my Lord, and
gave him as good as he brought. Methinks such Bantering is strange
of a Peer, and one that hath been Lord Chancellor and used to
sit on the Woolsack, or anywhere else but the Box of an Omnibus.
But strange, how sober a Speech in summing up the Evidence
my Lord did make after all; and no Doubt he can be reasonable
and quiet when he pleases. Save a few words from <span class="smcap">Lord Campbell</span>,
not a Syllable spoke but my <span class="smcap">Lord Brougham</span>; wherefore
methinks he must have been thoroughly happy, having had nigh
all the Talk to himself. But the highest Court of Law in the Realm
numbering so few, put me much in mind of the Army in <i>Bombastes
Furioso</i>.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_THE_FLOWER_SHOWE_AT_CHYSYK" id="Illustration_THE_FLOWER_SHOWE_AT_CHYSYK"></a><a href="images/039a.png">
<img src="images/039.png" width="400" height="334" alt="THE FLOWER SHOWE AT CHYSYK GARDENS." title="" />
</a>
<h2>THE FLOWER SHOWE AT CHYSYK
GARDENS.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Saturday</span>, <i>June 9, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">My Wife holding me to my Promise to take
her to the Chiswick Flower Show, and I could not break it; for
certainly the poor Wretch do drudge in the House like a Slave;
and so often as I go out for Pleasure myself, methinks it were well
to give her a Treat now and then, to ease my Conscience, and keep
her quiet also. So took her, though our two Tickets together came
to 10s., and we thither in an Omnibus, and the Fare doubled on
the Occasion, instead of 1s. cost me 2s. more, which made me mad.
A rare Sight, nigh the Gardens, to look out on the Line of Carriages
behind us, and methought how mean and paltry it seemed
to be riding in an Omnibus; and was in some Trouble lest any
of our acquaintance should be in the Carriages, and see us 'light.
At the Passage to the Gardens beset by Fellows with Shoe-Brushes
and Clothes-Brushes, importunate to brush my Coat and Boots,
that were clean enough, but only to earn 4d. or 6d. Our Tickets<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>
delivered, and we into the Grounds with a Stream of Company,
and followed them and our Ears to a Band of Musique, the Horse
Guards playing hard by a Grove of Rhododendrons in full Bloom,
and a Mob of Beauties round about them more blooming still.
Heard a Medley-Piece of Scraps of most of the Operas that I
knew; which was better Musique than I expected. Then to the
Tents, where the Prize-Flowers are shown, on high Stands as long
as a moderate-sized Barn: and there a pretty Display of Orchids,
Azaleas, Cactuses, Pelargoniums, and Heaths, very rare and curious,
and a few choice Roses; but I expected to see Roses as big
as Cabbages. Many of the Flowers finely variegated, and giving
forth a Perfume sweeter than <span class="smcap">Atkinson</span> his shop. Strange how to
some of the Pelargoniums were given the names of <span class="smcap">Grisi</span>, <span class="smcap">Alboni</span>,
<span class="smcap">Mario</span>, and other Opera Singers: and <span class="smcap">Mr. Wagstaffe</span> do say it
is Musique in a Flower-Pot. After seeing the Flowers, to stroll about
the Walks and among the Trees, and view the Flowers without
Stalks, which I do admire most of all, and a brave show they were,
drest out in their gayest, and smiling as if resolved to look as pretty
as they could; and looking all the brighter for the Sun shining without
a Cloud to be seen: whereby out of Pain for my Wife's pink
Bonnet, which, if spoiled by the Rain usual at this Show, had been
£2, 2s. gone. The Bands from Time to Time beat a March about
the Garden; when to see the fine Ladies and Gentlemen follow
at the Soldiers' Heels, natural as ragged Street-Children! At last
all played together, and ended with <i>God Save the Queen</i>; when
the Flowers wheeled away. But the Company remaining, some
sitting on Benches to make a Lane, and the Rest of the Multitude
walking up and down to be seen, and the Beauties showing off
their Graces, which I did inspect from Head to Foot. My Wife
beginning to admire a certain Satin; so knowing what this signified,
away, and home to a Leg of Mutton; thinking of the State
of the Nation, which should not be so mighty gloomy to judge of
it by Chiswick Flower Show, and wondering how much all the
Finery there cost, and where all the Money could have come from.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_SOCYETYE_ENJOYINGE_ITSELFE_AT" id="Illustration_SOCYETYE_ENJOYINGE_ITSELFE_AT"></a>
<a href="images/041a.png">
<img src="images/041.png" width="400" height="325" alt=""SOCYETYE" ENJOYINGE ITSELFE AT
A SOYRÉE." title="" /></a>
<h2>"SOCYETYE" ENJOYINGE ITSELFE AT
A SOYRÉE.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Friday</span>, <i>June 15, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">After a Dinner <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'off'">of</ins> Bubble and Squeak, my
Wife and I to my <span class="smcap">Lord Wilkinson's</span> At Home, by invitation;
though Heaven knows if ever I set Eyes on his Lordship in my Life
or he on me; but do ascribe this Honour to having my Name put
down in the <i>Court Guide</i>, and am glad to find the Consequence
and Importance I have got thereby. I in my new Suit of Black
and Silk Neckerchief, with a Fringe at the Ends, and my Wife did
wear her Lace Dress over her pink Satin Slip, which was very handsome.
Gave our Card to a Lackey in Yellow and Crimson Livery,
with a huge Shoulder-knot, who did shout out our Name, which,
passing along a Row of his Fellows lining the Stairs, was by the
Time it reached the Drawing-Room changed to <span class="smcap">Pippins</span>—but no
matter; and so we were presented to my Lord and my Lady. So
on in the Crowd; for my Lord's Drawing-Room as thronged as
the Opera Pit Entrance on a Thursday Night. Methought surely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>
there was Something worth seeing and hearing; but saw nothing
extraordinary beyond the Multitude of Company, and divers Writers,
Painters, and other Persons of Note, elbowing their Way
through the Press; nor heard anything but Puffing and Gasping,
and complaining of the terrible Heat. Several Ladies fainting;
and my Wife declaring she feared she should faint too, which made
me mad; for it is always the Way with Women at Spectacles and
Assemblies, and yet they needs must and will go to them. At some
Distance before us, a Bustle and Stir, and in the midst of it a Lackey
with a Tray, whereon were Ices—the People struggling for them;
and I also strove to get one for my Wife; but the Attempt vain,
and we borne clear away by the Current to the other side of the
Room. Some young Beauties there, whom to have looked upon
at my Ease, and they at theirs, would have been a great delight;
but they in such Discomfort, that it quite spoilt their Prettiness,
which was pitiful. We met <span class="smcap">Dr. Dabbes</span> the great Chemist, with
whom some pretty Discourse concerning the Air of crowded
Rooms, which he said do contain a Gas called Carbonic Acid,
and is poisonous, and we were now breathing too much per Cent.
of it, which did trouble me. To think what Delight fashionable
Folks can take in crowding together, to the Danger of Health, a
Set of People, for the most Part, Strangers both to them and to
one another! Away early; for we could endure the Stifling no
longer: and good Lack, what a Relief to get into the open Air!
My white Kid Gloves soiled, cost me 3s. 6d.; but am thankful I
carried with me my Spring Hat, which do shut up; and did chuckle
to see how many others got their Hats crushed. Home in a Cab,
and on the Way bought a Lobster, whereunto my Wife would have
me add a Bottle of Stout, which did think a good Notion; cost me
together 3s. 6d., and the Cab 2s. 6d. more, and then to Supper;
mighty proud that I had been invited by my Lord, though utterly
tired with his Party, and so with great Satisfaction, but much Weariness,
to Bed.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_A_VIEW_OF_MR_LORDE_HYS_CRYKET" id="Illustration_A_VIEW_OF_MR_LORDE_HYS_CRYKET"></a>
<a href="images/043a.png">
<img src="images/043.png" width="400" height="321" alt="A VIEW OF MR. LORDE HYS CRYKET
GROUNDE." title="" /></a>
<h2>A VIEW OF MR. LORDE HYS CRYKET
GROUNDE.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Monday</span>, <i>June 18, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">This Day a great Cricket Match, Surrey against
England, at <span class="smcap">Lord's</span>, and I thither, all the Way to St. John's
Wood, to see the Place, having often heard Talk of it, and the Playing,
which <span class="smcap">Mr. Longstoppe</span> did tell me was a pretty Sight. Paid
6d. to be let in, and 2d. for a Card of the Innings, and bought a
little Book of the Laws of the Game, cost me 1s. 6d. more, though
when I had got it, could hardly understand a Word of it; but to
think how much Money I spend out of Curiosity, and how inquisitive
I am, so as to be vexed to the Heart if I cannot thoroughly
make out every Thing I see! The Cricketing I believe very fine;
but could not judge of it; for I think I did never before see any
Cricket since I was a little Varlet Boy at School. But what a Difference
between the Manner of Bowling in those Days, and that
Players now use! for then they did moderately trundle the Ball under-hand;
but now they fling it over-handed from the Elbow, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>
though viciously, and it flies like a Shot, being at least Five Ounces
and a Half in Weight, and hard as a Block. I saw it strike one of
the Batmen on the Knuckles, who Danced and shook his Fist, as
methought well he might. But to see how handy some did catch it,
though knocked off the Bat by a strong Man with all his Force;
albeit now and then they missing it, and struck by it on the Head,
or in the Mouth, and how any one can learn to play Cricket without
losing his front Teeth is a Wonder. The Spectators sitting on
Benches in a Circle, at a Distance, and out of the Way of the Ball,
which was wise; but some on a raised Stand, and others aside at
Tables, under a Row of Trees near a Tavern within the Grounds,
with Pipes and Beer; and many in the Circle also Smoking and
Drinking, and the Drawers continually going the Round of them
to serve them Liquor and Tobacco. But all as quiet as a Quaker's
Meeting, except when a good Hit made, or a Player bowled out,
and strange to see how grave and solemn they looked, as if the
Sight of Men in white Clothes, knocking a Ball about, were Something
serious to think on. Did hear that many had Wagers on the
Game, but doubt it, for methinks there had been more Liveliness
if much Betting, and Chance of winning or losing Money. The
Company very numerous, and among them some in Carriages,
and was glad to see so many People diverted, although at what
I could not tell. But they enjoyed themselves in their Way, whatever
that was, and I in mine, thinking how droll they looked, so
earnestly attending to a mere Show of Dexterity. I, for my Part,
soon out of Patience with the Length of the Innings, and the Stopping
and Interruption after each Run, and so away, more tired,
I am sure, than any of the Cricketers. Yet I do take Pride, as an
Englishman, in our Country Sport of Cricket, albeit I do not care
to watch it playing; and certainly it is a manly Game, throwing
open the Chest, and strengthening the Limbs, and the Player so
often in Danger of being hit by the Ball.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_A_RAYLWAYE_MEETYNGE_EMOTYON" id="Illustration_A_RAYLWAYE_MEETYNGE_EMOTYON"></a>
<a href="images/045a.png">
<img src="images/045.png" width="400" height="321" alt="A RAYLWAYE MEETYNGE. EMOTYON
OF YE SHAREHOLDERES AT YE ANNOUNCEMENTE OF A DIVIDENDE OF 2-1/2d." title="" /></a>
<h2>A RAYLWAYE MEETYNGE. EMOTYON
OF YE SHAREHOLDERES AT YE ANNOUNCEMENTE OF A DIVIDENDE OF 2-1/2d.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Monday</span>, <i>July 2, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">Comes <span class="smcap">Mr. Stagge</span> to take me to the great
Railway Meeting at a London Tavern; and we up the Back Stairs
to the Platform among the Directors, and glad of so good a Place;
but fearing to be taken for one of my Company, did get behind a
fat Man to hide myself. The Shareholders below met to hear their
Affairs debated, and what a Collection of wry and doleful Faces!
Methought the poor anxious Parsons and eager Half-pay Officers
among them was a pitiful Sight. Looked hard about for the Railway
King, but <span class="smcap">Mr. Stagge</span> did say in my Ear he was not likely to
show his Face. The Secretary reading Bills to be brought into the
Parliament to join other Railways with this, and all the while interrupted
by the Shareholders with Noise and Outcries; but at last
got through. Then the Chairman did propose that the Bills be approved<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>
of; but an Amendment moved with much Clapping of
Hands that the Meeting do adjourn for one Month to examine
the Company's Accounts; which they do say have been cooked.
Upon this a long Speech from a Director, denying that it was so,
and One made answer to him in a bouncing, ranting Harangue;
but to hear how the Shareholders did shout and cheer whenever
he accused the Board of a Piece of Roguery! He complained that
Proxy Papers had been sent out by some for Votes, whereby to gain
their own Ends, at £900 Expense to the Company; whereat more
Uproar, in the midst whereof he moved another Amendment;
when the Noise greater than ever, with Groans and calling for
Dividends; and several in the Meeting strove to speak, but could
only wag their Jaws and shake their Fists at the Chairman, and he
imploring Quiet in Dumb Show. Howbeit, one old Gentleman
got Attention for a Moment, and in great Wrath and Choler did
declare that the Directors' Statement was all Humbug. Then Another,
with much ado to get a Hearing, did move a third Amendment:
and after that, more Wrangling and Jangling, until the only
Man of any Brains I had yet heard, up and showed the folly of
moving Amendment on Amendment. So the first and last Amendment
withdrawn, and the second put to the Vote, and lost, and
then the Chairman's Resolution put and lost also, and the Shareholders
hooting and hissing, and shouting "Shame!" and crying
that they could not understand the Question. So the Amendment
and former Resolution both put over again, and both again lost;
whereupon the Shareholders stark mad, and rushed in a Mob on
the Platform, raving at the Chairman, who jumped up in his Chair,
throwing his Arms abroad, and shrieking for Silence; till at last
a Poll determined on to decide whether for Adjournment or not;
and so the Meeting brought to an End in as great a Hurly-Burly
as I ever heard; and a pretty Chairman methinks they have to keep
Order, and brave Directors to cook their Accounts, and their Meetings
do seem as confused as their Affairs; and thank my Stars, I
have not sunk my Money in a Railway.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_A_PROSPECT_OF_YE_THAMES_ITS" id="Illustration_A_PROSPECT_OF_YE_THAMES_ITS"></a>
<a href="images/047a.png">
<img src="images/047.png" width="400" height="318" alt="A PROSPECT OF YE THAMES ITS
REGATTA." title="" /></a>
<h2>A PROSPECT OF YE THAMES ITS
REGATTA.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Tuesday</span>, <i>July 10, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">Sent my Vest to the Tailor's to be let out
in the Back, and my Wife and every Body say I grow too stout,
which do put me in mighty Pain lest I should lose my Shape;
wherefore I have resolved to take a long Walk daily, for Exercise,
to bring down my Fat. So begin this Day, and set out to walk to
Barn-Elms, by the way of Hammersmith, on a brave melting Afternoon.
I did muse at the Carriages and Omnibuses that passed
me, crowded both inside and on the Roof, and the People upon
them whooping and blowing Horns, as the British Public always
do when they ride to see any Sport. At Hammersmith found what
all this meant, everyone there hastening to the River, this being
the first Day of the Thames Regatta, and the Suspension-Bridge
thronged, and Festoons of Spectators on the Chains. Did go upon
the Bridge, cost me 1/2d. toll, but would not have missed the Sight
for 6d. or 1s.; for the Thames with Boats scattered all over it,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>
their Flags fluttering, and their Crews shouting and laughing full
of Fun and Glee, made a lively Picture; and also I was just in the
Nick of Time to see a Race; four Boats of as many Oars darting
under the Bridge at full Speed, while the Beholders cheered and
halloaed with all their Might, and a Bell rung, and a Band of
Musique upon the Bridge Pier did play "Love Not." Good Lack!
how wrapped up the People did seem to be in the Race, and did
now cry for Blue to go it; and then Red, and then Pink, and at
last that Red had it, meaning the Colours of the Rowers, which indeed
looked very smart and spruce. Over the Bridge, and, instead
of to Barnes, down the River, along the Towing Path, which
was also thronged with Folks running to and fro, all Eagerness and
Bustle. So to Putney, and there the Multitude greatest both on
the Bridge and the Shore, and <span class="smcap">Finch</span> his Ground to the Water-Side
quite a Fair, with Fat Ladies and Learned Pigs and Gilt Gingerbread;
and his Tavern beset by Customers for Ale, and mighty
good Ale it is. Here more Boat-Racing, with Firing of Cannon,
Jollity, Shouting, Jangling of Street Pianos, and everywhere Tobacco-Smoke
and the Popping of Ginger-Beer. Some fouling of
Barges, but no worse Mishap, though I expected every moment
that Somebody would be ducked. Methought how neat and dainty
the light Wherries and Wager-Boats did look among the other
Craft; but loth I should be to trust my Carcase in a Cockle-Shell,
that sitting an Inch too much on one side would overthrow. Mighty
pleasant also to behold on the Water the little Parties of Beauties,
rowed by their Sweethearts, under Awnings to shade them from
the Sun, and the Ripple on the Water, and the Smiles on their
Faces, and to hear their Giggling, which was a pretty Noise. Afloat
everywhere in their Boating-Trim I did note sundry of those
young Sparks that do and think and talk of Nothing but pulling
up the River, and live upon it almost, like Swans or Geese. But,
however, that Boat-Racing is a true British Pastime, and so long
as we pull together he will back us against all the World. "And talking
of that," says he, "the Sport being ended, suppose we take a
pull at some of <span class="smcap">Finch</span> his Ale."</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_A_RAYLWAY_STATYON_SHOWYNGE" id="Illustration_A_RAYLWAY_STATYON_SHOWYNGE"></a>
<a href="images/049a.png">
<img src="images/049.png" width="400" height="316" alt="A RAYLWAY STATYON. SHOWYNGE
YE TRAVELLERS REFRESHYNGE THEMSELVES." title="" /></a>
<h2>A RAYLWAY STATYON. SHOWYNGE
YE TRAVELLERS REFRESHYNGE THEMSELVES.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Tuesday</span>, <i>July 31, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">Prevailed upon by my Wife to carry her to
Bath, as she said, to go see her Aunt <span class="smcap">Dorothy</span>, but I know she
looked more to the Pleasure of her Trip than any Thing else; nevertheless
I do think it necessary Policy to keep in with her Aunt,
who is an old Maid and hath a pretty Fortune; and to see what
Court and Attention I pay her though I do not care 2d. about her!
But am mightily troubled to know whether she hath sunk her
Money in an Annuity, which makes me somewhat uneasy at the
Charge of our Journey, for what with Fare, Cab-Hire, and Vails
to <span class="smcap">Dorothy's</span> Servants for their good Word, it did cost me altogether
£6, 2s. 6d. To the Great Western Station in a Cab, by
Reason of our Luggage; for my Wife must needs take so many
Trunks and Bandboxes, as is always the Way with Women: or else
we might have gone there for 2s. 6d. less in an Omnibus. Did take<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>
our places in the First Class notwithstanding the Expense, preferring
both the Seats and the Company; and also because if any
Necks or Limbs are broken I note it is generally in the Second and
Third Classes. So we settled, and the Carriage-Doors slammed
to, and the Bell rung, the Train with a Whistle off like a Shot, and
in the Carriage with me and my Wife a mighty pretty Lady, a
Frenchwoman, and I did begin to talk French with her, which my
Wife do not well understand, and by and by did find the Air too
much for her where she was sitting, and would come and take her
Seat between us; I know, on Purpose. So fell a reading the <i>Times</i>,
till One got in at Hanwell who seemed to be a Physician, and
mighty pretty Discourse with him touching the Manner of treating
Madmen and Lunatics, which is now by gentle Management, and
is a great Improvement on the old Plan of Chains and the Whip.
Also of the Foulness of London for Want of fit Drainage, and how
it do breed Cholera and Typhus, as sure as rotten Cheese do
Mites, and of the horrid Folly of making a great Gutter of the River.
So to Swindon Station, where the Train do stop ten Minutes
for Refreshment, and there my Wife hungry, and I too with a good
Appetite, notwithstanding the Discourse about London Filth. So
we out, and to the Refreshment-Room with a Crowd of Passengers,
all pushing and jostling, and trampling on each other's Toes,
striving which should get served first. With much Ado got a Basin
of Soup for my Wife, and for myself a Veal and Ham Pie, and to
see me looking at my Watch, and taking a Mouthful by Turns;
and how I did gulp a Glass of <span class="smcap">Guinness</span> his Stout! Before we had
half finished, the Guard rang the Bell, and my Wife with a start
did spill her Soup over her Dress, and was obliged to leave Half
of it; and to think how ridiculous I looked, scampering back to
the Train with my Meat-Pie in my Mouth! To run hurry-skurry
at the Sound of the Bell, do seem only fit for a Gang of Workmen;
and the Bustle of Railways do destroy all the Dignity of Travelling;
but the World altogether is less grand, and do go faster than
formerly. Off again, and to the End of our Journey, troubled at
the Soup on my Wife's Dress, but thankful I had got my Change,
and not left it behind me at the Swindon Station.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_YE_BRYTYSH_GRANADIERS_AMOUNTYNGE" id="Illustration_YE_BRYTYSH_GRANADIERS_AMOUNTYNGE"></a>
<a href="images/051a.png">
<img src="images/051.png" width="400" height="324" alt="YE BRYTYSH GRANADIERS AMOUNTYNGE
GUARD AT ST. JAMES HYS PALACE YARDE." title="" /></a>
<h2>YE BRYTYSH GRANADIERS AMOUNTYNGE
GUARD AT ST. JAMES HYS PALACE YARDE.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Wednesday</span>, <i>August 1, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">Up mighty betimes, and after a four Miles'
Walk, losing Weight like a Jockey, to the Palace Yard of St. James's
Palace, to see the Soldiers mount Guard to guard the <span class="smcap">Queen</span>, which
they do every Morning whether she is there or no, and is a pretty
pompous Ceremony. Found myself among as dirty shabby a Set
of Fellows hanging about as I think I ever saw, with whom two or
three with the Look of Gentlemen, and a pretty Sprinkling of Milliner-Girls
and Nurse-Maids. Strange how all Women almost do
run after Soldiers; which <span class="smcap">Mr. Pumpkyns</span> do say is because Weakness
do, by Instinct, seek the Protection of Courage; but I think
is owing to nothing at all but the Bravery of a Red Coat. In a few
Minutes more Riff-Raff pouring in; then a Noise without of drumming:
and then just at 1/4 to 11, a Party of the Grenadier Guards
marching in under the Clock-Tower, the Drums and Fifes in Front<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>
of them, and, at the Head of all, the Drum Major, twirling his Staff,
strutted like a Pouter-Pigeon, as stately, almost, as ever I saw <span class="smcap">J.
Bland</span>. The Men at the Word of Command ground arms with a
Clang, and stood at Ease in Lines, and together with the Spectators
made a Square, with the Drums and Fifes at one End, and the
Band at the other by the Clock-Tower, and a Post in the Middle,
and around the Post, with the Colours, the Officers in full Figg,
mighty trim; and <span class="smcap">Mr. Wagstaffe</span> do tell me that the Guards
have brave clothing Colonels. The Band did play while the Men
that should relieve Guard were marching off; and I do muse why
Soldiers are provided with so much Musique, and conclude it is to
hinder them from thinking, and also in Battle to inflame their
Minds without making them drunk. At five Minutes to the Hour
comes the relieved Guard, and draws up ready to be marched away,
and to see them backing for Room on the Crowd's Toes! Droll,
also, to watch the Marshalman, in his grand Uniform and with his
Staff of Office, going about to make Space and keep Order among
the ragged Boys; and I remember how, in my Youth, I thought he
was a General Officer. More Musique, in the Meanwhile, by the
Band; the Band-Master, a rare plump Fellow, in goodly Condition,
conducting, with a Clarionet for his Batoon. Suddenly the
Musique cut short by the Drums and Fifes, the Word given, and
the Men did fall in, and away to Barracks, a Grand March playing,
and all the Tag-Rag at their Heels. But to see the Lieutenant, the
Officer of the Day, set up the Colours on the Post, and touch his
Cap and kiss his Sword to them, saluting them, which do seem a
senseless Pantomime. Besides, the Flag, a most old and sorry
one, blown into Tatters, which, in our long Peace, must have been
done by the Breeze and not the Battle; but so left, with a Grenadier
to guard it, sticking in the Post. Then the Officer did dismiss
the Off Guard, and away to his Quarters for the Day. Methinks
that mounting Guard at the Palace is a Service of little Danger or
Hardship; but, good Lack! to think what Fire-eaters in Battle
are the Dandy Officers of the Guards, and how their Men will follow
them through thick and thin, and what Work those Fellows
can do when called on, that play Soldiers about St. James's!</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_A_PROSPECT_OF_A_FASHYONABLE" id="Illustration_A_PROSPECT_OF_A_FASHYONABLE"></a>
<a href="images/053a.png">
<img src="images/053.png" width="400" height="332" alt="A PROSPECT OF A FASHYONABLE
HABERDASHER HYS SHOPE." title="" /></a>
<h2>A PROSPECT OF A FASHYONABLE
HABERDASHER HYS SHOPE.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Tuesday</span>, <i>August 7, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">Finding Fault with my Wife, for that she
do not use enough Exercise; whence her continual Headach, and
<span class="smcap">Faddell</span>, the 'Potticary his bill of £5. She replying that I would
never take her out, I said I would, whenever she liked; whereupon,
we agreed to go a Walk forthwith, and my Wife did propose Regent
Street. So we thither, pleasing ourselves with observing the Passers-by
and the Carriages, and the Streets blazing with fine Ladies and
flaming Liveries. Going by <span class="smcap">Lindsey and Woolsey's</span>, my Wife's
Eye taken with a Scarf in the Window, and would stop to look at it
with a Crowd of other Women gazing at the Finery, which <span class="smcap">Mr.
Skitt</span> do call Baits, and a Draper's Shop a Lady-Trap. Presently
she recollected that she wanted a Collar; so we into the Shop,
where some sixty or eighty Ladies sitting before the Counters, examining
the Wares, busy as Blue-Bottle Flies at a Sugar-Cask. Behind
the Counters the Shopmen and Assistants, showing off the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>
Goods, and themselves also, with mighty dainty Airs, every one
of them, almost, <span class="smcap">Narcissus</span> his Image. One of these dapper young
Sirs did help my Wife to her Collar, cost 3s. 6d.; when she thought
she had better get another while about it, cost 3s. 6d. more. Then,
says he, in his soft condoling Voice, "What is the next Article?"
Hereupon, my Wife bethought her of lacking some Lace Cuffs,
four Pair: cost 12s. "And now, Mem," says the young Fellow with
a Simper, "allow me to show you a Love of a Robe, a Barège, Double
Glacé, brocaded in the Flouncings, and reduced to Twenty-One-and-Six
from Forty-Five." But she professed that she needed it
not: whereat I was glad; when he did tell her he would do it at
One-and-Four less: and she then saying that it was indeed a Bargain,
which I find is a Woman's Word for anything cheap whether
wanted or no, I let her have it: cost £1, 0s. 2d. But, to be sure,
the Pattern was pretty, and my Wife being well-dressed do please
my Taste, and also increase my Consequence and Dignity. The
Robe bought, it comes into her Head that she could not do without
a new Shawl to match it, blue and scarlet, cost £2, 2s., but will
look mighty fine, and, I hope, last. Here I thought to hale her at
once by Force away; but seeing a stout middle-aged Gentleman
doing the very Thing, and how mean it looked, did forbear; and
in the Meanwhile the Shopman did beg, as he said, to tempt her
with a superior Assortment of Ribbons. She rummaging over this
Frippery, I to gaze about the Shop, and with Fellow-Feeling did
mark an unhappy small Boy, while his Mother was comparing
some three-score different Pieces of Satin, perched on a Stool, out
of Patience. My Wife would have 5s. worth of Ribbons, and here
I hoped would make an End; but the Shopman did exhibit to
her some Silk Stockings; and I telling her they were unnecessary,
she declared that then she must wear Boots, which she knows I
hate; and concluded with buying half a Dozen Pair, cost 24s.;
and we away, bowed out of the Shop with Congees by the smirking
Shopwalker, rubbing his Hands and grinning, as obsequious as
could be; and so Home; I mighty serious, having laid out £5,
10s. 2d.; and the next Time I take out my Wife for a Walk, it shall
be in the Fields and not in Regent Street.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_REGENTE_STRETE_AT_FOUR_OF_YE" id="Illustration_REGENTE_STRETE_AT_FOUR_OF_YE"></a>
<a href="images/055a.png">
<img src="images/055.png" width="400" height="322" alt="REGENTE STRETE AT FOUR OF YE
CLOCKE, P.M." title="" /></a>
<h2>REGENTE STRETE AT FOUR OF YE
CLOCKE, P.M.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Thursday</span>, <i>August 16, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">This Afternoon about Four of the Clock
to Regent Street, and did walk up and down, among the fine Folk
mostly, many Foreigners, and a few Street Urchins, and others of
the lower Sort, and note the Carriages stand in Front of the Shops,
and the Walking Advertisement Boys and Men, and the Cabs and
Omnibuses go by, and the Advertising Vans, and mighty fine and
droll the Monster Advertising Car of <span class="smcap">Moses and Son</span> the Tailors.
In the Evening to the Queen's House in the Haymarket, to hear
<span class="smcap">Mozart</span> his famous Opera "<i>Le Nozze di Figaro</i>" and <span class="smcap">Sontag</span> in
<i>Susanna</i>, which she do act mighty skittish, and with the prettiest
sidelong Looks, but the most graceful and like a Lady, and do
trip the Stage the daintiest and make the nicest Curtsies, and sing
the sweetest that methinks I ever did hear or see: and to think
that <span class="smcap">Mr. Vieuxboys</span> should tell me she do it as well now as he
did see her twenty Years ago! Pretty, to hear her sing "<i>Venite inginocchiatevi</i>,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>
where she do make <i>Cherubino</i> kneel down on the
Cushion before the <i>Countess</i>, and put him on a Girl's Cap, and pat
his Chin and Face. Also her singing of "<i>Sull' Aria</i>" with <span class="smcap">Parodi</span>,
the <i>Countess</i>, and the mingling of their Voices very musicall.
Likewise that jolly blooming she-<span class="smcap">Bacchus-Alboni</span>, <i>Cherubino</i>,
with her passionate fine singing of "<i>Non so più</i>" and "<i>Voi che
sapete</i>," did delight me much; and she did play a stripling of a
Page in Love to the very Life. <span class="smcap">Belletti</span> did mightily take me
with his Knaveries, in <i>Figaro</i>, and singing of "<i>Non più andrai</i>,"
which is a most lively and martial Song; and the Grand March
very brave as well, and did make my Heart leap, and me almost
jump out of my Seat. <span class="smcap">Colletti</span>, too, the <i>Count</i>, did content me
much, and to the utmost with "<i>Crudel! perchè finora</i>." But then
to hear <span class="smcap">Lablache</span>, what a great Thing he do make out of so small
a Part as <i>Bartolo</i>, with his Voice in the Concert-Pieces heard above
all the Rest, and thundering out "<i>La Vendetta</i>," like a musicall
<span class="smcap">Stentor</span>; and his undertaking of little Characters to make an
Opera perfect is very magnanimous; and <span class="smcap">Mr. Wagstaffe</span> do
well say that he "<i>Ingentes Animos ingenti in Pectore versat</i>," and
have as much Brains as Body. Mighty droll to hear the Quartett,
with each Singer in turn holding the Voice on the word "<i>Io</i>,"
called for three Times, and the Singers each Time spinning "<i>Io</i>"
out longer, whereat great Laughter; and the Performers laughing
as much as the Audience. Wonderfull how still all the House was
while <span class="smcap">Sontag</span> was a singing of "<i>Deh! vieni non tardar</i>," and the
<i>Bravas</i> and Clapping of Hands when she had ended; and to hear
how she did stick to the Text, and not, like a vulgar silly <i>Prima
Donna</i>, disfigure noble Musique by ridiculous Flourishes. Home
to Supper, it being late, though, walking up the Haymarket, did
sorely long for stewed Oysters. Telling my Wife of the Opera, did
speak of <i>Susanna</i> boxing <i>Figaro</i> his Ears, and let out that I could
have been glad to have her box mine too, which my Wife did say
she could do as well if I pleased; but I said I had rather not, and
so, whistling "<i>Non più andrai</i>," rather small to Bed.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_BLACKWALL_SHOWYNGE_YE_PUBLICK" id="Illustration_BLACKWALL_SHOWYNGE_YE_PUBLICK"></a>
<a href="images/057a.png">
<img src="images/057.png" width="400" height="315" alt="BLACKWALL. SHOWYNGE YE PUBLICK
A DINYNGE ON WHYTEBAIT." title="" /></a>
<h2>BLACKWALL. SHOWYNGE YE PUBLICK
A DINYNGE ON WHYTEBAIT.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Saturday</span>, <i>August 18, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">Comes <span class="smcap">Mr. Gollope</span>, this being his Birth-day,
to bid me to go dine with him and a Company of some Half-dozen
of our Acquaintance, off Whitebait at Blackwall. So we
first to London Bridge, on Foot, walking for an Appetite, and
there took Water, and down the River in a Steam-Boat, with great
Pleasure, enjoying the Breeze, and the View of the Shipping, and
also the Prospect of a good Dinner. Landed at the Pier, and as
fast as we could to <span class="smcap">Lovegrove's</span>, where our Table engaged in
the large Room. But good Lack! to see the Fulness of the Place,
every Table almost crowded with eager Eaters, the Heaps of
Whitebait among them, and they with open Mouths and Eyes
shovelling Spoonful after Spoonful into their Plates and thence
thrusting them five or six at a Time into their Chaps. Then, here
and there, a fat Fellow, stopping, out of Breath, to put down his
Knife and Fork, and gulp a Goblet of iced Punch, was mighty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>
droll; also to hear others speaking with their Mouths full. But
Dinner coming, I cared not to look about me, there being on Table
some dozen different Dishes of Fish, whereof the Sight did at
first bewilder me, like the Donkey between the Haystacks, not
knowing which to choose; and <span class="smcap">Mr. Goblestone</span> do lament that
at a Feast with Plenty of good Things he never was able to eat
his Fill of every one. A Dish of Salmon with India-Pickle did
please me mightily, also some Eels, spitchcocked, and a stewed
Carp, and ate heartily of them with much Relish; but did only
nibble at the Rest by way of a Taste, for I felt exceeding full,
and methought I should have no Stomach for the Whitebait.
But Lack! to see when it came, how my Appetite returned, and
I did fall to upon it, and drink iced Punch, and then at the
Whitebait again. Pretty, the little Slices of brown Bread and Butter,
they did bring us to eat it withal, and truly, with a Squeeze of
Lemon and Cayenne Pepper, it is delicate Eating. After the
Whitebait plain, Whitebait devilled made us to eat the more,
and drink too, which we did in Champagne and Hock, pledging
each other with great Mirth. After the Fish comes a Course of
Ducks, and a Haunch of Mutton, and divers made Dishes; and
then Tarts and Custards and Grouse; and lastly, a Dessert, and I
did partake of all, as much as I had a Mind to, and after Dinner
drank Port and Claret, when much Joking and rare Stories, and
very merry we were. Pretty to look out of Window as we sat, at the
Craft and the White Sails in the Sunset on the River. Back in
a Railway Carriage, shouting and singing, and in a Cab Home,
where <span class="smcap">Dr. Sharpe</span> called to see my Wife for her Vapours. Pretty
Discourse with him touching the Epidemic, he telling me that
of all Things to bring it on the likeliest was Excess in Food and
Drink, which did trouble me, and so with a Draught of Soda and
a Dose of Pills to Bed.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_YE_SPORT_OF_PUNTE_FYSHYNGE_OFF" id="Illustration_YE_SPORT_OF_PUNTE_FYSHYNGE_OFF"></a>
<a href="images/059a.png">
<img src="images/059.png" width="400" height="324" alt="YE SPORT OF PUNTE FYSHYNGE OFF
RYCHMONDE." title="" /></a>
<h2>YE SPORT OF PUNTE FYSHYNGE OFF
RYCHMONDE.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Wednesday</span>, <i>August 22, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">This Day to Richmond, to go a Fishing on
the River, and with me <span class="smcap">Mr. Itchenbrooke</span>, out of Hampshire, a
cunning Angler, who did mightily desire to see what this Sport
should be. So first we out in a Boat below Richmond Bridge,
where a Dozen or more of Punts full of People a Fishing, and rowed
among them to observe the Manner of doing it, which is sinking
with a Gentle, sitting upon Chairs, and smoking Cigars and
Pipes of Tobacco, and drinking cold Brandy and Water. We
did note one young Spark lying at full Length, in a Punt's End,
asleep, and did conclude he had had enough of the Fishing, or
else of the Grog. Some very silent, and bent on their Sport, but
others bandying Fun and Jokes, and shouting for Joy and Merriment
whenever they caught a Fish, which <span class="smcap">Mr. Itchenbrooke</span>
do say is not the Wont of a Sportsman. Among the Fishers I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>
did note with Wonder one or two Damsels; but <span class="smcap">Mr. Wagstaffe</span>
do say it is a common Thing for Ladies to fish for Gudgeons.
Several of them also quite old Men; but seeming as much taken
up with their Fishing as Schoolboys, though catching Nothing
but little Fish not a Span long. So, satisfied with looking at the
Sportsmen, we to try the Quality of the Sport ourselves, and did
hire a Punt, and Fishing Tackle, and a Man to guide the Punt,
and bait our Hooks, and did take on board a Stone-Bottle of
Half-and-Half Beer, to follow the Fashion. Pretty, to see our
Man sound the Depth of the River with a Plumb, to resolve whereabouts
on our Lines to place the Float, and glad to have him to
put the Bait on, being Gentles, which I was loath to touch. Our
Hooks no sooner dropped into the Water than <span class="smcap">Mr. Itchenbrooke</span>
did pull up a Fish about the Bigness of a Sprat, though,
but for the Punt-Man, he would have thrown it in again, saying
that he never heard of keeping any Fish under Half-a-Pound,
and that while such small Fry were killed there would be no good
Fish in the River. But Lack! to see how my Float did bob up
and down, and I jerk at my Line, but generally bring up a Weed.
Did marvel at the Punt-Man flinging Lumps of Earth and Meal
into the Water to entice the Fish, which methought would either
have driven them away or surfeited them, but did not, and the
Trick did much divert <span class="smcap">Mr. Itchenbrooke</span>. We did catch Roach
and Dace to the Number of fifteen, which my Companion did
call seven Brace-and-a-Half; and I caught the Half: I mean the
Half Brace. Our Fishing did last two Hours, cost 3s., and 6d.
besides for the Beer, but we had much mirth for our Time and
Money, though little Fish, and yet more Fish than some our Man
did show us, saying they had been at it all the Day. So to Dinner
at the Star and Garter, where a most brave Dinner and excellent
Wine, and pretty Discourse with <span class="smcap">Mr. Itchenbrooke</span> of
true Sport in Fishing and the Art of Whipping for Trout with an
Imitation Fly, made out of coloured Silk Thread and Birds'
Feathers. Our Dinner ended, cost me £1, 9s. 0d., went and
bought 6d. worth of Maids of Honour at the Pastrycook's, and did
take them Home to my Wife.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_TRYCKS_OF_YE_LONDON_TRADE" id="Illustration_TRYCKS_OF_YE_LONDON_TRADE"></a>
<a href="images/061a.png">
<img src="images/061.png" width="400" height="324" alt="TRYCKS OF YE LONDON TRADE." title="" /></a>
<h2>TRYCKS OF YE LONDON TRADE.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Tuesday</span>, <i>September 4, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">With my Wife this Day to Westminster, and
walking thereabouts in Regent-Street and Oxford-Street, and the
principal Streets, though contrary to my Resolution to walk with
her only in the Fields, but did it to please her, and keep her in good
Humour, but in mighty Fear of what it might cost me, trembling
to observe her continually looking askance at the Shop-Windows.
But I cannot wonder that they did catch her Eye; particularly the
Haberdashers, and Drapers, and Mercers, whereof many were full
of Bills, stuck in all Manner of Ways across the Panes, and printed
in Letters of from two Inches to a Span long, and staring Dashes
of Admiration two and three together. In one Window posted a
"Tremendous Sacrifice!" in another an "Alarming Failure!!" in
a third a "Ruinous Bankruptcy!!!", by reason whereof, the Goods
within were a-selling off at 50, 60, or 70 per Cent. under prime Cost,
but at any Rate the Owners must raise Money. Good Lack! to
think of the dreadful Pass the Drapery Trade must have come to;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>
so many Master-Mercers and Haberdashers on the Threshold of
the Prison or the Workhouse, and their Wives and Families becoming
Paupers on the Parish, or Beggars, and their People out
of Employ starving; if their notices do tell true. But my Wife did
say, very serious, that we were not to judge, or to know of their
Tricks and Cozenage, and, that it was no Matter to us if they did
cheat their Creditors, provided we could buy their Wares at a Bargain,
and besides, if we did not, others would. So going by <span class="smcap">Ragge,
Rip & Co.</span>, their Establishment, as they do call their Shop, she
would needs stop in Front of it to look in; which did trouble me.
I to read the Posters in the Window, which were the worst and
most pitiful of any, and by their showing <span class="smcap">Mr. Ragge</span> and <span class="smcap">Mr. Rip</span>,
and their <span class="smcap">Co.</span> were going altogether to the Dogs. My Wife did presently,
as I expected, find somewhat she had a Mind to: a Muslin
she did say was Dirt-cheap, and I knew was Dirt-worth. I plainly
refused to let her buy it, or anything else at <span class="smcap">Ragge</span> and <span class="smcap">Rip's</span>, who
have been, to my knowledge, making a Tremendous Sacrifice any
Time the last two Years; but the Simpletons their Customers the
only Victims. But I pity not a Whit such Gudgeons as are caught by
these Tricks of the Drapery Trade; rightly served by being cheated
in seeking to profit, as they think, by Fraud and dishonest Bankruptcy.
I told my Wife that <span class="smcap">Ragge</span> and <span class="smcap">Rip</span> do sell off at a Loss to
none but those that deal with them, and were like at that Moment,
instead of being Bankrupts, to be making merry at the Expense of
their Dupes. But she being sullen at my Denial of her Muslin, I
did quiet her by the Promise of a better Piece at <span class="smcap">Faircloth</span> and
<span class="smcap">Pryce's</span>, who do carry on Business without rogueish Puffery, and
after the old Fashion of English Traders, according to the Maxim,
that "Good Wine needs no Bush," which my Wife, poor silly
Wretch, not understanding, I explained to her did mean, that
stuffs worth the buying, to find a Sale, do stand in no need of Haberdashers'
trickish Advertisements.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_MADAME_TUSSAUD_HER_WAX_WERKES" id="Illustration_MADAME_TUSSAUD_HER_WAX_WERKES"></a>
<a href="images/063a.png">
<img src="images/063.png" width="400" height="307" alt="MADAME TUSSAUD HER WAX WERKES.
YE CHAMBER OF HORRORS!!" title="" /></a>
<h2>MADAME TUSSAUD HER WAX WERKES.
YE CHAMBER OF HORRORS!!
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Wednesday</span>, <i>September 5, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">To please my Wife, did take her this Evening
to <span class="smcap">Madame Tussaud</span> her Wax Works; a grand large Room,
with Gilding, lighted up very splendid: cost 2s., and a Catalogue
6d. The Wax Figures showy: but with their painted Cheeks and
glassy Eyes—especially such as nod and move—do look like Life
in Death. The Dresses very handsome, and I think correct; and
the Sight of so many People of Note in the Array of their Time,
did much delight me. Among the Company Numbers of Country
Folk, and to see how they did stare at the Effigies of the <span class="smcap">Queen</span>,
and the <span class="smcap">Prince</span>, and the <span class="smcap">Duke of Wellington</span>, and the <span class="smcap">King
of the Belgians</span>, and the <span class="smcap">Princess Charlotte</span> that was, and
<span class="smcap">George the Fourth</span> in his Coronation Robes, grand as a Peacock!
The Catalogue do say that his Chair is the very one wherein
he sat in the Abbey; but it look like a Play-House Property,
and little thought the King where it would come down to figure!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>
A Crowd of Dames gazing at the Group of the Royal Family, calling
the Children "Dears" and "Ducks," and would, I verily believe,
have liked to kiss their Wax Chaps. My Wife feasted her
Eyes on the little Princes and Princesses, I mine upon a pretty,
modest, black Maid beside me, and she hers on me, till my Wife
spying us, did pinch me with her Nails in the Arm. Pretty, to see
the Sovereign Allies in the last War, and bluff old <span class="smcap">Blucher</span>, and
<span class="smcap">Bonaparte</span> and his Officers, in brave Postures, but stiff. Also
the two <span class="smcap">King Charleses</span>, and <span class="smcap">Oliver</span>, together; <span class="smcap">Charles the
First</span> protesting against his Death-Warrant, and his Son Backing
him; and <span class="smcap">Cardinal Wolsey</span> looking on. <span class="smcap">Lord Byron</span> in
the Dress of a Greek Pirate, looking Daggers and Pistols, close to
<span class="smcap">John Wesley</span> preaching a Sermon; and methought, if all <span class="smcap">Madame
Tussaud's</span> Figures were their Originals instead, what Ado
there would be! Many of the Faces that I knew very like; and
my <span class="smcap">Lord Brougham</span> I did know directly, and <span class="smcap">Liston</span> in <i>Paul
Pry</i>. But strange, among the Kings to see him that was the Railway
King; and methinks that it were as well now if he were melted
up. Thence to the <span class="smcap">Napoleon</span> Rooms, where <span class="smcap">Bonaparte's</span> Coach,
and one of his Teeth, and other Reliques and Gimcracks of his,
well enough to see for such as care about him a Button. Then to
the Chamber of Horrors, which my Wife did long to see most of
all; cost, with the <span class="smcap">Napoleon</span> Rooms, 1s. more; a Room like a
Dungeon, where the Head of <span class="smcap">Robespierre</span>, and other Scoundrels
of the great French Revolution, in Wax, as though just cut off, horrid
ghastly, and Plaster Casts of Fellows that have been hanged:
but the chief attraction a Sort of Dock, wherein all the notorious
Murderers of late Years; the foremost of all, <span class="smcap">Rush</span>, according to
the Bill, taken from Life at Norwich, which, seeing he was hanged
there, is an odd Phrase. Methinks it is of ill Consequence that
there should be a Murderers' Corner, wherein a Villain may look
to have his Figure put more certainly than a Poet can to a Statue
in the Abbey. So away again to the large Room, to look at <span class="smcap">Jenny
Lind</span> instead of <span class="smcap">Greenacre</span>, and at 10 of the Clock Home,
and so to Bed, my Wife declaring she should dream of the Chamber
of Horrors.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_DEERE_STALKYNGE_IN_YE_HYGHLANDES" id="Illustration_DEERE_STALKYNGE_IN_YE_HYGHLANDES"></a>
<a href="images/065a.png">
<img src="images/065.png" width="400" height="313" alt="DEERE STALKYNGE IN YE HYGHLANDES." title="" /></a>
<h2>DEERE STALKYNGE IN YE HYGHLANDES.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Monday</span>, <i>September 17, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">Comes <span class="smcap">Mr. Gollope</span>, and <span class="smcap">Mr. Goblestone</span>, and
<span class="smcap">Jenkyns</span>, to dine with me off a Haunch of Venison, and <span class="smcap">Mr. Mc.
Nab</span> calling, I did make him stay Dinner too, and the Venison
very fat and good; and <span class="smcap">Mr. Gollope</span> did commend my Carving,
whereof I was proud. Between them a Debate over our Dinner,
as to whether the Red Deer or the Fallow Deer were the better
Venison, and both <span class="smcap">Mr. Gollope</span> and <span class="smcap">Mr. Goblestone</span> do say
the Fallow, but <span class="smcap">Mr. Mc. Nab</span> will have it that the Red is by far
the better, and do tell them they know nothing about the Matter,
and never tasted Red Deer but such as had been mewed up in
Richmond Park, which are mighty different from them that do
browse in the Highlands on the Heather. He do say that Highland
Deer-Stalking do excel every other Sport, from Tiger-Hunting
to Fox-Hunting, which I mean to repeat to <span class="smcap">Mr. Corduroys</span>
to make him mad. Then he to describe the Manner of Stalking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>
the Deer, and his Account thereof mighty taking, but, with his
broad Scottish Accent and Phrases, droll; and good Lack, to
hear him talk of Braes, and Burns, and Cairns, and Corries, rattling
the R in every Word! He says that the Deer are the cunningest
and the watchfullest, and can see, and hear, and smell at
the greatest Distance of any Creature almost living, and do keep
Spies to look out, and their Ears and Eyes always open and their
Noses to the Wind, and do think and reason in their Minds like
human Beings; which, methinks, is peculiar to the Scotch Deer.
He says that the Sport is to fetch a Compass on them by Stratagem,
so as to approach or drive them nigh enough to shoot them
with a Rifle, and it do often take some Hours and several Miles,
mostly crawling on the Hands and Knees, to get one Shot. He
says that the Stalker and Hill-Keepers that wait on him must, to
gain their Chance, dodge, stooping behind Crags, wriggle and
creep over Flats and up Brooks like Snakes or Eels, clamber up
and run down Precipices, and stride over Bogs, wherein they do
sometimes sink plump up to the Middle; which should be rather
Sport to the Stag than the Huntsman. But after all, the Deer shot
dead, or wounded, and at Bay with the Hounds at his Throat, but
despatched at last, and paunched, which he do call "gralloched,"
is such a Triumph that it do repay the Sportsman for all his Pains.
He do say that what with the Grandeur of the Mountains, and the
Freshness of the Air, the Spirits are raised beyond what we could
imagine, and the Appetite also increased wonderfully; whereat
<span class="smcap">Mr. Gollope</span> did prick up his Ears. To conclude, he did declare
that no one could know what Deer-Stalking was that had not tried
it; but methinks I can, remembering how I used in my Youth to
creep in Ditches and behind Hedges to shoot Larks.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_A_PROSPECT_OF_AN_ELECTION" id="Illustration_A_PROSPECT_OF_AN_ELECTION"></a>
<a href="images/067a.png">
<img src="images/067.png" width="400" height="324" alt="A PROSPECT OF AN ELECTION." title="" /></a>
<h2>A PROSPECT OF AN ELECTION.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Thursday</span>, <i>September 27, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">Up, and by Railway with <span class="smcap">Mr. Wagstaffe</span> to
Guzzleford to my <span class="smcap">Cosin Peg</span> her Wedding, and heard the Bells a
ringing at 9 o'clock, the Marriage not to be till 11, but found they
were rung for an Election; <span class="smcap">'Squire Callow</span> and <span class="smcap">Mr. Fairport</span>
standing for County Members in the Room of <span class="smcap">Mr. Brownjohn</span>.
So, the Wedding over, we about the Town to see the Fun. A Fellow
the worse for Beer demanding whose Colours we wore, meaning
our Wedding-Favours, <span class="smcap">Mr. Wagstaffe</span> did pleasantly answer,
<span class="smcap">Hymen's</span>, whereupon the Fellow, crying "<span class="smcap">Callow</span> for ever!" did
rush full at us, but, we parting, slip between us and tumble headlong
into the Mud. Good Lack! to see what Numbers of Ragamuffins
everywhere with their Hats awry, Noses bleeding, or Eyes
blacked, staggering under huge Placard Boards, whereon, in great
Letters, "<span class="smcap">Callow</span> and Agriculture," or, "Vote for <span class="smcap">Fairport</span> and
Commerce!" The Windows and Balconies full of Ladies, some
pretty, to whom in my Wife's Absence I did kiss my Hand. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>
to think of the Ladies wearing the Colours of the Candidates, Blue
and Yellow, but only for an Excuse to deck themselves out with Ribbons!
In the Streets, Horsemen galloping to and fro, to tell the
State of the Polls, and the Mob cheering and bantering them, mighty
droll. <span class="smcap">'Squire Callow</span> did put up at the Barley-Mow, and <span class="smcap">Mr.
Fairport</span> at the Rising Sun, and between the two Inns, with a
few plump rosy Farmers in Top-Boots, was a noisy Rabble, quarrelling
and fighting, with Skins unwashed, and unshorn Muzzles,
whom the Candidates' Committee-Men, speaking to them from
the Windows, did call Free and Independent Electors. To some
that harangued them, the Mob did cry, "Go Home," and "Who
cheated his Washerwoman?" or, "How about the Workhouse
Beef?" yet listened to a few that were familiar and cracked old
Jokes with them. Presently they addressed by the Candidates in
Turn; and nasty to see them pelt each Speaker with stale Eggs.
But to hear, as well as might be for the Shouting and Hissing,
<span class="smcap">'Squire Callow</span> promising the Farmers to restore the Corn Laws,
and laying the Potato Blight and late Sickness to Free Trade; while
<span class="smcap">Mr. Fairport</span> did as loudly charge all the Woes and Grievances
of the Country on the Landlords. By-and-by, <span class="smcap">Mr. Fairport</span>,
the Poll going so much against him, did give in, and then <span class="smcap">'Squire
Callow</span> come forward, and make a brave Speech about our Glorious
Institutions and the British Lion, and so away to have his Election
declared, to the Town Hall, in a Carriage and Four, and the
Rabblement after him. Then they left behind did set to on both
Sides to fling Stones, and <span class="smcap">'Squire Callow's</span> Mob did break the
Windows of the Rising Sun, and <span class="smcap">Mr. Fairport's</span> the Windows
of the Barley-Mow; which the Townsmen did say would be good
for the Glaziers, and <span class="smcap">Mr. Wagstaffe</span> do observe that the Conservative
<span class="smcap">'Squire Callow</span> hath destructive Constituents. What with
Publicans, and Lawyers, and Damage, the Election will cost the
Candidates £6000 or £7000 a-Piece, and to think what a good
Motive one must have to become a Parliament-Man, that will spend
so much Money for the Chance of a Seat.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_A_PARTIE_OF_SPORTSMEN_OUT_A" id="Illustration_A_PARTIE_OF_SPORTSMEN_OUT_A"></a>
<a href="images/069a.png">
<img src="images/069.png" width="400" height="316" alt="A PARTIE OF SPORTSMEN OUT A
SHUTYNGE." title="" /></a>
<h2>A PARTIE OF SPORTSMEN OUT A
SHUTYNGE.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Monday</span>, <i>October 1, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">Up mighty betimes, and to Brushwood for
a Day's Shooting, by Invitation from <span class="smcap">Mr. Tibbitts</span>, whose Father,
the rich Furrier, did die the other Day, and leave him a Fortune,
and now he hath rented Brushwood Manor to shoot over for the
Season. But Lack, what a set of young Rogues I found there of
<span class="smcap">Tibbitts</span> his Acquaintance, a-smoking of Cigars and short Pipes,
and a-drinking of Ale and bottled Stout at 10 o'clock of the Morning!
Mighty ashamed of, though diverted with, my Company, to
hear their loose and idle Conversation, and how none of them
could pronounce the letter H, and to think what an unlettered vulgar
Fellow <span class="smcap">Tibbitts</span> is, and that I should demean myself to associate
with such a Companion only because of his Riches, and Wine,
and Dinners. One of the Party, <span class="smcap">Wiggyns</span>, did tell me we should
have a prime Lark, which, this being the first Day of Pheasant-Shooting,
I did think droll; but divers Larks, indeed, were shot before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>
the Day was over. So we into the Fields, and a Keeper following
us with the Dogs, and, whenever I did look over my Shoulder,
did catch him grinning and making Faces behind our Backs. But
strange, to see how much better the Rogues did shoot than I expected,
though firing at Tom-Tits, or anything almost, and do understand
they got this Skill at the Red House, Battersea, through
popping at Pigeons and Sparrows let loose from a Trap; which do
seem but a cruel and a barbarous kind of Sport. But little Birds
were not all they shot, for one <span class="smcap">Higges</span> aiming at a Hare did miss,
and instead of the Hare hit one of the Dogges, and sent him yelping
and limping Home. But good Lack, to see how careless the
Fellows were with their Fire-Arms, carrying their Guns, full-cocked,
pointing right in one another's Faces, and one, dragging his
Piece through a Hedge after him, it went off, but finding it had
only carried off the Skirt of his Shooting-Coat, we had a good
Laugh of it. Another, with a double-barrelled Gun, having shot
off one Barrel at a Blackbird, I did see reloading; the other Barrel
being still loaded and at full Cock. He, forcing down the Ramrod
with all his Might, I did catch him by the Elbow, and point
to the Cock of the Gun, and methinks I did never see a Man on
a Sudden tremble so terribly, or grow so pale. Getting beyond
Brushwood, into a Field hard by, <span class="smcap">Mr. Wiggyns</span> did let fly at some
Ducks, for one of those Larks he had been talking of, which did
bring down upon us the Farmer, with his Bull-Dog, and cause us
to make off with all the Speed we could. I in mighty Dread of being
seized as an Accomplice in shooting the Duck, fearing the Farmer,
who is horridly enraged with the Game-Preserving at Brushwood,
for that the Game do eat up his Crops; and, truly, the Game
Laws are a great Nuisance. Home from our Shooting, with our
Bag, carried by <span class="smcap">Tibbitts</span> his Tiger-Boy, very full, with a Brace or
two of Pheasants and Partridges, but many more Brace of Chaffinches,
and Yellow-Hammers, and Robin Redbreasts, and so to
Dinner, where all very merry, and so to Bed.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_YE_WYNE_VAULTS_AT_YE_DOCKS" id="Illustration_YE_WYNE_VAULTS_AT_YE_DOCKS"></a>
<a href="images/071a.png">
<img src="images/071.png" width="400" height="280" alt="YE WYNE VAULTS AT YE DOCKS.
SHOWYNGE A PARTYE TASTYNGE." title="" /></a>
<h2>YE WYNE VAULTS AT YE DOCKS.
SHOWYNGE A PARTYE TASTYNGE.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Thursday</span>, <i>October 11, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">To the Docks, to meet <span class="smcap">Mr. Soker</span>, and go
over the Wine Vaults with a Tasting-Order, and taste the Wine
there before it hath undergone any Roguery for the Market. Found
there <span class="smcap">Soker</span>, and <span class="smcap">Mr. Wagstaffe</span>, and <span class="smcap">Swilby</span>, and <span class="smcap">Swype</span>, and
<span class="smcap">Sharpe</span>, and with them <span class="smcap">Mr. Goodfellowe</span>, who had gotten <span class="smcap">Soker</span>
the Order. First to the Quay, heaped with Barrels of Wine, and
one huge Barrel, they did tell me, holding 625 Gallons, hoisted ashore,
<span class="smcap">Mr. Wagstaffe</span> did say, by an Adjutant, or Gigantic Crane.
Then, through all Manner of Casks and Tubs, and Bales of Merchandise,
to St. Katherine's Dock, and down to the Vault, where
a Cooper forthwith did wait on us with a Couple of Glasses, and
gave each Man a flat Stick with a Lamp at the farther End, to see
our Way. The Vault almost quite dark, only lighted by Sconces
from the Roof, and the farthest Sconce looking half-a-mile off, and
all this Space full of Barrels of Wine! The Roof supported by
Rows of Columns; and the Vault altogether like the Crypt of a vast
Cathedral, but sweeter; the Air smelling of Wine very strong, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>
alone did make me feel giddy. Strange to see the Mildew hanging
in all Sorts of Forms from the Roof, which many do mistake for
Cobwebs, but some call Fungus, and <span class="smcap">Dr. Limbeck</span>, the Chymist,
do tell me is mostly Nitrate of Lime. The Cooper did lead us to
the Wine we were to taste, and pretty to see him tap the Barrel by
boring a Hole in it with a Gimlet. We did drink, all round, a good
Ale-glass each of excellent Sherry, all except <span class="smcap">Mr. Sharpe</span>; and
I did wonder to see him taste the Wine, and call it rare good Stuff,
and yet spit it out, but found by and by that he was wise. Next,
to the London Dock; and <span class="smcap">Mr. Goodfellowe</span> did give us Biscuit,
and recommend us to eat, and I did take his advice, and glad
I did. Here, more Curiosities in Mildew, hanging from the Roof;
and one a Festoon as big as the great Sausage in the Pork-Shop
at the Corner of Bow Street. A good Story from the Cooper, of a
Visitor that took a Specimen of the Mildew away in his Hat, and
with the Moisture of his Head, it melted and blackened his Face,
and served him right, that—like more than enough Sight-Seers—could
not keep his Hands from Picking. To several Vaults, and tasted
Wine in each; all very vast, but the East Vault the biggest,
and do contain more thousand Pipes, and cover more Acres than
I doubt, by Reason of the Wine I drunk, I can remember. By
this Time, our Party very jolly and noisy, and did begin to dance
and sing, and flourish their Lamps like Playhouse Devils; and methought
I did see the Meaning of the Notice outside, that Ladies
could not be admitted after 1 o'Clock. Coming into the open Air,
could scarcely stand; and <span class="smcap">Mr. Goodfellowe</span> did see them into
Cabs, and I home on Foot—straight as I could go—and my Wife
wondering at the Redness of my Nose. Good Lack! to see the
Quantity of Goods and Wine in the Docks; and to think what a
great and mighty Nation we are, and what Oceans of Liquor we
do swill and guzzle!</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_A_WEDDYNGE_BREAKFASTE" id="Illustration_A_WEDDYNGE_BREAKFASTE"></a>
<a href="images/073a.png">
<img src="images/073.png" width="400" height="326" alt="A WEDDYNGE BREAKFASTE." title="" /></a>
<h2>A WEDDYNGE BREAKFASTE.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Monday</span>, <i>October 22, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">Up, and to Church together with my Wife,
to see <span class="smcap">Pall Harley</span> married this Morning to <span class="smcap">Dick Baker</span>; on
both Sides mighty genteel People, and their Guests, all except
ourselves, such as they do call Carriage-Company. <span class="smcap">Pall</span>, in a
Dress of White Satin, and Orange Flowers in her Hair, very
pretty and demure, and <span class="smcap">Dick</span>, wearing a Sky-Blue Coat, Crimson
Velvet Waistcoat, Yellow Moleskin Trousers, and Japanned
Boots; with Lavender Kid Gloves, and a Carbuncle in his Shirt-Front,
a great Buck. <span class="smcap">Dick</span> and every Man of us with great
White Favours at our Breasts, mighty conspicuous and, methought,
absurd, the Things serving neither for Use nor Ornament.
But to see how grand were old fat <span class="smcap">Mr. Harley</span> and <span class="smcap">Mr.
Baker</span>, and how more grand were their fat Wives, and how fine
and serious they looked and how high they carried their Noses!
And when the Ring was put on <span class="smcap">Pall's</span> Finger (<span class="smcap">Dick</span> first having
fumbled for it in the wrong Pocket), her Mother did weep,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>
and falling for stay on <span class="smcap">Mr. Harley</span>, nigh overthrew him. But
the pretty modest Bridesmaids did most of all take me; which
my Wife observing, I saw, did trouble her. The Ceremony over,
and the Fees paid, and the Bride kissed by some of the old Gentlemen,
we to old <span class="smcap">Harley's</span> to Breakfast, where what <span class="smcap">Wiggyns</span> do
call a Grand Spread, very fine both for Show and Meats, every
Dish ornamented with Flowers and Gimcracks, the cold Chickens
trimmed with Ribbons, and the Bride-Cake, having upon it Wax
<span class="smcap">Cupids</span> and Turtle-Doves, was pretty. So down we sat, <span class="smcap">Dick</span> stiff
and sheepish, and <span class="smcap">Pall</span> also, shamefaced, and trying to hide her
Blushes with a Nosegay. <span class="smcap">Pall's</span> Mother in Tears, and her Father
solemn, and the Bridesmaids mostly bashful, but a little black one
that sate by me very merry, and I did by-and-by pull Crackers
with her, till my Wife suddenly thrust a Pin into my Arm, to the
Quick. The Company first silent, till a Friend of the young Pair,
who did say he had known them both from Babies, did propose
their Health in a pretty pathetic but confused Speech, and breaking
down in the Midst of a Sentence, conclude by wishing them
long Life and Happiness, with great Applause. Then the Bride-Groom
to return Thanks, but, perplexed with his Pronouns, obliged
to stop short too, but, he said, overcome by his Feelings.
The Champagne flowing, we soon merrier, especially an old Uncle
of <span class="smcap">Dick's</span> who began to make Jokes, which did trouble the
Bride and Bride-Groom. But they presently with much Crying
and Kissing, and Shaking of Hands, away in a Coach-and-Four,
amid the Cheering of the Crowd in the Street and the Boys shouting
to behold the fine Equipage; and Servants and old Women
looking on from the opposite Windows. We eating and drinking
with great Delight till late in the Afternoon, but at last broke up,
the Multitude saluting us each as we stepped into the Street, and
the Policeman and Beadle that were guarding the Door in great
State, touching their Hats. A grand Marriage Breakfast do give a
brave Treat to the Mob, in Show, and to the Company in Eating
and Drinking, and is great Fun to all but those most concerned.
But to think what a Fuss is made about most Marriages, and how
little Reason for it is shown by most People's married Life.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_A_THEATRE_SHOWYNGE_YE_HOUSE" id="Illustration_A_THEATRE_SHOWYNGE_YE_HOUSE"></a>
<a href="images/075a.png">
<img src="images/075.png" width="400" height="320" alt="A THEATRE, SHOWYNGE YE HOUSE
AMUSED BY YE COMYCKE ACTOR." title="" /></a>
<h2>A THEATRE, SHOWYNGE YE HOUSE
AMUSED BY YE COMYCKE ACTOR.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Friday</span>, <i>October 26, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">To the old House in the Market, where I
would fain have seen <i>Macbeth</i>, for the Acting as well as the Divertisement;
but this not the Night, so went Half-Price, and did see
the <i>Unpolished Gem</i>, instead. <span class="smcap">Touchstone</span> did play <i>Brother Dick</i>,
a Country Clown, and his Figure, in a Coat short in the Waist,
a huge striped Waistcoat, Trousers too big for him tucked up at
the Ankles, Hob-Nail Boots, and a great ill-shaped Hat, mighty
droll, and did move the People to clap their Hands and laugh the
Moment he come on the Stage. Then did he take off his Hat, and
show a red-cropped Head, and smooth down his Hair, and make
a Face upon the Audience, whereat they did laugh again, and then
turning round show them a Back View of himself, which made
them laugh the more. Still greater Laughter the Moment he opened
his Mouth, and I did laugh too, as much as any, though I heard
not what he said; but only for the Oddness of his Voice, which is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>
such that methinks I could not keep my Countenance to hear him,
even if he were speaking <i>Hamlet</i>. Mighty droll to see him in a fine
House make himself at Home after the Fashion of a Bumpkin, and
hear him in his rustical Drawl and Twang relate all the News and
Tattle of his Village. What with his clodhopping Gait, and Awkwardness,
and Independence, and Impudence, he did make, methinks,
the veriest Lout I did ever see, even in Hampshire. His
politeness even droller than his Rudeness, and his Ploughboy
Courtesy of kissing his Hand as comical as could be. But I know
not well whether I do more prefer his Cocknies or his Clowns; for
methinks I have seen him do a Snob as well as a Clodpole, and he is
very good in both, whether a rustical Booby or a Whippersnapper
Spark; and do use V for W, and misuse or drop his H, and talk
the Flash and Cant of the Town mighty natural. But to think how
we English People do take Delight in everything that is ridiculous;
and how I have seen a Theatre ringing with Merriment at
the Sight of <span class="smcap">Touchstone</span> in a Paper Cap and Apron, with a Baker's
Tray, and a Bell, crying "Muffins!" or eating with his Mouth
full; or even putting his Arms a-Kimbo, or pulling his Hat over
his Eyes, and some of the Audience, and myself too, in Fits almost
with Laughter. Methinks that Foreigners are wrong to suppose
that we are a melancholy People, and would give up this Notion
if they could see us at a broad Farce, and how easily we are pleased,
and what Straws will tickle us almost to Death. Home, my Sides
aching by Reason of <span class="smcap">Touchstone's</span> Drolleries, and truly he do
make a mighty excellent roguish Buffoon. So to Bed mimicking
<span class="smcap">Touchstone</span> his Voice to my Wife, which did divert her mightily.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_A_PROSPECTE_OF_YE_ZOOLOGICAL_SOCIETYE" id="Illustration_A_PROSPECTE_OF_YE_ZOOLOGICAL_SOCIETYE"></a>
<a href="images/077a.png">
<img src="images/077.png" width="400" height="318" alt="A PROSPECTE OF YE ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETYE
ITS GARDENS. FEEDYNGE YE BEASTS." title="" /></a>
<h2>A PROSPECTE OF YE ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETYE
ITS GARDENS. FEEDYNGE YE BEASTS.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Monday</span>, <i>October 29, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">To the Zoological Gardens, in the Regent's
Park, at 3 p.m., in Time to see the Otter fed with live Fishes, which
he do chase round his Basin in the Water, and dive after mighty
clever. Then to the Wild Beasts, hungry, in a terrible Rage, as I
have seen others than Wild Beasts waiting for Dinner. Some of
the Dens with Trees in them for the Beasts to climb in; Lions,
old and young, Lionesses, He and She Tigers, a Jaguar, an Ounce,
a Cheetah, a Spotted and Black Leopard: and on the other side
Hyænas, and Pumas, and more Leopards, and Bears. Their Yelling
and Howling for Hunger a most horrid Musique, while the Tigers
rear on their hind Legs, and dash at their Bars, and grin and glare
at the Children outside. The Ramping and Roaring doubled when
the Keeper come with the Meat, and Lack! how they did fly at it
with Teeth and Claws, and howl and snort over it, and munch and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>
crunch the Bones! But one Hyæna droll, the Keeper passing him
by, and he, thinking he was to go without his Meal, throwing himself
on his Back, and moaning, and crying in Despair. Pretty, to
see the Bears in their Pit climb up their Post for Buns; which the
Visitors did hold to them on the End of a long Stick, and them below
fighting for the Morsels that fell; and their Clumsiness, and
awkward Standing on their hind Legs. The White Bear, also,
swimming in his Tank, pleasant, I being on the outside of his Cage.
A fine old Wolf and Cubs, but snarling and snapping over their Victuals,
seemed not a Happy Family. Saw the Eagles and Vultures
Prey, treading on their Meat, and tearing it up with their Beaks;
the Eagles brave, but the Vultures look ignoble. Yet fine the
Great Condor Vulture, when the Wind blew, stretching forth his
Wings upon it; and glad, no doubt, would have been to sail away.
The Parrots gay; but so shriek and squall, that their Abode do
seem the Madhouse of the Place. Much taken with the Seal swim
in the Water, and waddle out on his Stomach with his Tail and
Flappers, like a Fellow with his Legs tied for a Wager. Diverted
by the Gambols and Antics of the Monkeys and Apes: yet ashamed
to see such vile Likenesses of ourselves: and the Apes especially;
and the Crowd of Women and Ladies gazing at them! With
Pleasure, yet Horror, did view the Snakes and Lizards in the Reptile
House, and glad they could not get at me; but hoped to see the
Boa Constrictor swallow a live Rabbit: but did not. Bought Gingerbread
Nuts to feed the Elephant, cost me 2d. and he did please
me, but I wished he had been bigger; but the Rhinoceros did give
me great Delight, and with Mirth heard a Countryman standing
by, call him the Hog in Armour. The Bison, with his huge shaggy
Head and Mane, Horns, and fiery Eyes, do look the most like a
Demon I ever did see. To the Camel-Leopards, graceful Creatures;
after the Bison and Rhinoceros. Then about the Gardens
to watch the People and the Children stare at, and feed and poke
the Animals. Did mark some pretty Damsels, and, having done
gazing at the Beasts, gaze at them. So Home, and described to my
Wife what I had seen, except the Damsels, and did discourse with
her of Natural History; which the Zoological Gardens do breed
a pretty Taste for among the People.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_WESTMINSTER_HALL_SHOWYNGE_YE" id="Illustration_WESTMINSTER_HALL_SHOWYNGE_YE"></a>
<a href="images/079a.png">
<img src="images/079.png" width="400" height="320" alt="WESTMINSTER HALL, SHOWYNGE YE
CEREMONYE OF OPENYNGE TERME." title="" />
</a>
<h2>WESTMINSTER HALL, SHOWYNGE YE
CEREMONYE OF OPENYNGE TERME.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Friday</span>, <i>November 2, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">Up, and by Appointment to <span class="smcap">Mr. Wagstaffe's</span>,
and so with him to Westminster Hall, to see my <span class="smcap">Lord Chancellor</span>
and the Judges, after Breakfast with my Lord, this being the
first Day of Michaelmas Term, open the Law Courts in State, in
their Robes and Wigs. We there at 12, the Hour set for the Ceremony,
but, we found, only for the Beginning of it by Breakfast,
which had we thought of, we had taken our Time, as knowing that
my Lords would be sure to take theirs. So clear that we must have
Patience, <span class="smcap">Mr. Wagstaffe</span> did say, like many besides us in Westminster
Hall. So out to look at the New Houses of Parliament,
and how the Masons speed with the Building, which will be mighty
fine when it is done, and <span class="smcap">Mr. Transom</span> do commend the Style,
and I too, both for the Proportions and also for the Heraldry and
Lions. Then back again to the Hall, where now a few more
People; and presently comes marching in a Party of Policemen,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>
large enough to have taken up all present, and yet hardly have had
one Prisoner a-piece; But the Numbers did by Degrees increase,
and were, I did note, mostly of the better Sort; thank the Police.
Among them divers Barristers-at-Law, some with their Sisters,
some with their Wives, or such as did seem like to be their Wives,
many of whom mighty comely Damsels, and were a Sight I never
expected, not thinking they could care for Law Matters, or to see
the Judges, 2d.; but strange how Women do flock to every Concourse,
whether it be to see or only to be seen. There for the first
Time I did behold <span class="smcap">Mr. Tomkyns</span>, the young Barrister, in his Wig,
wherein he do look mighty sedate, and I telling him I hoped he
would come to open Term himself, made answer as it might be
some while first, he wished I might live to see it. The people now
crowding about the Doors of the Courts, the Police did make a
Lane between them for my <span class="smcap">Lord Chancellor</span> and the Judges
to walk down, and <span class="smcap">Mr. Wagstaffe</span> did call it Chancery Lane.
My Lords still not coming, he did observe that now we had a Sample
of the Law's Delay, and did pleasantly lay the Lateness of the
Breakfast to the Account of the <span class="smcap">Master of the Rolls</span>. But
they at last come, and we opposite the Court of Common Pleas
got a good View of them to my Heart's Content. First comes the
Mace, and a gentleman in his Court Suit, wearing a Sword and
Bag, and with them the Great Seal; then my <span class="smcap">Lord Chancellor</span>,
and did walk down to his Court at the end of the Hall, looking
the better of his Sickness, which I was glad of. After him the other
Judges, of whom most did enter the Door whereby we were, and
mighty reverend they looked, but merry and in good Humour,
and beamy and ruddy after their Breakfast. But to see <span class="smcap">Mr. Justice
Talfourd</span> come last of all, shaking Hands with his Friends
on both Sides, he newly made a Judge, being a Poet, did most content
me; and <span class="smcap">Mr. Wagstaffe</span> did say he looked in good Case
and by no means <i>puisne</i>. The Judges all entered, the Rabblement
let into the Hall, and we away, fearing for our Pockets;
which are like to be very soon emptied in Westminster Hall.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_A_PROSPECTE_OF_YE_5TH_OF_NOVEMBER" id="Illustration_A_PROSPECTE_OF_YE_5TH_OF_NOVEMBER"></a>
<a href="images/081a.png">
<img src="images/081.png" width="400" height="321" alt="A PROSPECTE OF YE 5TH OF NOVEMBER" title="" /></a>
<h2>A PROSPECTE OF YE 5TH OF NOVEMBER</h2>
</div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Monday</span>, <i>Nov. 5, 1849</i>.—<span class="smcap">Guy Fawkes' Day.</span><br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">At Breakfast this Morning off a new-laid
Egg, cost me 2d., but cheap for the Time of Year, did hear a shrill
Hallooing in the Street, which my Wife told me was made by the
Boys, going by with their <span class="smcap">Guy Fawkes</span>. So on this, <span class="smcap">Guy Fawkes</span>
his Day, did in Haste swallow my Breakfast, put on my Boots and
Over-Coat, and so out and about the Streets and Squares to see
the Sport, the Bells ringing for Church, and a Scarecrow of a <span class="smcap">Guy</span>,
borne by Urchins on a Handbarrow, with Rough Musique at almost
every Turn and Corner. <span class="smcap">Guy Fawkes</span> his Effigies, with his
Fingers sticking out like Spikes, and his Feet all awry, his Body
and Limbs stuffed with Straw, a Mask for his Face, with a Pipe
in the Mouth, and a Lantern and Tinder-Box dangling from his
Wrist, and on his Head a Paper Cap, like an old Grenadier's, but
a Cross on it, and meant for the <span class="smcap">Pope</span> his Crown. I thought to
see <span class="smcap">Guy</span> with his Company, borne by the Police in State to the Station<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>
House, but they this Year mostly let alone, and more <span class="smcap">Guys</span>,
and ragged Regiments of Boys shouting after them, than ever.
The Varlets, as they went, repeating Doggrel Verses, bidding to
remember the Day, and asking whomsoever they met for Money
for a Bonfire to burn their <span class="smcap">Guy</span>, and did beg of me; but I would
not fling my Money into the Fire. But Lack to think of the Delight
I do take in <span class="smcap">Guy Fawkes</span>, because of his ridiculous Figure,
and recollecting how I loved to play with Fireworks on this Day
when a Boy; though I know what a Libel is the Holyday on the
Roman Catholiques, and the good Reason, though the Doggrel
say to the contrary, why Gunpowder Treason should be forgot.
But some, who should have known better, did give the Rogues
Halfpence and encourage them in a show of Bigotry; albeit the
young Ragamuffins know not what it do mean, and care only for the
Frolick and Halfpence. From Westminster, by the Back Ways
and Streets to Fleet Street, Squibs and Crackers in the Courts and
Alleys fizzing and bouncing all the Way, and did in Fleet Street
dine at a Chop-house, cost me, with Beer and Punch, 2s.; and so
to Tower Hill, where the Banging and Blazing of the Fireworks the
greatest of all; and the Roman Candles and Pin-wheels mighty
pretty; but some letting off Guns and Pistols put me in Fear.
Here presently I did hear a Popping and Cracking behind me;
which was a Cracker pinned by some Scapegrace to my Coat-Tail,
and did make me jump, and the Standers-by to laugh: which did
vex me to the Heart; and <span class="smcap">Mr. Gregory</span> do say, served me right
for countenancing such Doings. But to see the Mob flinging Serpents
at each other, and burning and singeing one another like
Devils, did much divert me, till a Squib whizzing past me did scorch
me in the Face. Truly <span class="smcap">Guy Fawkes</span> his Day this Time was mighty
well kept, and <span class="smcap">Mr. Howlett</span> do say its better Observance is a
revival of Protestant Spirit; but I do agree with <span class="smcap">Mr. Wagstaffe</span>
that Protestancy is not a Doctrine of Fireworks, and must own it
were better to bury <span class="smcap">Guy Fawkes</span>, and not burn him any more.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_A_BANQUET_SHOWYNGE_YE_FARMERS" id="Illustration_A_BANQUET_SHOWYNGE_YE_FARMERS"></a>
<a href="images/083a.png">
<img src="images/083.png" width="400" height="316" alt="A BANQUET SHOWYNGE YE FARMERS'
FRIEND IMPRESSYNGE ON YE AGRICULTURAL INTEREST THAT IT IS RUINED." title="" /></a>
<h2>A BANQUET SHOWYNGE YE FARMERS'
FRIEND IMPRESSYNGE ON YE AGRICULTURAL INTEREST THAT IT IS RUINED.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Monday</span>, <i>November 19, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">By Rail to Clod's Norton, to my old Country
Friend <span class="smcap">Mr. Giles</span> the Farmer, and with him to the Meeting and
yearly Dinner of the North Gruntham Agricultural Society at
Grumbleton, at the Plantagenet Arms. A mighty fine and great
Dinner; and the Appetite of the Company droll to observe, and
hear <span class="smcap">Mr. Giles</span> declare that all the Farmers were starving. I did
mightily admire the Breadth and Bigness of the Countrymen, and
their round Faces like the Sign of the Rising Sun, but not so bright,
for though ruddy, looking glum. My <span class="smcap">Lord Mountbushel</span> in the
Chair, very grand and high and mighty, yet gently demeaning himself,
and did pledge them about him in Wine with an Obeisance the
most stately I think that I did ever see a Man, and wish I could do
like him, and with Practice hope to be able. The Dinner over, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>
the <span class="smcap">Queen</span> drunk, and the Royal Family, and also the Church and
Army and Navy all drunk, the Chairman did propose the Toast of
the Evening, which was, Prosperity to the North Gruntham Agricultural
Society, and made a Speech, and did tell his Hearers that
they and the whole Farming Body were going to the Dogs as fast
as they could go; whereat, strange to hear them applaud mightily.
He ended his Speech by saying he hoped Gentlemen would that
Evening, according to Custom, keep clear of Politics, which Rule
<span class="smcap">Squire Hawebucke</span> next rising to speak, did promise he would
observe, and forthwith made a violent Harangue against <span class="smcap">Sir Robert
Peel</span> and <span class="smcap">Mr. Cobden</span>. After him got up <span class="smcap">Mr. Flummerie</span>,
and with great Action, and thumping the Table, spoke for Half-an-Hour,
with most brave Flourishes both of his Fists and of Language.
He did tell his Audience that they must be up and stirring,
and quit them like good Men and true, and did exhort them to rally
round the Altar and Throne, and nail their Colours to the Mast,
and range themselves under the Banner of Protection; which he
did say was a Flag that had braved 1,000 Years the Battle and the
Breeze, and if so, should, methinks, be by this time in Tatters. He
did say that the British Lion had been long asleep, but was now at
last aroused, which do seem a simple Saying, the British Lion being
only a fabulous Beast, like the Unicorn, also in the Royal Arms.
But to hear how the Company did cheer at this Mouthing, albeit
it was the veriest Cant and Stuff; for, good Lack! to think of the
Monarchy and Church, and all Morals, Religion, and Government,
depending on the price of Wheat! After more Speeches in the
same Strain, the British Labourer his Health drunk, and then the
Prizes given out; and an old Man of 80, for bringing up a Family
without costing the Parish 1d. in 50 Years, did receive £1, and
others for honest Service nigh as long, a Jacket, a Smock Frock,
or a Pair of Hob-Nail Boots, in Reward of Merit. The Toasts and
Speech-making lasted till late, and then we broke up, the Farmers
mighty merry, though grumbling, but not more than their Wont,
at the Laws and the Weather, but their best Friends say, will have
little to complain of either, if they will but mind their Business, and
turn seriously to improving their Husbandry.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_APPEARANCE_OF_YE_CRYMYNYAL" id="Illustration_APPEARANCE_OF_YE_CRYMYNYAL"></a>
<a href="images/085a.png">
<img src="images/085.png" width="400" height="317" alt="APPEARANCE OF YE CRYMYNYAL
COURTE DURING AN "INTERESTYNG" TRYAL FOR MURDER." title="" /></a>
<h2>APPEARANCE OF YE CRYMYNYAL
COURTE DURING AN "INTERESTYNG" TRYAL FOR MURDER.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Friday</span>, <i>November 30, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">Up, and did take my Wife, with a Party of
Friends, to the Old Bailey, my Wife having a great Longing to
see a Prisoner tried, especially for Murder, and little Pleasure as
she do take, poor Wretch, I could not find in my Heart to deny
her this. Got our Places in the Gallery, cost me 10s., which did
begrudge, and do think it a Scandal to the City to have Money
taken at the Old Bailey Doors, as at a Play, yet it do serve to keep
the Company choice. And, good Lack! to see the Assemblage
of great Folks about us, we sitting close by <span class="smcap">Sir Jessamie Spinkes</span>,
and my <span class="smcap">Lord Pouncett</span>, and two or three other Lords on the
Bench by my Lords the Judges, and the Aldermen, did make the
Place look as fine almost as the Opera. But in Truth it was as good
as a Play, if not better, to hear the Barristers speak to the Jury,
especially the Counsel for the Prisoners, making believe to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>
mightily concerned for their Clients, though most observable Rogues,
and arguing in their Behalf through Thick and Thin, and
striving as hard as they could to prove the Black, that did come
out in Evidence against them, White; and pleading their Cause as
though they were injured Innocents, with smiting of the Breast,
and turning up of the Eyes, more natural than I remember I did
ever see any Actor. But methinks they did go a little <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'two'">too</ins> far when,
cross-examining the Witnesses, they strove to entangle them in
their Talk, and confound them, trying to make them blunder, so
as to mislead the Jury, which do seem to me only telling a Lie by
the Witness his Mouth. And then to hear them labour to destroy
the Witnesses' Credit, and make their Oath suspected; and them,
however honest, seem Perjurers; and to think that they do practise
all this Wickedness only for the Lucre of their Fees! Among
the Prisoners some of the most horrid Ruffians that methinks I
ever did see, and some, when found guilty and sentenced even to
Transportation, skipping out of the Dock, and snapping their Fingers,
which did remind me of the Saying, "Merry as Thieves."
But others looking mighty dismal, and when the Evidence did tell
against them, turning pale and shivering, and we had Eye-Glasses
we took with us on Purpose, and through our Eye-Glasses did
watch the Quivering of their Features, which, Heaven forgive us!
we did take Delight in. Using Eye-Glasses did the more make
it seem as if I were at a Play, and what did jump with the Notion
was the Bunches of Rue on the Dock in Front of the Prisoners,
seeming almost like Nosegays, which glad I am that my Wife
and our other Ladies had not with them, for so taken were they
with the ranting Barristers and hang-Gallows Ruffians, that I do
verily believe they would have flung their Posies to them if they
had. Strange that we do make such Account of Criminals, and
will sit for Hours to see how it goes with a Villain, when we would
not spare five Minutes to the Cause of many an honest Man. But
for one good Reason I did take Pleasure in the Old Bailey, which
was the Fairness of the Trials, and the Patience of the Judge, and
Justness of his summing up, which do cause me mightily to reverence
our Law, and to hear and see was pretty.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_A_PROMENADE_CONCERTE" id="Illustration_A_PROMENADE_CONCERTE"></a>
<a href="images/087a.png">
<img src="images/087.png" width="400" height="315" alt="A PROMENADE CONCERTE." title="" /></a>
<h2>A PROMENADE CONCERTE.</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Thursday</span>, <i>December 6, 1849</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">Did set me Wife, poor Wretch! this Evening
to mending my Socks, and myself to Drury Lane, to <span class="smcap">Monsieur
Jullien</span> his Concert. The first Part of the Concert all <span class="smcap">Dr. Mendelssohn</span>
his Musique, which I did long mightily to hear, and, so
to do in Comfort, buy a Ticket for the Dress Circle, cost me 2s. 6d.,
but found the Seats all full, and obliged to stand the whole While,
which made me mad, but a pretty full-eyed young Lady being
forced to stand too, and close by me, though with her Brother,
did comfort me a little, not that she could not sit, but that she was
by me. Heard a Symphony that did well please me, seeming to
lift me into the Clouds, and was mighty mystical and pretty; and
the Musique in the <i>Midsummer Night's Dream</i> did give me much
Delight, the Twittering throughout the Overture putting me in
Mind of Singing-Birds and Fairies and I know not what, and the
sleepy Passages very sweet and lulling. Mightily taken with the
Prelude to the Mock-Tragedy, <i>Bottom</i> his March, as droll Musique<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>
as I ever heard; but what did most of all delight me was the Wedding
March, a noble Piece, and I did rejoice therein, and do think
to hire a Band to play it under our Window on my Wedding Day.
<span class="smcap">Monsieur Jullien</span> in his white Waistcoat and with his Moustachios
mighty spruce and as grand as ever, and did conduct the
Musique, but so quietly in the first Part that I could scarce have
believed it, and methought showed Reverence for the Composer;
which was handsome. But good Lack! to see him presently, when
he come to direct "<i>God Save the Queen</i>," flourish his Batoon, and
act the mad Musician! All the Company rising and taking off
their Hats to hear that majestical Anthem, presently some most
ridiculous and impertinent Variations set all the House a laughing
and some hissing, and I do suspect <span class="smcap">Monsieur Jullien</span> had a
special Audience this night, that would not away with such Tricks.
Between the Parts of the Concert, I into the Pit to walk about among
the Sparks, where a great Press, the House crammed to the
Ceiling. In the Refreshment and Reading Rooms, young Blades
and Lasses drinking of Coffee and eating of Ices, and Reading of
the News, with Shrubs and Statues round about, and the House
all White and Gold, and brightly lighted, mighty gay; and the
Sparks jaunty, but not, I think, wearing such flaming Neckcloths
and Breast Pins as they were wont. Heard in Part second some
Musique of the <i>Prophète</i>, full of Snorting of Brass Instruments and
Tinkling of Triangles, and a long Waltz that did give me the Fidgets,
and nothing please me at all, save <span class="smcap">Jetty Treffz</span> her singing
of "<i>Trab, trab</i>," which was pretty. Lastly, the Row-Polka played,
and well-named and very droll and absurd, with Chiming-in of
Voices and other monstrous Accompaniments, a good ridiculous
rough Musique. But many of the Hearers did hiss, methought
with Unreason, the Polka being no emptier than any other Polka,
and having some Joke in it. Home, the Wedding March running
in my Head, and glad to find good Musique drawing so great a
House, which I do hope will be a Hint to <span class="smcap">Monsieur Jullien</span>.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_YE_SERPENTYNE_DURING_A_HARD" id="Illustration_YE_SERPENTYNE_DURING_A_HARD"></a>
<a href="images/089a.png">
<img src="images/089.png" width="400" height="299" alt="YE SERPENTYNE DURING A HARD
FROST. YE PUBLIQUE UPON IT." title="" /></a>
<h2>YE SERPENTYNE DURING A HARD
FROST. YE PUBLIQUE UPON IT.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Tuesday</span>, <i>January 29, 1850</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">Up, and after Breakfast, to which a new
laid Egg at this Time of Year cost me 2d., to Hyde Park to see the
Skating on the Serpentine, very admirable and mighty good Mirth.
The Members of the Skating Club, with their Booth by the Ice
mighty select, yet do as it were perform for the Amusement of the
British Publique. Pretty to see them cut out Figures of 8, and in
a Sort dance Quadrilles upon the Ice, which I very much wish I
could do myself, but cannot skate at all, and never could, but
whenever I tried to always tumbled down, generally a Squat, which
hurt me. Upon the Ice all sorts of People high and low, great and
little, old and young, Women and Children, indeed a Multitude of
the British Publique altogether. With their Hollaing and Shouting
a continual Roar like the Cawing and Clacking of innumerable
Rooks and Jackdaws. Pretty to see the Chairs and Forms on the
Brink of the Ice, where dirty Boys and Men do ply with Skates for
Hire, and kneeling and screwing and straping them on to Skater's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>
Feet turn a good Penny. Many fine Girls also, both fair and black,
skating in their warm Furs and Muffs mighty snug and elegant,
please me most of all; and a Troop of Schoolgirls walk two and two
along the Shore very pretty. Fun to see how the Skaters do throw
themselves into all manner of Postures, and how many of them
tumble down, and sprawl about, and roll over one another topsy-turvy,
and kick their Heels in the Air. Also the Unskilful beginning
to learn to skate helped on to the Ice, and an old Woman pulled
on by a lively Urchin, make me laugh heartily. But the most
ridiculous Sight the Lower Sort, not skating but sliding, Butcher
Lads, and Costermongers, and Street Boys with Sticks and Bludgeons
in their Hands, and some in their Mouths short Pipes, smoking
while they slide, which I wonder how they can. Good Lack, to
see them come the Cobbler's Knock as they say, and keep the Pot
a-boiling! Likewise how of a Fellow upon the Ice with a Potato
Can upon a Fire-Basket, they buy and eat roast Potatoes which
the Sellers cry <i>Taturs all hot!</i> The Street Boys, too, where the Ice
at the Sides thin, flock together nigh the Edge, and throw Stones
breaking the Ice, and I did hear one of the Varlets as his Pebble
crash through cry, "There goes a Window," and could not but
laugh, though I would fain have boxed his Ears. On Top of a Pole
in one Part of the Ice a Board marked "Dangerous," nevertheless
many so foolhardy as to skate close to it, until at last the Ice
broke and a Fool went in and was like to have drowned, but the
Humane Society's Men did come with Drags, and one of them
fish him out by the Scuff of his Trowsers, mighty laughable. They
carry him off to the Receiving House, where they chafe and wrap
him in warm Blankets to bring him to, and give him hot Brandy
and Water to recruit him and send him Home Comfortable, and
so reward him for his Folly, and encourage other Fools to imitate
his silly Example. Methinks such an idle Companion were well
served if, instead of getting hot Grog, he were sent Home with a
good Hiding.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_A_FASHIONABLE_CLUB_FOUR" id="Illustration_A_FASHIONABLE_CLUB_FOUR"></a>
<a href="images/091a.png">
<img src="images/091.png" width="400" height="290" alt="A FASHIONABLE CLUB. FOUR
O'CLOCK P.M." title="" /></a>
<h2>A FASHIONABLE CLUB. FOUR
O'CLOCK P.M.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Thursday</span>, <i>February 14, 1850</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">This Afternoon at four o'clock with <span class="smcap">Gubbyns</span>
to the Leviathan Club whereof he is a member, and do mean
to propose me to be a Member too which I very much wish, only
fear I may be black-balled but hope not. To-day he take me over
the Club to see it, which delight me much, and good Lack to see
how splendid the Building and the Carvings and Gildings of the
Walls and Windows, for all the World like a Palace, wherein a
private Man every Day of his Life may live like a King, as I should
like to. All the Rooms as full as could be of all Manner of Comforts
and Conveniences, especially the great Room where the Members
do sit in easy Chairs with well-stuffed soft Backs and Cushions
lined with lovely smooth shining Morocco Leather, or loll along on
Sofas and Ottomans the same, and read the Reviews and Papers and
are served by Footmen in Livery with Glasses of Sherry and Tumblers
of Brandy and Soda Water, all at their Ease, and enjoy such
Accommodation as I think I never could have imagined unless I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>
had seen. Curious to observe the different Readers and the Paper
each reading; a Parliament or City Man the Times, a Member, I
take it, of the Protestant Association at Exeter-Hall the Morning
Herald, another the Standard, newspapers the wits call Mrs. <span class="smcap">Gamp</span>
and Mrs. <span class="smcap">Harris</span>, which is great Roguery. Some in Groups stand
a gossiping, some looking out of Windows down on the People in
the Street as they go by, mighty agreeable to such as are well off,
and would give me very much Pleasure. Others with their Backs
to the Fire, and one methought a Country Squire striding in front
of the Grate, with his Hands behind him under his Coat Tails
warming himself and looking abroad over his Neckcloth, as though
upon his Parish, and as if he were Monarch of all he surveyed;
mighty dignified and droll. Likewise a Youth of some Condition,
but somewhat too like a Shopboy, in a pretty ridiculous Posture,
eyeing himself in a Pier Glass, did, with his walking Cane sticking
athwart his Arm, divert me. The Magazines, Guide Books, Post
Directories, and so on lying about on the Tables mighty handy,
and I did note also a Pack of Cards and hear some of the Club
Men do play. After going all over the Club-house, and the Lavatories
and all, <span class="smcap">Gubbyns</span> take me to dine with him in the Strangers'
Room, and a mighty good Dinner with excellent Claret, cost him
how much I did not like to ask, but no doubt much more cheap
and better than it would have come to in the cheapest tolerable
Inn. Thence, after dinner, to the Smoking Room to smoke a Cigar,
and drink Seltzer Water and Brandy, and, after Talk of the
News, and all the Rumour about Town, and a good deal of Scandal,
and some Roguish Conversation, Home, and so to Bed.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_THE_CIRCUS_AT_ASTLEYS" id="Illustration_THE_CIRCUS_AT_ASTLEYS"></a>
<a href="images/093a.png">
<img src="images/093.png" width="400" height="289" alt="THE CIRCUS AT ASTLEY'S." title="" /></a>
<h2>THE CIRCUS AT ASTLEY'S.</h2>
</div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Friday</span>, <i>March 8, 1850</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">To the Circus at Astley's late, so missed the
Grand Equestrian Drama, which vex me not much, for the Acting
only Horseplay. But in time to see the Horsemanship in the
Circle, which was what I wanted, and got a good Place in the
Boxes, but would have preferred the Pit, except for the Company,
which is of the Lower Sort, and there they do sit with their Hats
on, and eat Oranges and drink Soda Water and Ginger Beer, which
make me ashamed. Pretty riding on a Cream-coloured Horse
by a pretty black girl, and on horseback dancing carried a basket
of Flowers, and dance mighty pretty, but being above I could but
look down upon little but her Head, which did somewhat vex me
that I was not below in the Pit. Also a Fellow in the Dress of an
Italian Robber they call a Brigand ride on three Horses at once,
and please me I think as much as anything I ever saw in my Life.
One of the Horses he rode piebald, the others spotted, pretty to
see. Curious to observe the Riding Master continually smacking
his Whip to keep the Horses galloping close to the Circle, but above
all the Head Riding Master they call <span class="smcap">Widdicombe</span> in a Uniform<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>
with Epaulettes, as it were a Generalissimo, mighty pompous
and droll, divert me beyond measure, and good Lack to hear, between
the Horsemanship, the dialogues between <span class="smcap">Widdicombe</span>
and the Clown. As the Clown walking before <span class="smcap">Widdicombe</span> out
of the Ring, <span class="smcap">Widdicombe</span> say "Stop, Sir, go behind; I never follow
the Fool." "Don't you," say the Clown, "then I do," and walk
after him; which tickle me and make me laugh, so that I was like
to burst my Sides. And Lack to see the Dignity of <span class="smcap">Widdicombe</span>,
how grand he bear himself and look down upon the Clown as an
inferior Being, calling him generally Fool, or else sometimes
more gracious, Mr. Merriman. I do hear <span class="smcap">Widdicombe</span> is now an
old Man, but his Cherry Cheeks, and black Hair and Eyebrows,
make him look young, and his Waistcoat padded well out on the
Chest takes from his Paunch, and though no Doubt he be made
up, he make himself up mighty clever. All this while the Orchestra,
mostly of Brass, trumpeting and banging away the most suitable
Music to the Performance I think that ever could be played
except the Tongs and Bones. About me in the Boxes great Numbers
of Small Children, both Boys and Girls, some Babies almost,
enjoy the Spectacle as much as any, and I do like to see them, and
think they with their Mirth do make their Elders enjoy it all the
more, and did think I should have liked to have had some of my
own to take with me, but then thinking of the Expense of a Family
make me better content with None. The Horsemanship mighty
good Fun for the Children, but serious Entertainment to the
grown-up, and strange to see how earnest they sit and gaze and
stare with their Eyes wide open, and their Minds also fixed upon
the Horses, and to perceive that they who think so much of Horses
do commonly think very little upon much else, and how many
there be of that Sort among the English People. After Astley's
in a Cab to the Albion Tavern, where a Dish of Kidneys, a Welsh
Rarebit, a Pint of Stout, and a Go of Whisky cost me 3s., and so
Home in another Cab and so to Bed.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_YE_FATHERS_OF_YE_CHURCHE_GYVING" id="Illustration_YE_FATHERS_OF_YE_CHURCHE_GYVING"></a>
<a href="images/095a.png">
<img src="images/095.png" width="400" height="284" alt="YE FATHERS OF YE CHURCHE GYVING
JUDGMENTE UPON YE KNOTTYE POYNT." title="" /></a>
<h2>YE FATHERS OF YE CHURCHE GYVING
JUDGMENTE UPON YE KNOTTYE POYNT.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Saturday</span>, <i>March 9, 1850</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">To the Judicial Committee of Privy Council
to hear Judgment delivered in the great <span class="smcap">Gorham</span> Case, the Reverend
Mr. <span class="smcap">Gorham</span> against the <span class="smcap">Bishop</span> of <span class="smcap">Exeter</span> for refusing to institute
him to the Living of Bramford Speke, which the Bishop refuse
because Mr. <span class="smcap">Gorham</span> deny Baptismal Regeneration. The
Court of Arches gave sentence for the <span class="smcap">Bishop</span>, and <span class="smcap">Gorham</span> then
appeal to the Privy Council. A great Commotion among the
Clergy, and not a little among the People also. The High Church
hold, with the <span class="smcap">Bishop</span> of <span class="smcap">Exeter</span>, the same Opinion of Baptism
as the Catholiques, and the Low do side with <span class="smcap">Gorham</span> and the
Baptists and most other Dissenters. To the Council Chamber betimes,
and did get a good Place and hear very well. The Chamber
all the public Part of it crammed with as many People as could
well get in. Lack, to see what Numbers of the Clergy here, both
High Church and Low, and distinguish them by their Looks, and
their Dress, and particularly by their Ties and Waistcoats. Also<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>
present many Dissenters and Roman Catholiques, and among the
Catholiques I did note Bishop <span class="smcap">Wiseman</span> the Catholique Bishop
of Melipotamus, and Vicar Apostolique of the London District
in the front Row next my Lord the President's Chair, pricking up
his Ears. By and by in come the Lords of the Council and take
their places, mighty Grave, yet as they sit do seem to take it easy.
They sit at a Table in the midst of the Chamber, where, among
them, Lords Brougham and Campbell look mighty ill-favoured
and droll. Behind, towards the Bookshelves, the Lay Lords, but
with them a Bishop in his Knee Breeches and Apron, and a
Shovel Hat in his Hand. Among the Lay Lords the <span class="smcap">Earl</span> of <span class="smcap">Carlisle</span>,
a Great Nobleman, and do look noble, and very much
like <span class="smcap">Liston</span> the Player. Hush, and Silence, even the Ladies, of
whom some present in the Crowd, when my Lord <span class="smcap">Langdale</span> rise
to deliver Judgment, which he did mighty clever, and lay down
the Law, but no theological Argument, which I expected to hear,
but did not. For he said the Committee have no Authority to determine
Points of Doctrine, and whether Baptismal Regeneration
were true or false, but only whether the Clergy were bound to hold
it, or free to deny it, by the Thirty-nine Articles. And by that
Rule he gave Judgment for <span class="smcap">Gorham</span> against the <span class="smcap">Bishop</span>, and I
see not how he could have done otherwise, nor why the High
Church should be so aghast and angry, nor <span class="smcap">Wiseman</span> smile and
look so merry and scornful as he did, and seem so mightily diverted.
So the <span class="smcap">Bishop</span> will have to submit, and institute <span class="smcap">Gorham</span>,
or else resign his Bishoprick, which I dare swear he will not. Nor
do I much fear that many of the High Church Clergy will leave
the Church, as some prophesy, and turn Catholiques, and relinquish
the Loaves and Fishes. Methinks it is a mighty good Thing
that both High Church Clergy and Low are bound only by the
Articles as interpreted by the Law Lords in the Judicial Committee,
and not by themselves on either one Side or the other, for
of all Men methinks the Clergy of every Sect have less than any
of a Judicial Mind.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_A_JUVENILE_PARTYE" id="Illustration_A_JUVENILE_PARTYE"></a>
<a href="images/097a.png">
<img src="images/097.png" width="400" height="288" alt="A JUVENILE PARTYE." title="" /></a>
<h2>A JUVENILE PARTYE.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Wednesday</span>, <i>April 24, 1850</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">With my Wife this Evening to Mr. <span class="smcap">Hartley's</span>
to a Children's Party, but some grown up, and among them me
and my Wife, though we have no Children, which vex me, but
not much, for Children mighty expensive and cost money, and,
if I had them, would only force me to deny myself a great many
Pleasures I now enjoy, and could not then afford. A large Drawing
Room very fine, and well lighted up, and so many Children
of all Ages down to Babies almost as I think I did never before,
altogether in one room, see. Pretty to see how the little Boys and
Girls dance when <span class="smcap">Mynheer Schlamm</span> thump and bang the Piano,
and some of the very smallest taught to dance nearly as soon as
they could walk, and how they stand in Position and point their
Toes with heels close together, and arms hanging down, as they
do when the Dancing-Master teach them their dancing Lessons.
And to see how pleased all the Girls to dance, but not all the Boys,
but a good many of them look unhappy, yet pretty to observe how
a few little Boys make love to the little Girls, and one little Boy
offer a little Girl a Nosegay, like a young Gallant, and she take it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>
with the Air of a Coquette mighty pretty. But most of the Boys
make a great deal more Love to the good Things on the Tables;
the Sweets and Pastry, Jelly, Blanc-Mange, Tarts, Pies, Tipsy-Cake,
Trifle, and Ice-creams, and good Lack how they push, and
scramble, and hold out their plates, to get slices of Cake, while
<span class="smcap">Hartley</span> cut up a great rich Cake like a Twelfth-cake and share it
between them, and they eat and stuff all they can, and I fear me
some of them ill to-morrow if not before. Droll to see a little Boy
stand astride stuffing into his Mouth a Pie whole like a Pantomime
Clown. Another small Boy sitting down upon a Pile of
Plates set by on the Floor, they having been eaten from, in the
Remains of Trifle, cause great Laughter. So did a fat Dame with
her little Boy and Girl, and an Arm round each, like a great plump
Fowl, a Gizzard under one Wing and Liver beneath the other.
Droll to see <span class="smcap">Hartley's</span> little girl sit in her Grandmother's Chair
beside her Crutch, where her Grandmother hobbling in did find
her, and to think that she too will be such another old Woman,
one of these Days, if she live. Some of the bigger Boys public
School Boys, mighty grand, and a few wearing Spectacles like
young Owls. Mrs. <span class="smcap">Hartley's</span> Brother, Mr. <span class="smcap">St. Leger</span>, dress himself
like a Conjuror, in a conjuring Cap with magick Characters
on it, and conjure with Cards, and Oranges, and little Images,
and Dolls, mighty clever, and I do mean to get him if I can to
teach me. One Thing made me laugh heartily was to see the Page
they call <span class="smcap">Buttons</span> stand behind him while he conjure, <span class="smcap">Buttons</span>
with his Eyes staring wide open, and he grinning with his Mouth
from Ear to Ear. The young Folk after Supper to dance again,
and romp, and play at Blindman's Buff, and meanwhile the
elder sup too, and I and my Wife on cold Fowl and Ham, and
Lobster Salad, and Champagne, mighty merry, and so Home betimes
mighty comfortable, and methinks I do like a Children's
more than any other Evening Party, to see the Children and their
Elders also, play the Fool, and to break up, and get Home early,
and so with Content and Comfort to Bed.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_GRANDE_REVIEW" id="Illustration_GRANDE_REVIEW"></a>
<a href="images/099a.png">
<img src="images/099.png" width="400" height="333" alt="GRANDE REVIEW." title="" /></a>
<h2>GRANDE REVIEW.</h2>
</div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Wednesday</span>, <i>May 15, 1850</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">Up, and to St. James's Park, to see on the
Parade Ground, the Inspection, as usual upon the Queen's Birthday,
appointed to be celebrated beforehand this Day, of a Battalion
of the Coldstream and Grenadier Guards, and a Troop of
the Royal Horse Guards they call the Blues. Through a Friend
at Court, got, with a choice Few, a good Place, nigh the Sentry
with the Colours, where he stood to keep the Ground, and the
Publique at a Distance, where I also wish always to keep yet
pleased to see them. The Troops reviewed by the Commander
in Chief, Field Marshal the <span class="smcap">Duke</span> of <span class="smcap">Wellington</span>, and with him
the other Field Marshals, Prince <span class="smcap">Albert</span> and the <span class="smcap">Duke</span> of <span class="smcap">Cambridge</span>,
made Field Marshals I suppose for the martial Deeds
they would no doubt have done, if they had ever had the chance
in the Field. Field Marshal the <span class="smcap">Prince</span>, the Colonel of the Scots
Fusiliers, and Field Marshal the Royal <span class="smcap">Duke</span> of the Coldstream,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>
and the great Field Marshal the <span class="smcap">Duke</span> of <span class="smcap">Wellington</span>, Colonel
of the Grenadier Guards. Besides the Field Marshals, at their
Heels a great Staff of Officers, of Lancers and Hussars, and the
<span class="smcap">Earl</span> of <span class="smcap">Cardigan</span> among them, looking mighty fierce. The
<span class="smcap">Duke</span> of <span class="smcap">Wellington</span> at their Head riding gently along inspecting
his Regiment standing in their big Caps of Bearskin, which
do seem much too big for them though they mostly six feet high,
a mighty brave sight, yet a comical, as the men stood shouldering
Arms with their Heels together, and their Toes turned out like
the little Girls and Boys I did see dance at a Children's Party.
Glad to get so good a View as I had of the Duke, and wonderful
to see how well and firm he sits his horse, and he now fourscore-and-two
Years old, and to think what a great General he is and
do look, and with his Eagle Nose, very much resemble <i>Mr. Punch</i>.
The Officers of the Staff bestriding their Horses very gallant, and
the Horses most noble Animals and their prancing very pretty.
Good Sport to see a Dragoon ride keeping Order, flourish and
point drawn Sword at a fat old Woman who with a cotton Umbrella
and Arms spread all abroad in Terror, run out of his Way, and
Policemen with their Staves closing in as it were to catch the old
Woman. Other Policemen rushing to and fro, help the Soldiers
keep the Ground, and the British Publique back, and beat back
them that would fain press too forward with their staves. Pleasant
in a Place where plenty of Elbow-Room, to behold the British
Publique, around one in the Midst the Likeness of <span class="smcap">John Bull</span>,
perched on a Barrel, jostled one against the other, push and scramble
and tread upon one another's Toes, and tumble topsy-turvy
some of them and Head over Heels; when I had got comfortable
Standing in the meanwhile with a Dozen or so of the Better Sort,
and two or three Poodle and Terrier Dogs, in the Middle of the
Parade where the Troops were inspected, got in I suppose by Favour,
like me. But, good Lack, to think what playing at Soldiers
now a holiday Review like this do seem, and think at the same
time what serious Work the <span class="smcap">Duke</span> of <span class="smcap">Wellington</span> hath seen and
done in his Day, which how many seem to forget, and almost think
him a Humbug, and if ever and how soon we shall have the like
to do again, and find another such a Man, to do it.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_A_PIC-NIC" id="Illustration_A_PIC-NIC"></a>
<a href="images/101a.png">
<img src="images/101.png" width="400" height="290" alt="A PIC-NIC." title="" /></a>
<h2>A PIC-NIC.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Thursday</span>, <i>May 23, 1850</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">With my Wife to a Pic-nic Party. I to content
her more than to please myself, and to think how I always
study her Pleasure more than my own, and sacrifice my own Inclinations
to hers always. For I prefer to eat good Things off a
Plate or a Table, and not upon my Knees. Besides, the Fly hired
to carry us from Home and back, cost me three Guineas. The
Pic-Nic in my Lord Bilberry's Park, where the Ruins of an old
Abbey, open by my Lord's Allowance, People come to see from
all Parts, gipsying, and making merry and dancing basely among
the Ruins. These with mouldering Arches and Stones overgrown
with Moss, and Lichen, and Ivy, mighty venerable, and set off by
a Youth with long Hair and turned-down Collar, leaning on a
broken Pillar, striking an attitude and staring at the Sky, as though
musing on Infinity but in Truth fancying himself an Object of Admiration.
But, he wrapt up in that Mistake, and forgetting his
Meals, the rest intent altogether on the good Things from Fortnum
and Mason's and the Pastry Cook's; and good Lack to see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>
how they, to the Number of nigh forty Men, Women, and Girls,
pitch into the Ham and Chicken, and the Cold Meat and Lobster
Salad, and Pigeon and Veal and Ham Pie, and therewith drink
bottled Ale and Stout, whereof a fat Serving Man in Livery, hardly
drawing a Quart Bottle, mighty comical, and also a Page, who,
carrying Plates, kick against a Wasps' Nest and raise the Wasps
about his Ears and there he stand fighting them with a Knife, his
Face in the Centre of the swarm the Image of Horror. The
Younger Men mostly mighty Polite, they, and especially one with
a fine slim Figure and hooked Nose, with constrained Postures,
making Obeisance as they serve the Girls with Beer and Wine,
whereof they as well as the Men mostly drink their Whack, and
pretty to see how one most elegant Damsel seem falling into a
happy Dream and how with her Hair flowing all adown she droop
her Eyelids, muzzy. But some did get full of Fun, and a little
Rogue I see pour the Heel-tap of a Champagne Glass into the Face
of a Youngster, who, lying on his Back, had fallen on Sleep. The
Managers of the Collection also mighty attentive, doing the Honours,
and rare to see one of them, a fine portly Man, carve Slices
off Great Round of Beef, in high Glee. But another rising from
his Camp Stool to hand a Plate to a fine fat Dame, she and her
pretty Daughter suddenly frighted by a Toad and Frog, which
crawl and hop towards them out of some Flags by the Water, start
back in Horror, and startle him and make him upset several Wine
Glasses and the Water Can, and stamp on and smash a Plate. Among
the Elders worth noting a lean old Professor, and his Neighbour
a smug Lawyer how they gave their whole minds to most
serious Eating, and also one or two of the younger Men did nought
but stuff themselves; but most made Love; and pretty to see a
loving Couple clink Glasses together, while other Pairs having had
enough, saunter and strut about among and outside the Ruins.
Good Lack to think what a Deal we ate and drank between us, and
how famished on one Hand looked a lean old Labourer in a
Smock Frock with a chubby but hungry little Clown, eyeing the
picked Bones, while a Cur on the other did, in his Mouth, run
away with the Wing of a Fowl.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_VAUXHALL" id="Illustration_VAUXHALL"></a>
<a href="images/103a.png">
<img src="images/103.png" width="400" height="272" alt="VAUXHALL." title="" /></a>
<h2>VAUXHALL.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Monday</span>, <i>July 15, 1850</i>.<br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">This Evening to Vauxhall, where a Gala
Night and much Company, mostly of the middling Sort, except
the worse. Very few Gentlemen of any Condition do now visit
this Place, but plenty of the whippersnapper Sparks that Shopmen
used to call Gents, and a very good Word to distinguish them,
although a vile, as much as to say Snobs. The better Sort of all
there chiefly Medical Students. No Place for Ladies, but here
and there a respectable but stupid Farmer from the Country with
his Wife or Daughter. A bare, faded kind of a Garden, patched
with shabby Trees, variegated Lamps hanging to their Branches
among smoky Leaves. The Lamps do seem the main Attraction,
the Bill of Entertainments advertise 10,000 additional every Night,
which seems great Folly. However, the Outlines of all the Buildings
picked out with parti-coloured Lamps mighty gay. A wooden
Building on one Side called the Rotunda, where an Orchestra
and they sing, and opposite an Alcove where a Band in Uniform
play at the same Time Tunes which the Gents and their Partners
dance to, waltzing and spinning round like Teetotums, droll to
look upon. The Partners some pretty but nearly all ill-looking,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>
and one or two horribly ill-favoured, and to see the People sit and
look on, and among them a fat Country Wife, and prim starched
old Maid very thin, make me ashamed. Also a fat singing Woman
sung a Song, not at all to my Liking, and did throw herself about
and make faces. Another Alcove hung with Lamps in Festoons,
and in the Middle a Circus Theatre and a Crowd at the Door
crowding to See a Dancing Girl jump through Hoops and dance
upon Horseback. Other Alcoves with Seats for Eating and Drinking,
and they eat Ham and Chicken, and I a Plate cost me 2s. 6d.,
and the Ham mighty thin, which is Vauxhall Fashion, and they
drink Arrack, a Spirit I was curious to taste, and did and never
shall again. But what did please me was a Drink newly come in
from America, and called Sherry Cobbler, made of Sherry and
Orange and lumps of Ice, and sucked up into the Mouth with a
Straw, which to see two Gents do for the first Time did take me
mightily, and I did do likewise, mighty cool and refreshing and
did delight me much, and three Cobblers cost me 3 Shillings.
Amused to see the Gents strut about so jaunty smoking Cigars,
I think Cabbage Leaf steeped in Tobacco-Juice. They also drink
Rhubarb Wine they call Champagne cost them 10s. a bottle, and
bottled Stout, and good Lack to see the Lots of empty Bottles
on the by-Tables! An old Fellow with a Pot-Paunch that had
had too much Drink fallen asleep, a comical Sight, whilst pretty
to see the Waiters dance Attendance with the Refreshments, and
hear the hollaing and shouting, and altogether a good Deal of Fun,
but dreary; but a Family of little Boys and Girls with their fat
Father mighty merry, and clap their Hands to see the Balloon go
up in another Part of the Gardens. A grand Display of Fireworks
to conclude diverted me too, and so Home and to Bed, hoping
after my Evening's Entertainment I shall not wake with a Headache
in the Morning.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>
<a name="Illustration_A_SCIENTIFIC_INSTITUTION" id="Illustration_A_SCIENTIFIC_INSTITUTION"></a>
<a href="images/105a.png">
<img src="images/105.png" width="400" height="284" alt="A SCIENTIFIC INSTITUTION." title="" /></a>
<h2>A SCIENTIFIC INSTITUTION.
</h2></div>
<p class="right">
<span class="smcap">Friday</span> (<i>further date wanting in MS.</i>).<br />
<br />
<span class="smcap">Weekly Evening Meeting.</span><br />
</p>
<p class="chapter">This Evening to the Royal Institution, to
hear Professor <span class="smcap">Owen</span>, the Hunterian Professor to Surgeons' College,
Lecturer on Comparative Anatomy and Physiology, on the
Nature of Limbs. To the Institution early, to the Theatre, and
there got a good Place, the Theatre already filling and soon
crammed like any Playhouse where some leading Actor make his
appearance in a great Part, Gallery and all, as they say, to the Ceiling.
The Audience sitting on semi-circular Benches covered with
red Stuff, Tier above Tier, behind the select Visitors to the Front
in reserved Chairs. A mighty droll Sea of Faces, mostly wry, with
Eyes peering and squinting, many through Spectacles, though
some well-featured, one here and there a great Head, but few
handsome, Ladies excepted, a good Sprinkling of belles, and they
look mighty pretty, the rather by Comparison with their Elders,
the strong-minded Women, and the Philosophers around them,
for the greater Part to look at, as the Vulgar Phrase is, a rum Lot.
In the Centre of the reserved Seats an Arm-Chair for the Chairman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>
facing the Lecture Table, whereon Prints and Papers, a Book
and a Water-Carafe and Tumbler. Behind on a Showboard on
the Wall Diagrams and Plates of Skeletons of Extinct Animals,
Fish, and Flying Lizards, and a Dinotherium, and Mastodon, and
Mammoth, and withal a human Skull, the People contemplate,
and the Ladies and Damsels even, with Complacence, and to think
all those pretty Creatures have Skeletons in themselves! By-and-by
at eight, enter the Chairman and take the Chair, a fine fat portly
Man with a great Jole, and solemn Look, mighty noble, and
was, a Medical Student say, an awful Swell. Then in come the
Lecturer, the Professor, to great clapping of Hands, and he make
his Bow, and begin. I mighty taken with his Discourse, and to
see him point out with a long Wand he lean upon while he lecture,
the Bones and other Parts in the Diagrams of the Skeletons behind
him he Describe, and explain how this and that Bone, the
same as a human Bone, exist only in a different Form in Animals,
and strange the Pterodactyl's Wing-bone a great little Finger.
Lack to think of such Animals nothing remain but fossil Bones,
and the Animals, Geologists say, did live and die Ages before
Adam, shake some People's Faith. But Mr. <span class="smcap">Holdfast</span> think
Geology Bosh, extinct Quadrupeds Monsters destroyed in ancient
Times by the Heroes. Likewise the Fish Lizards and Pterodactyles
Dragons, <span class="smcap">St. George</span> and the Dragon all true, and <span class="smcap">St.
George</span> did verily slay a Dragon, and Accounts of real Reptiles
under the name of Dragons handed down by Tradition; their
Bones now dug up out of the Earth witness Legends true, and no
Fable, and reconcile Orthodoxy with Science. However he do not
say he believe they belch Fire and Smoke. So my Thoughts a little
wandering from Professor <span class="smcap">Owen's</span> Lecture, to listen attentively,
but the Air so foul with much Breath and burning of Gas that I at
last nearly asleep and fain to pinch myself to keep awake. Strange,
in the chief of Chemical Lecture Rooms such bad Ventilation.
But to think what a Philosopher Professor <span class="smcap">Owen</span> is and can tell
an unknown Animal whether Bird or Beast by a single Bone, and
the French may brag of Monsieur <span class="smcap">Cuvier</span>, but England have as
good Reason to be proud of Professor <span class="smcap">Owen</span>.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h3>THE CITIES SERIES</h3>
<p class="center">A brilliant series of Drawings by Eminent Artists.
<br />In Decorative Covers, 8-1/4 x 5 inches, 1/-net.
<br />With the Illustrations in Photogravure mounted on hand-made
paper. Bound in Parchment Boards, with mounted Illustrations,
2/6 net.<br></br></p>
<p class="center"><big><i>I. A LITTLE BOOK OF LONDON</i></big>
<br />Twenty-five Drawings in Photogravure by <span class="smcap">Joseph Pennell</span>.</p>
<p class="center"><big><i>II. THE GREAT NEW YORK</i></big>
<br />Twenty-four Drawings in Photogravure by <span class="smcap">Joseph Pennell</span>.</p>
<p class="center"><big><i>III. THE CITY OF THE WEST</i></big>
<br />Twenty-four Drawings in Photogravure by <span class="smcap">Jessie M. King</span>.</p>
<p class="center"><big><i>IV. THE GREY CITY OF THE NORTH</i></big>
<br />Twenty-four Drawings by <span class="smcap">Jessie M. King</span>.</p>
<p class="center"><i>Uniform Volume</i></p>
<p class="center"><big><i>MANNERS & CUSTOMS OF
YE ENGLYSHE</i></big>
<br />Forty-nine Drawings by <span class="smcap">Richard Doyle</span>, to which are added
MR. PIPS HIS DIARY, by <span class="smcap">Percival Leigh</span>.<br></br></p>
<p class="center">T. N. FOULIS</p>
<p class="center">91 GREAT RUSSELL STREET, LONDON, W.C.
& AT 15 FREDERICK STREET, EDINBURGH</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3>
<p><b>Multiple spellings not changed:</b></p>
<ul><li>"fashionable" and "fashonable"</li>
<li>both "birthday" and "birth-day"</li>
<li>both "Club-House" and "Club-house"</li>
<li>both "Exeter-Hall" and "Exeter Hall"</li>
<li>both "Pic-Nic" and "Pic-nic"</li>
<li>both "raylway" and "raylwaye"</li>
<li>different spellings of "street"</li></ul>
</div>
<pre>
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