diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 78176-0.txt | 2333 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 78176-h/78176-h.htm | 3571 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 78176-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 0 -> 566697 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 |
6 files changed, 5920 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/78176-0.txt b/78176-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3b706f6 --- /dev/null +++ b/78176-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2333 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78176 *** + + + “_Familiar in their Mouths as HOUSEHOLD WORDS._”—SHAKESPEARE. + + + + + HOUSEHOLD WORDS. + A WEEKLY JOURNAL. + + + CONDUCTED BY CHARLES DICKENS. + + + N^{o.} 11.] SATURDAY, JUNE 8, 1850. [PRICE 2_d._ + + + + + FROM THE RAVEN IN THE HAPPY FAMILY. + + +Halloa! + +You _won’t_ let me begin that Natural History of you, eh? You _will_ +always be doing something or other, to take off my attention? Now, you +have begun to argue with the Undertakers, have you? What next! + +Ugh! you are a nice set of fellows to be discussing, at this time of +day, whether you shall countenance that humbug any longer. “Performing” +funerals, indeed! I have heard of performing dogs and cats, performing +goats and monkeys, performing ponies, white-mice, and canary-birds; but, +performing drunkards at so much a day, guzzling over your dead, and +throwing half of you into debt for a twelvemonth, beats all I ever heard +of. Ha, ha! + +The other day there was a person “went and died” (as our Proprietor’s +wife says) close to our establishment. Upon my beak I thought I should +have fallen off my perch, you made me laugh so, at the funeral! + +Oh my crop and feathers, what a scene it was! _I_ never saw the Owl so +charmed. It was just the thing for him. + +First of all, two dressed-up fellows came—trying to look sober, but they +couldn’t do it—and stuck themselves outside the door. There they stood, +for hours, with a couple of crutches covered over with drapery: cutting +their jokes on the company as they went in, and breathing such strong +rum and water into our establishment over the way, that the Guinea Pig +(who has a poor little head) was drunk in ten minutes. You are so proud +of your humanity. Ha, ha! As if a pair of respectable crows wouldn’t +have done it much better? + +By-and-bye, there came a hearse and four, and then two carriages and +four; and on the tops of ’em, and on all the horses’ heads, were plumes +of feathers, hired at so much per plume; and everything, horses and all, +was covered over with black velvet, till you couldn’t see it. Because +there were not feathers enough yet, there was a fellow in the procession +carrying a board of ’em on his head, like Italian images; and there were +about five-and-twenty or thirty other fellows (all hot and red in the +face with eating and drinking) dressed up in scarves and hatbands, and +carrying—shut-up fishing-rods, I believe—who went draggling through the +mud, in a manner that I thought would be the death of me; while the +“Black Jobmaster”—that’s what he calls himself—who had let the coaches +and horses to a furnishing undertaker, who had let ’em to a haberdasher, +who had let ’em to a carpenter, who had let ’em to the parish-clerk, who +had let ’em to the sexton, who had let ’em to the plumber painter and +glazier, who had got the funeral to do, looked out of the public-house +window at the corner, with his pipe in his mouth, and said—for I heard +him—“that was the sort of turn-out to do a gen-teel party credit.” That! +As if any two-and-sixpenny masquerade, tumbled into a vat of blacking, +wouldn’t be quite as solemn, and immeasurably cheaper! + +Do you think I don’t know you? You’re mistaken if you think so. But +perhaps you do. Well! Shall I tell you what I know? Can you bear it? +Here it is then. The Black Jobmaster is right. The root of all this, is +the gen-teel party. + +You don’t mean to deny it, I hope? You don’t mean to tell me that this +nonsensical mockery isn’t owing to your gentility. Don’t I know a Raven +in a Cathedral Tower, who has often heard your service for the Dead? +Don’t I know that you almost begin it with the words, “We brought +nothing into this world, and it is certain that we can carry nothing +out”? Don’t I know that in a monstrous satire on those words, you carry +your hired velvets, and feathers, and scarves, and all the rest of it, +to the edge of the grave, and get plundered (and serve you right!) in +every article, because you WILL be gen-teel parties to the last? + +Eh? Think a little! Here’s the plumber painter and glazier come to take +the funeral order which he is going to give to the sexton, who is going +to give it to the clerk, who is going to give it to the carpenter, who +is going to give it to the haberdasher, who is going to give it to the +furnishing undertaker, who is going to divide it with the Black +Jobmaster. “Hearse and four, Sir?” says he. “No, a pair will be +sufficient.” “I beg your pardon, Sir, but when we buried Mr. Grundy at +number twenty, there was four on ’em, Sir; I think it right to mention +it.” “Well, perhaps there had better be four.” “Thank you, Sir. Two +coaches and four, Sir, shall we say?” “No. Coaches and pair.” “You’ll +excuse my mentioning it, Sir, but pairs to the coaches, and four to the +hearse, would have a singular appearance to the neighbours. When we put +four to anything, we always carry four right through.” “Well! say four!” +“Thank you, Sir. Feathers of course?” “No. No feathers. They’re absurd.” +“Very good, Sir. _No_ feathers?” “No.” “_Very_ good, Sir. We _can_ do +fours without feathers, Sir, but it’s what we never do. When we buried +Mr. Grundy, there was feathers, and—I only throw it out, Sir—Mrs. Grundy +might think it strange.” “Very well! Feathers!” “Thank you, Sir,”—and so +on. + +_Is_ it and so on, or not, through the whole black job of jobs, because +of Mrs. Grundy and the gen-teel party? + +I suppose you’ve thought about this? I suppose you’ve reflected on what +you’re doing, and what you’ve done? When you read about those poisonings +for the burial society money, you consider how it is that burial +societies ever came to be, at all? You perfectly understand—you who are +not the poor, and ought to set ’em an example—that, besides making the +whole thing costly, you’ve confused their minds about this burying, and +have taught ’em to confound expence and show, with respect and +affection. You know all you’ve got to answer for, you gen-teel parties? +I’m glad of it. + +I believe it’s only the monkeys who are servile imitators, is it? You +reflect! To be sure you do. So does Mrs. Grundy—and she casts +reflections—don’t she? + +What animals are those who scratch shallow holes in the ground in +crowded places, scarcely hide their dead in ’em, and become unnaturally +infected by their dead, and die by thousands? Vultures, I suppose. I +think you call the Vulture an obscene bird? I don’t consider him +agreeable, but I never caught him misconducting himself in that way. + +My honourable friend, the dog—I call him my honourable friend in your +Parliamentary sense, because I hate him—turns round three times before +he goes to sleep. I ask him why? He says he don’t know; but he always +does it. Do _you_ know how you ever came to have that board of feathers +carried on a fellow’s head? Come. You’re a boastful race. Show +yourselves superior to the dog, and tell me! + +Now, I don’t love many people; but I do love the undertakers. I except +them from the censure I pass upon you in general. They know you so well, +that I look upon ’em as a sort of Ravens. They are so certain of your +being gen-teel parties, that they stick at nothing. They are sure +they’ve got the upper hand of you. Our proprietor was reading the paper, +only last night, and there was an advertisement in it from a sensitive +and libelled undertaker, to wit, that the allegation “that funerals were +unnecessarily expensive, was an insult to his professional brethren.” +Ha! ha! Why he knows he has you on the hip. It’s nothing to him that +their being unnecessarily expensive is a fact within the experience of +all of you as glaring as the sun when there’s not a cloud. He is certain +that when you want a funeral “performed,” he has only to be down upon +you with Mrs. Grundy, to do what he likes with you—and then he’ll go +home, and laugh like a Hyæna. + +I declare (supposing I wasn’t detained against my will by our +proprietor) that, if I had any arms, I’d take the undertakers to ’em! +There’s another, in the same paper, who says they’re libelled, in the +accusation of having disgracefully disturbed the meeting in favour of +what you call your General Interment Bill. Our establishment was in the +Strand, that night. There was no crowd of undertakers’ men there, with +circulars in their pockets, calling on ’em to come in coloured clothes +to make an uproar; it wasn’t undertakers’ men who got in with forged +orders to yell and screech; it wasn’t undertakers’ men who made a brutal +charge at the platform, and overturned the ladies like a troop of horse. +Of course not. _I_ know all about it. + +But—and lay this well to heart, you Lords of the creation, as you call +yourselves!—it _is_ these undertakers’ men to whom, in the last trying, +bitter grief of life, you confide the loved and honoured forms of your +sisters, mothers, daughters, wives. It _is_ to these delicate gentry, +and to their solemn remarks, and decorous behaviour, that you entrust +the sacred ashes of all that has been the purest to you, and the dearest +to you, in this world. Don’t improve the breed! Don’t change the custom! +Be true to my opinion of you, and to Mrs. Grundy! + +I nail the black flag of the black Jobmaster to our cage—figuratively +speaking—and I stand up for the gen-teel parties. So (but from different +motives) does the Owl. You’ve got a chance, by means of that bill I’ve +mentioned—by the bye, I call my own a General Interment Bill, for it +buries everything it gets hold of—to alter the whole system; to avail +yourselves of the results of all improved European experience; to +separate death from life; to surround it with everything that is sacred +and solemn, and to dissever it from everything that is shocking and +sordid. You won’t read the bill? You won’t dream of helping it? You +won’t think of looking at the evidence on which it’s founded—Will you? +No. That’s right! + +Gen-teel parties, step forward, if you please, to the rescue of the +black Jobmaster! The rats are with you. I am informed that they have +unanimously passed a resolution that the closing of the London +churchyards will be an insult to their professional brethren, and will +oblige ’em “to fight for it.” The Parrots are with you. The Owl is with +you. The Raven is with you. No General Interments. Carrion for ever! + +Ha, ha! Halloa! + + + + + HOW WE WENT FISHING IN CANADA. + + +There were three of us. Our purpose was fishing, in Canadian fashion, +_under_ the ice, and our destination was the township of New Ireland, +distant about seventy miles from our starting point, Quebec, and +situated about midway between the St. Lawrence and the American line. +Our conveyance was a stout, commodious, yet light, and not inelegant +sleigh, with seats for four, and plentifully supplied with buffalo +robes, which are dressed so as to be as soft as blankets—useful in a +temperature of twenty degrees below Zero, and ornamental from their +fringes, which were garnished with various devices, all of which had +some reference to the wild denizens of the forest. Under each seat was a +box, which we stowed with a goodly supply of creature comforts and a few +books, thus prudently making provision against the contingencies of +privation and _ennui_. Our locomotive power consisted of two small but +very spirited horses, which were neatly harnessed, with a string of +merry sleigh bells dangling from the girths of each. + +In this comfortable condition we in due time arrived at “Richardson’s,” +one of the most celebrated hostelries in the seignory of St. Giles. + +Here we put up for the night, tempted to do so by the superiority of the +accommodation, especially as we had but an easy day’s journey before us +for the morrow. During the morning it was so intensely cold that our +breath formed thick crusts of ice on the shawls which we had round our +necks, whilst the bushy whiskers of our companion Perroque were pendant +with tiny icicles. As our horses warmed, almost every hair on their +backs formed the nucleus of a separate icicle, which, by-and-bye, made +them all stand erect, and caused the animals to look more like +porcupines than horses. About midday it began to moderate, and by +nightfall the temperature had risen considerably. The wind had by this +time set in, with a steady current from the east. This, with the change +of temperature, made us somewhat uneasy as to the weather; but our hopes +rose when we found that it was yet a brilliant starlight about 10 +o’clock, when we retired to rest. But even then the coming tempest was +not far off; and in about two hours afterwards the wind was howling +fearfully about the house, which it shook to its very foundations, +whilst the driving snow pattered against the windows as if clouds of +steel filings had been driven against them. I was soon soothed to sleep +by the wild lullaby of the winter night, and did not awake again until +eight in the morning, when I was called by a servant, who entered my +room with a lighted candle in her hand. I should otherwise have been in +darkness, for the snow had, over night, completely blocked up my window. +My room was on the ground-floor, and looked to the east. Against that +side of the house, the snow had been piled by the wind in an enormous +wreath, which partly encroached upon the windows of the floor above. +Blungle, my other friend, who had recently arrived from the region of +Russell Square, London, slept in a room contiguous to mine, but he +refused to get up, declaring that although it was still the middle of +the night, he was too wide awake to be humbugged. It was not until +breakfast was sent in to him, and he found by the state of his appetite +that it must have been several hours since he had supped, that he +condescended to examine his window, which discovered to him the true +state of the case. + +The wind was still high, and although the snow had ceased to fall, the +tempest abated nothing of its fury. The dry snow was driven like light +sand before the blast, until the air was thick with it. Neither man nor +beast was astir, every living thing taking shelter from the storm. +By-and-bye, the heavy pall overhead began to rend, and a few faint +gleams of sunshine would occasionally light up the wild turmoil and +confusion that raged below. About ten o’clock, the clouds were rolled +away, and the sun shone steadily out. For a full hour afterwards the +wind maintained its strength, but by noon had so far abated, that the +drift had almost ceased. + +But, by this time, the roads had become utterly impracticable. They +were, indeed, obliterated; the snow lying, in some places, lightly upon +them; and in others, forming huge swelling wreaths, either across or +along them. We were eager to go forward, but were dissuaded by our host +from attempting it, till the afternoon, when the road might be at least +practicable. On such occasions the law requires the owners of land to +“break the roads” passing through or by their respective properties; and +by two o’clock every sleigh in St. Giles’s was out for the purpose. As +soon as a track was opened, we prepared to start. The road for the first +quarter of a mile had been well sheltered; and as the evergreens were +still standing, there was but little difficulty in keeping the old +track, which afforded a firm footing for the horses. But beyond that the +evergreens had been prostrated and buried in the snow; and it was +evident that our pioneers had floundered in the midst of difficulties. +Such was presently our own fate, our horses having plunged into the soft +snow, where it was fully six feet deep, from which we had with no little +difficulty and labour to dig them out. This quenched our enthusiasm, and +we returned to the inn, where we remained for another night. + +Next morning we were enabled to proceed, though but slowly, on our way. +Leaving St. Giles’s, we entered St. Sylvestre, the last, on this road, +of the belt of French seignories lying between the St. Lawrence and the +“Townships.” It is almost exclusively inhabited by British settlers. In +the townships, Frenchmen are as rare as negroes in Siberia. The first +township we came to was that of Leeds; on entering which we found a +great change in the whole aspect of the country. From being flat and +monotonous it became suddenly varied and undulating, and appeared to +consist of a succession of rather lofty ridges, with broad belts of +fertile table land at their summit. On gaining the top of the first, we +turned to enjoy the prospect which lay behind us. It was really +magnificent. The air was so clear and crisp, that almost every object +embraced within the distant horizon had a distinct form and outline. The +level tract over which we had passed lay extended beneath our feet, +stretching for about forty miles to the St. Lawrence. In appearance it +was as variegated as a carpet,—the white patches of every shape and size +with which it was interspersed indicating the clearances amongst the +dark brown woods. The bold and precipitous banks of the St. Lawrence +could be traced for miles, whilst here and there the stream itself was +visible. The distant city, on its rocky promontory, came out in fine +relief against the sky, its tin covered spires glistening in the +sunshine like silver pinnacles. A little to the right, the outline of +the chain of hills lying behind it, although they were fully sixty miles +distant from us, was distinctly visible in the far-off heavens. + +On quitting Leeds, our way led chiefly through the woods, the clearances +being now the rare exception. + +At length we reached the district, or “township,” of New Ireland, which +having been settled by immigrants from Maine and New Hampshire, more +than forty years ago, is now reckoned one of the wealthiest and most +prosperous parts of the country. To one of its well-to-do farmers we had +introductions, and took up our quarters. His large and spacious house +was built upon a high bank, overlooking one of the smaller lakes, from +which our sport was to be derived, because it afforded one of the best +fishing grounds in the neighbourhood. Shortly after breakfast (the +buck-wheat cakes and pumpkin pie were beyond praise), we prepared for a +day’s sport. Our tackle would appear rather odd to English sportsmen: +our lines consisted of strong hempen cords, of which we provided +ourselves with about a dozen. To each were attached two very large +hooks, dressed upon thin whip-cord. We had likewise three axes, and as +many chisels of the largest size, attached to handles about six feet +long. In addition to these we had a shovel and a broad hoe. They were +all stowed into a large hand sleigh, which was dragged to the fishing +ground by a servant. + +The lake was about three miles long and half-a-mile wide. It lay in a +beautiful valley, embossed in the deep and sombre pine woods, which +covered the lower grounds. It was one of a series, some of which were +smaller and others much larger than itself. For fully five months in the +year the surface of each is frozen to the depth of several feet. We +started off to skate to the upper end, which was two-and-a-half miles +distant. My friend Blungle, not an accomplished skater, made so very +false a start, that he was speedily noticed spinning round rapidly on +the ice on a pivot, of which his heels and his head formed opposite +angles—precisely like a rotatory letter V. Perroque, our French +comforter and guide is a perfect Perrot in skates, and performed the +most graceful evolutions around our prostrate friend, in a manner that +produced a pretty and highly diverting tableau. At last, however, he +managed to “feel his feet” better, and we all soon afterwards reached +the fishing ground. + +The spot selected was close to the head of the lake, where the stream +flowing from that immediately above, fell into it. Here the fish are +generally attracted by the greater quantity of food there deposited by +the stream. In winter they have additional inducements, owing to the +greater warmth of the water from the number of springs in the +neighbourhood, and to the greater abundance of light which they enjoy +through the ice which is here comparatively thin. Indeed, over some of +the springs no ice forms during the coldest seasons. Our first care was +to make at least half-a-dozen holes in the ice. This sportsman-like +operation we commenced with our axes, making each hole about three feet +in diameter. When we got down about a foot or so the axes became useless +to us, and we had to resort to our chisels, with which we speedily +progressed; clearing the holes of the broken ice with the shovel first +and afterwards with the hoe. We were not long at work, before we found +the utility of the long handles of both hoe and chisels, the ice which +we had to perforate being fully three feet thick. There is a legend in +the neighbourhood, of an Irishman, who, having forgotten his chisel, +very wisely got into the hole which he was cutting, that he might use +his axe with better effect; he, of course, kept going down as the hole +got deeper and deeper, until, at last, he went down altogether, and, +according to the report, made food for the fish he intended to capture. + +Things being thus prepared, we baited our hooks with pieces of fat pork, +and dropped them into the water—the lines being set in each hole—the +other end of each line was attached to the middle of a stick, about six +feet in length, so placed, that it could not be dragged into the hole. +These we left lying upon the ice, some distance from the holes, so as to +give us warning of a bite, and the fish an opportunity of running a +little when hooked. The contemplative angler of the Waltonian School has +no chance here, for he would be inevitably frozen to an icicle before he +obtained so much as a bite. For amusement as well as for warmth, +therefore, we skated in the immediate vicinity of our lines, of which we +seldom lost sight. The fish, which is a species of pike, and attains a +large size, sometimes weighing upwards of thirty pounds, are soon +attracted to the spot by the columns of light descending through the +apertures in the ice. It is seldom, therefore, that the angler has to +remain long in suspense ere some token is afforded him that his labour +is not likely to be in vain. A few minutes after the casting of the +nets, I happened to approach the hole in which mine were set, and was +looking inquisitively into its leaden depths, eager, if possible, to +catch a glimpse of what was going on underneath, when suddenly the stick +to which one of the lines was attached, was dragged towards the aperture +with great velocity, and catching me by the heels, turned poor Blungle’s +laugh completely against me; for it laid me at once upon my back, with +my legs spanning the hole. I should certainly have gone with it, but +that the stick, when the fish came to the end of his run, lay firmly +across it, and kept me up. Having risen, I thought it my time, and began +to pull at the line. From the power with which I had to contend, +however, I found it necessary to have a better foundation than my skates +afforded me; so getting upon my knees, I soon brought my captive to +light, and deposited him upon the ice. He was a splendid fish, weighing +upwards of twenty pounds, and floundered prodigiously for a few minutes. +The frost, however, soon tranquilised him, and in about a +quarter-of-an-hour he was as hard and brittle as an icicle. + +We continued our sport for some time with tolerable success, having, by +three o’clock, caught eleven fish, the smallest of which weighed eight +pounds. But our pleasures were brought to an untimely period by Blungle, +whose ill luck had now passed into a proverb amongst us. Hitherto no +fish had favoured his line with so much as the passing compliment of a +nibble. He had given up the attempt, and for nearly two hours had been +amusing himself by skating up and down the lake. Practice had improved +him, and like all beginners, he was proud of his prowess, and was +particularly anxious to redeem his lost character for skating by one +extraordinary achievement. He had been warned to give what a nautical +friend of our host called a “wide berth” to the mouth of the stream +which ran into the lake. Bold in the strength of his newly acquired +skill, he neglected this advice, and about three o’clock shot rapidly +past us in the direction of the stream. In less than a minute there was +a loud agonising cry for help. + +We looked round. Every vestige of Blungle was invisible, except his +head, and that was seen just above the ice, his body being immersed in +water. He had ventured too far, and the ice had given way with him. +Mirth instantly was changed to the acutest apprehension. In that part, +the ice was so weak, that he might have broken it by pressing his arms +against it. But this he could not do; for although his toes touched +ground, he happened to be standing on the tail of a small bank, off +which the water rapidly deepened in one direction. For a moment or two +we were perplexed what to do, when it occurred to us that we might turn +the hand sleigh to account. Having tied the three chisels with their +long handles, firmly together, we tied the long pole thus furnished, to +the sleigh, and pushed it towards him; Perroque putting a large piece of +pork upon the sleigh, that he might bite at it. He hesitated for some +time to relinquish his secure foothold; but at length, seeing that it +was his only chance, and being terrified by a great fish which came up +and stared him hungrily in the face, he seized the sleigh, which we then +pulled towards us, and got safely to land. It crushed and broke the weak +ice, but rose upon that which was stronger, dragging Blungle with it. + +For some time he lay where we landed him, and would soon have been as +stiff as the fish, had we not raised him to his feet, when he +immediately started for the house. We followed him as soon as we could, +dragging our tackle, implements, and spoils along with us, and were not +long in overtaking him; for before he had got half-way down the lake, +his clothes had become quite stiff, and he looked like a man in a +cracked glass case. On reaching the house, it was with difficulty we +undressed him and put him to bed; when by dint of warmth without, and +brandy administered within, we gradually thawed him. He did not +afterwards join our fishing; but confined himself to improving his skill +in skating in the centre of the lake. + +We remained altogether four days, by which time we had caught as many +fish as we had room for in our sleigh. We then bade adieu to our kind +host and his family, and after a pleasant journey, arrived towards the +evening of the second day, at Quebec. The fish, which were still frozen +and in excellent condition, we distributed in presents to our friends. + + + + + A WISH. + + + Oh, that I were the Spirit of a Plant, + Rear’d in Imagination’s evergreen world,— + To lift my head above the meadow grass, + And strike my roots, far-spread and intervolved, + Deep as the Central Heart, wherefrom to taste + The springs of infinite being! From that source + What pregnant fermentations would arise; + What blossom, fruit, perfume, and influence; + To purify mankind’s destructive blood,— + So full of life and elevating powers— + So cloy’d and clogg’d for exercise of good. + + + + + THE BLACK DIAMONDS OF ENGLAND. + + + CHAPTER I.—THE DIAMONDS. + +The history and adventures of the ‘great diamonds’ of Eastern, Northern, +Southern, and Western potentates, have been often chronicled; their +several values have been estimated at hundreds of thousands, and at +millions; but not a syllable has ever been breathed of their utility. +The reason is tolerably obvious; these magnificent diamonds are of _no_ +practical use at all, being purely ornamental luxuries. Now, it has +occurred to us that the diamonds indigenous to England, are the converse +of these brilliant usurpers of the chief fame of the nether earth (to +say nothing of the vain-glories on the upper surface) being black, +instead of prismatic white—opaque, instead of transpicuous; and in place +of deriving a fictitious and fluctuating value from scarcity and +ornamental beauty, deriving their value from the realities of their +surpassing utility and great abundance. They certainly make no very +striking figure in the ball-room dress of prince or princess; but it is +their destiny and office to carry comfort to the poor man’s home, as +well as to the mansion of the rich; they are not to be looked upon as +treasures of beauty, they are to be shovelled out and burnt; they are +not the bright emblems of no change, and no activity, but like heralds, +sent from the depths of night, where Nature works her secret wonders, to +advance those sciences and industrial arts which are equally the +consequence and the re-acting cause of the progress of humanity. + +In the reign of King Edward the First of England, a new fuel was brought +to London, much to his subjects’ objection and the perplexity of his +majesty. Listen to the history—not of the king, but of the great event +of his time which few historians mention. + +If chemical nature beneath the earth be accounted very slow, human +nature above ground is comparatively slower,—and without the same reason +for it. The transmutations beneath the earth require centuries for their +accomplishment, and of necessity;—the proper use of new and valuable +discoveries on the surface, is a matter of human understanding and +rational will. In the former case, the thing is not perfect without its +number of centuries; in the latter, the thing has very seldom been +acknowledged without great lapse and loss of time, because mankind will +_not_ be made more comfortable and happy without a long fight against +the innovation. Wherefore coals, the most excellent material of +fuel,—for cooking, for works of industry and skill, for trades and arts, +and the cutting short of long journeys,—have only been in use during the +last three centuries. + +The first mention of coals, as a fuel, occurs in a charter of Henry the +Third, granting licenses to the burgesses of Newcastle to dig for coals; +and in 1281, this city had created, out of these diggings, a pretty good +trade. + +In the beginning of the fourteenth century, coals were first sent from +Newcastle to London, by way of a little experiment on the minds of the +blacksmiths and brewers, and a few other trades needing fuel; but for no +other purposes. So the good black smoke rose from a score or two of +favoured chimneys. + +As one man, all London instantly rose up against it, and was exceeding +wroth. Whereof, in 1316, came a petition from Parliament to the king, +praying his Majesty,—if he had any love for a fair garden, a clean face, +yea, or a clean shirt and ruff,—and if he did not wish his subjects to +be choked, or, at the very best, to be smoked into bad hams,—to forbid +all use of the new and pestilent fuel called “coals.” + +So the king, seeing the good sense and reasonableness of the request, +forthwith issued a Proclamation, commanding all use of the dangerous +nuisance of coals to cease from that day henceforth. + +But the blacksmiths and brewers took counsel together, and they were +joined by several other trades, who had found great advantage in the use +of coals; and they resolved to continue the same, as secretly as might +be—forgetting all about the smoke, or innocently trusting that it would +not again betray them. + +No sooner, however, did the black smoke begin to rise and curl above the +chimneys, than it was actually seen by many eyes!—and away ran the +people bawling to Parliament; and more petitions were sent; and his +Majesty, being now very angry, ordered all these refractory coal-burning +smiths, brewers, and other injurious rogues to be heavily fined, and +their fire-places and furnaces cast down and utterly demolished. + +All this was accordingly done. Still, it was done to no purpose; for so +very excellent was the result to the different trades of those who had +smuggled and used the prohibited fuel, that use it by some means they +would, let happen what might. More chimneys than ever now sent up black +curling clouds, and more fire-places and furnaces were destroyed; and so +they went on. + +At length it was wisely discovered that nobody had been choked, +poisoned, “cured” into a bad ham, or otherwise injured and transformed. +Now, then, of course, it was reasonable to expect, as the advantages +were proved to be so great and numerous, the injuries trivial, and the +dangers nothing, the use of coal would become pretty general, without +more prohibition, contest, or question. + +No, indeed; this is not the way the world goes on. Social benefits are +not to be forced upon worthy people at this rate. Centuries must +elapse—even as we find with the growth of metals and minerals beneath +the earth. In the latter case, it is a necessary condition; in the +former, it is made one. + +The many good services and value of coals being now ascertained, as well +as their harmlessness (except that they certainly did give a bad colour +to all the public edifices and great houses), and the progressive +increase of many luxuries of life, together with their advantages to +numerous trades besides those of the wisely-valiant and not-to-be-denied +blacksmiths and brewers who first adopted and persisted in using them, +every facility for their importation into London was naturally expected +by the citizens of that highly-favoured place. Innocent human nature! +vain hopes of children, who always expect reason from those who preach +it! For now, various lets and hindrances were cunningly devised, in the +shape of taxes and duties, so as to check the facilities of interchange +between London and Newcastle. So, the new fuel—the product of the mine +destined one day to become the Black Diamonds of England—had to struggle +for its freedom through a succession of “wise and happy reigns.” + + + CHAPTER II. + THE EMANCIPATION OF THE DIAMOND. + +Before a cargo of coals could be discharged from a collier, it was +necessary to get the permission of the Lord Mayor to land them. And how +was this to be obtained? By what sort of dulcet persuasion, we are left +in no difficulty to conjecture; but as to the amount of the sum, a +modest official veil of darkness enshrouds the record. The perquisites, +however, granted to the aldermen, are fortunately within reach of +knowledge; and accordingly we find it set down that the corporation were +empowered to measure and weigh coals, either in person, and in their +gowns, or by proxy, if they preferred that course, and to charge the sum +of 8_d._ per ton for their labour. This was confirmed by a charter in +1613. By this tax the City made some 50,000_l._ a year, and rejoiced +exceedingly. + +This system of protection, under several forms and pleasant variations, +long continued, and was extended all over England, the pressure falling +most unequally, to the injury of the least wealthy and the poor, +according to the immemorial custom of Governments. Some of the people of +London were audacious enough to complain that they did not need to be +protected from the Newcastle coals, but all on the contrary, would give +any fair sum to obtain them; and that, indeed, what they really needed +was to be protected from the Lord Mayor and Corporation, and other taxes +and duties. But these people were reproved as ignorant and froward, and +told that they understood nothing at all:—what they had to do, was +simply—to pay, first for the protection, and then for the coals. So they +paid. But the importance of the article being found to exceed even the +greediness of the impost, the use of coals became general during the +reign of Charles the First; the same, with other taxes, being demanded, +from the reign of William the Third downwards. + +In 1830, and not before, the heaviest of the above duties were +abolished; those, however, which were collected from the Londoners being +excepted—for their old impertinence—together with two or three +sea-ports, who had also spoken. + +Who shall repress a truth? Coals were excellent good things—there was no +reason in denying it. But any foolish people, and there will always be +more than enough found to do it, _can_ repress a truth for an abominably +long period, denying it without reason, yet very effectually. Or, when +they admit it, then comes the tax and penalty to be paid for the fact. +Thus was the free introduction and use of coals repressed throughout +England until 1830; from which date, its grand rise from the bowels of +the earth into a new and most extensive importance may be dated. + +Yet, as extremes meet, and as human nature delights in opposites, if +only by way of reaction or relaxation, so the long-continued obstinate +slowness of past ages bids fair, in our own day, to enter upon an +extreme change to flighty prematurities, and the over-leaping of all +intermediate and necessary knowledge. But the reign of the fast-ones is +now approaching its height; which having once reached, it will then have +a rapid decline into contempt, and so give place to regular and steady +advances upon solid ground. + +Still, we are not to infer from the present flourishing state of things, +that the great black-diamond millionaires are very numerous, or that +fortunes are readily accumulated in the trade. Coal mines are hazardous +speculations: costly is the sinking of shafts—precarious the lives of +men and property from constant dangers of explosion or inundation; +whereof it comes that no Insurance Office will guarantee such property +against these or any other accidents. True may it be that the large coal +owners on the Tyne and the Wear rejoice in a sort of monopoly; as do +other owners; but herein shall we not find the cause of coals being sold +in London at nearly three times the price they cost at the pit’s mouth. +The cause is to be sought in the expenses of transit (which, alone, are +often equal to, and not unfrequently exceed, the cost price); in the +loss of screening; the expenses of lighters and lightermen wharfs, +officers, and wharfingers, coal-heavers, carmen, horses, waggons, +sacks—to say nothing of long credit, or bad debts;—and the profits of +the various middle-men, among the most numerous of whom are the +brass-plate coal merchants (whose establishments simply consist of an +order-book, wherein it appeareth that they get a little more than they +give); and the retailers of various gradations. + +All these difficulties, and all these reductions and dues, +notwithstanding, and in spite of,—the coal trade has risen during the +last twenty years to a magnitude in quantity and influence which may be +regarded as one of the greatest commercial triumphs of this our England. + +The coal-fields of the United States of America are upwards of fourteen +times larger extent than ours; yet, in 1845, while the American coal +mines produced 4,400,000 of tons, the coal mines of England produced +upwards of 32,000,000 of tons. In the same year, our production of iron +was more than four times the American amount. Moreover,—and here may the +gravest historian exalt his pen, and yet be accounted no flourisher,—we +have for some years past been able to supply coals to all the great +powers of the globe. In 1842, England exported 60,000 tons of coals to +the United States of America; 88,000 tons to Russia; 111,000 tons to +Prussia; 515,900 tons to France;—not to speak of the hundreds of +thousands of tons exported in the same year to Germany collectively, to +Holland, to Denmark, Sweden, the East Indies and China, &c., &c. + +The use of coals has now extended, not only over the civilised world, +but in its potent form of steam has reached most of the remoter regions. +From Suez to Singapore are steam vessels already in course of passage, +and the line will soon be carried to Australia. When the American +locomotives have made their way to the shores of the Pacific, their +vessels will be ready to carry onward the traffic to China and the +Indian Islands from the east; “and thus,” as writes a learned critic, +discoursing of the virtues of steam-coal, “complete the circuit of the +globe.” Whereby, “a steam voyage round the world will in a few years, be +so practicable, that the merchant and tourist may make the circuit +within a year, and yet have time enough to see and learn much at many of +the principal ‘stations’ on his way.” + +All rightful honour, then, to these priceless Diamonds—whether they be +black spirits or furnace-white, flame-red spirits, or ashy-grey—whether +cannel coal and caking coal—cherry coal and stone coal—whether any of +the forty kinds of Newcastle coal, or any of the seventy species of the +great family, from the highest class of the bituminous, down to the one +degree above old coke. + + + CHAPTER III.—THE COAL EXCHANGE. + +Near to the Custom House rises one of the most ornate edifices in the +metropolis,—the Coal Exchange of London,—in which is carried on one of +our most stupendous trades. + +It is Wednesday—a market day—we ascend the steps of a beautiful sort of +round tower, and pass through the folding swing-doors of the principal +entrance. The space here, or little vestibule, forms the base of the +centre of a well-staircase of iron. You look up, through the coiling +balustrades as they climb up to the top, and at the very top you see a +painting in the Rubens style of colouring, (though a long way _after_ +Rubens in other respects,) of the figure of a prodigal lady, who is +upsetting a cornucopia, full—_not_ of coals—but of all the most richly +coloured fruits of Italy and the East, which seem about to descend +straight through the centre of the well-staircase, and shower down upon +your wondering and expectant head. Cupids—or, at least, little chubby +boys, tumbling in the air—are also in attendance on this theatrical +Goddess of Abundance. + +Passing from this entrance into the grand central market, you find +yourself in a circular area boarded with oak planks of a light and dark +hue, arranged in a kind of mosaic of long angles, which converge to a +centre piece, wherein a great anchor is inlaid. Beside this, there is a +wooden dagger, to the blade of which a legend of no interest is +attached. Three ranges of cast-iron galleries rise all round, +terminating above in a large glass dome, with an orange-coloured centre +of stained glass. Around the floor of the area, at due intervals, long +desks of new polished oak, with inkstands let into the wood, stand +invitingly ready for the transaction of business. The City Arms, on a +series of small shields, is the simple adornment of the outer +balustrade-work of the three galleries,—except, also, that these +galleries often have many lady-visitors who lean over and contemplate +the ‘dark doings’ of the busy black-diamond merchants who congregate +below. + +But let it not be supposed that the ornaments of the Coal Exchange of +London are confined to the City Arms, or even the beauty of the +lady-visitors. Private offices, and recesses for business, having the +most neat, orderly appearance, even to a primness and propriety worthy +of the Society of Friends, are observable round the area, beneath the +galleries; but the panels of the woodwork that separate these offices, +rejoice in the most lively adornments, _à la Jullien_. They are covered +with emblematic, fanciful, and not very characteristic pictures and +designs, all in the brightest hues; and, being painted on a light +ground, they have a look of gaiety and airiness quite of a continental +character. The weight and gravity of the City has, for once—and by way +of smiling antagonism to what every one would expect of a +coal-market—determined to emulate the gayest places of public amusement +in France or Germany. Restaurants, cafés, dancing-rooms—and oh!—shall we +say it—a touch of Cremorne! In one panel you see a figure of +_Watchfulness_, typified by a robed lady, with a wise-faced owl at her +side. The river Severn is typified by Naïads and a dolphin—by a little +poetic licence. In another panel we have _Charity_, bearing a couple of +children, with a figure of old Father Thames sitting among rushes below. +Then, we have _Perseverance_ for the Avon, emblemed by a snail at the +foot of a brunette lady with black eyes,—the favourite style of beauty +of the artist, Mr. Sang. The Trent and the Tyne are similarly +illustrated, and all in the brightest colours, on a light ground. + +Let us now return to the principal entrance, and ascend to the first +gallery. The panels all round, are painted as below. The chief subject +of most of them appears to be a colliery—that is, the works above +ground, such as the little black house of the steam-engine, with its +long chain passing over the drum, and then over a wheel above the pit’s +mouth. The first we come to is the celebrated Wallsend colliery. Each +has fanciful designs above and beneath, as if to atone for the dark +reality of the centre piece, picturesque as this is always made. Over +some of these we find heraldic monsters of the right frightful Order of +the Griffin, prancing above greyhounds who crouch on each side of a +large ornamental cup, not unlike a head-dress of the ancient South +American Indians, which however is supported by a lady in the bright +costume of a Mexican peasant, wearing wings. Beneath there lies a rich +grouping of grapes, arborescent ferns, with vulture-headed griffins, and +flowers of the cactus. The collieries are occasionally varied with a +sea-piece, in which, of course, a black collier-vessel is sailing from +the North. Sometimes the scene is a shore-piece with a collier boat; but +presided over by the usual sort of nut-brown mining beauty with Italian +eyes, and hair in no particular order, bearing a fruit-basket on her +head, piled up with all sorts of ripe fruit of the most tempting size +and colour. Beneath her, we again find the griffin vultures holding +watch over some logs of antediluvian trees. + +Wandering onwards in this way, we observed, a little in advance of us, a +seafaring man, in a rough blue pilot coat, with a face so weather-beaten +that it looked as hard as a ship’s figure-head, and a pair of great +dangling hands that seemed hewn out of solid oak. He was very busy in +front of one of the panels, admiring a lady with very good-humoured +black eyes, and cheeks as red as ripe tomatos, carrying on her head a +basket of Orlean plums and alligator pears, richly grouped with a +profusion of grapes, and crimson flowers of the cactus. Her face was +turned smilingly upwards at a collier brig in full sail. + +We congratulated him on his ‘choice,’ and the suggestion appearing to +please his fancy, a little colloquy ensued, from which it turned out +that he was Thomas Oldcastle, of Durham, captain of the collier brig +‘Shiner,’ of South Shields, and having just discharged his cargo at +Rotherhithe, had come to London to amuse himself for a few hours. +Arriving at the entrance in the course of our talk, we ascended the +stairs together, and soon reached the second gallery. + +The flooring of this gallery—in fact the whole of it, like the previous +one, was of cast iron. In the semicircle of the entrance was a picture +of Newcastle, on one side, with its iron bridge and railway combined, +and its old stone bridge below. It was very well and characteristically +painted, and of a sombre and rather smoky colour, which Captain +Oldcastle said was too like to be very pleasing. His thoughts were +evidently reverting to the very highly coloured operatic ladies below. +On the other side of this entrance was a picture of Durham, with the +cathedral among the trees—also a very good and truthful picture. Captain +Oldcastle, after great deliberation, and the slow pocketing of both +hands, was obliged to confess that it was something like the old place. +But this wall was not right—any how—and that spire did not look so—when +last he saw it—in short, it was clear he wanted reality, could not make +out perspective differences, and preferred the handsome looks of the +brunette fruit-bearer in the lower gallery. + +But though our honest friend had no good taste in pictures, there was a +great mass of good solid practical knowledge in the hard-outlined head +of this rough captain of the North Sea. It turned out that he was an old +friend of Mr. Buddle, the coal engineer of Wallsend, and often quoted +him as authority. Chancing to ask him some question about the number of +people employed in the coal trade on the Tyne and the Wear, he said that +he had heard Buddle say (twenty years ago) there were nearly 5,000 boys, +and quite 3,500 men _underground_ in the works near the Tyne: and nearly +3,000 men, and 700 boys above ground. On the Wear, he said there were +9,000. All of these were employed in the mines, and taking the coal to +the ships on the two rivers. Captain Oldcastle estimated the vessels +employed at about 1,400, which would require 15,000 sailors and boys to +work them “as all ought to be.” Besides these, there were lots more +hands in other parts of the great coal trade of the north. + +But as this estimate of his friend Buddle, we remarked, had been made +twenty years ago, was it not pretty certain that the numbers had +immensely increased by this time? To this the Captain replied that it +was so, no doubt; and supposing that every other district, besides the +North, of the entire coal trade of England, had increased in the same +proportion, and if you added to this all the agents, factors, clerks, +subordinates, whippers, lightermen, wharfingers, &c., there would be +found upwards of 200,000 men engaged in the Coal trade of +England,—enough, he added with a grimly comical look, if a war broke +out, to furnish the army and navy with 20,000 men each, at a week’s +notice. + +“If they liked the work,” we added; but the Captain had walked on, +attracted by a picture in one of the panels. It was a portrait of a +miner in his underground dress—when he wears any—the darkness of his +figure and position in the mine being pleasantly and appropriately +relieved by an immense quantity of highly coloured _tropical_ fruits, +flowers, griffin vultures, long and sleek-necked cranes, arborescent +ferns, various logs of wood known in fossil botany, with here and there +a string of choice jewels,—rubies, emeralds, and carbuncles of +prodigious size, such as one has seen in “Blue Beard” and “Pizarro.” The +next figure was a miner with a Davy-lamp, whom Captain Oldcastle +shrewdly conjectured to be looking out for some of those jewels so +profusely accorded to the fortunate miner in the previous picture. + +In walking round these galleries, amidst so many adornments attracting +the attention, a visitor might be excused for not too hastily turning +his thoughts to utility. But this thought, in these too practical days, +will obtrude itself. The number of the private rooms for offices, on +each gallery, is considerable; their accommodations, all that could be +desired; their appearance most neat, quiet, and unexceptionable; but by +far the greater part are _empty_. Nobody will take them. Many of those +on the ground-floor, or area of the market—obviously the best place by +far—are unlet. These are of the high-priced, of course; still, as the +price decreases with the ascent, why are not more of the upper offices +taken? Here—in the very centre of all the great Coal trade of +England!—and not one-third, not one-fourth, we think, of the offices +let? We expressed our astonishment to the Captain. + +“Oh!” said he, “the City is a queer place, and the City authorities are +a rum sort of reasoners. They asked too much rent for these berths at +first; and though but a few factors and merchants can afford to give it, +the City still persists. And so they are obliged to go to the expence of +fires in all the empty offices to keep them aired three-quarters of the +year round, rather than see the place full at a moderate rent. That’s +how I read their log.” + +We now ascended to the third gallery. Here, the cold, though not the +“beggarly array of empty boxes,” was most expressive of the +mismanagement, _somehow_ and _somewhere_ of this well-placed, and most +commodious building, on which so much money has been expended. + +The paintings in the entrance of this uppermost gallery were of +‘Shields’ on one side, and ‘Sunderland’ on the other. That of Shields +was a view of colliers in the river by moonlight, with a dull sky of +indigo blue, and smoky clouds—very well done, and truthful, having a +sufficient mixture of reality for the nature of the subject, and of +fancy for the picturesque. The picture of Sunderland, with its +one-arched iron bridge, which is so high above the water, that a collier +can pass underneath without striking her topmasts, is also a night +scene; but by torch-light; the red flashes of which fall upon a train of +little upright waggons full of coals, coming from the pit to be shipped. + +The panels round this gallery are adorned with paintings of gigantic +ferns, fragments of the trunks of the lepidodendron, and the sigillaria, +and other stems and foliage of those antediluvian plants and trees which +subsequently contributed most largely to the coal formations. These +paintings are interspersed with various miners’ tools, above which rises +the glass dome of the building. + +Descending the well-staircase, we asked Captain Oldcastle what capital +he thought was employed by the great coal owners on the Tyne and Wear. +He said—quoting his friend Buddle again, as authority—that they could +not have embarked less than a million and a half of money, without +reckoning any of the vessels on the river; but taking these into the +account, the capital employed would not amount to less than between +eight and ten millions. And this estimate was made by Buddle twenty +years ago! + + + + + THE GREAT PENAL EXPERIMENTS. + + +Prison Life, like life in all other circumstances, has its extremes; and +these have been pushed to the farthest verge of contrast by the ‘great +experiments’ that have lately been essayed. There is an aristocracy of +prisoners, and a commonality of prisoners; there are palace prisons, and +kennel prisons in which it would be cruelty to confine refractory dogs. +We have hardened criminals put into training in Model Prisons for +pattern penitence, and novices in crime thrust into dens with the most +depraved felons; so as to bring them down in morals to the lowest +practicable level. The study of some of these extremes is instructive. +It shows what results have been produced by the ‘great experiments’ +which have been tried; either how much reform they have effected; or how +many misdemeanants they are likely to add to the already over-populated +dangerous class. For the sake of impartiality we shall in each instance +offer no description of our own; but we intend to cite what has already +been in print. + +A graphic but eccentric pen has supplied a vivid description of the +palace order of gaols. “Some months ago,” says Mr. Carlyle, in a recent +pamphlet, “some friends took me with them to see one of the London +Prisons; a Prison of the exemplary or model kind. An immense circuit of +buildings; cut out, girt with a high ring wall, from the lanes and +streets of the quarter, which is a dim and crowded one. Gateway as to a +fortified place; then a spacious court, like the square of a city; broad +staircases, passages to interior courts; fronts of stately architecture +all round. It lodges some Thousand or Twelve-hundred prisoners, besides +the officers of the establishment. Surely one of the most perfect +buildings, within the compass of London. We looked at the apartments, +sleeping-cells, dining-rooms, working-rooms, general courts or special +and private; excellent all, the ne-plus-ultra of human care and +ingenuity; in my life I never saw so clean a building; probably no Duke +in England lives in a mansion of such perfect and thorough cleanness. +The bread, the cocoa, soup, meat, all the various sorts of food, in +their respective cooking-places, we tasted; found them of excellence +superlative. The prisoners sat at work, light work, picking oakum and +the like, in airy apartments with glass roofs, of agreeable temperature +and perfect ventilation; silent, or at least conversing only by secret +signs; others were out, taking their hour of promenade in clean flagged +courts; methodic composure, cleanliness, peace, substantial wholesome +comfort, reigned everywhere supreme.” + +This is the great model experiment. We can easily reverse the picture. +It is but a short walk from Pentonville to Smithfield—scarcely two +miles—yet, in the prison world, the two places are antipodes. Here, +within the hallowed precincts of the City, stands Giltspur Street +Compter, upon the state of which we produce another witness. Mr. Dixon, +in his work on London Prisons, testifies that in this jail the prisoners +“sleep in small cells, little more than half the size of the model cell +at Pentonville, which is calculated (on the supposition that the cell is +to be ventilated on the best plan which science can suggest, regardless +of cost) to be just large enough for _one_ inmate. The cell in Giltspur +Street Compter is little more than half the size, and is either not +ventilated at all, or is ventilated very imperfectly. I have measured +it, and know exactly the quantity of air which it will hold, and have no +doubt but that it contains less than any human being ought to breathe +in, in the course of a night. Well, in this cell, in which there is +hardly room for them to lie down, I have seen _five_ persons locked up, +at four o’clock in the day, to be there confined, in darkness, in +idleness, to pass all those hours, to do all the offices of nature, not +merely in each other’s presence, but crushed by the narrowness of their +den into a state of filthy contact which brute beasts would have +resisted to the last gasp of life! Think of these five wretched +beings—men with souls, and gifted with human reason—condemned, day by +day, to pass in this unutterably loathsome manner two-thirds of their +time! Can we wonder if these men come out of prison, after three or four +months of such treatment, prepared to commit the most revolting crimes? +Could five of the purest men in the world live together in such a manner +without losing every attribute of good which had once belonged to them? +He would be a rash man who would dare to answer—‘Yes.’ Take another fact +from Newgate. In any of the female wards may be seen, a week before the +Sessions, a collection of persons of every shade of guilt, and some who +are innocent. I remember one case particularly. A servant girl, of about +sixteen, a fresh-looking healthy creature, recently up from the country, +was charged by her mistress for stealing a brooch. She was in the same +room—lived all day, slept all night—with the most abandoned of her sex. +They were left alone; they had no work to do; no books—except a few +tracts for which they had no taste—to read. The whole day was spent, as +is usual in such prisons, in telling stories—the gross and guilty +stories of their own lives. There is no form of wickedness, no aspect of +vice, with which the poor creature’s mind would not be compelled to grow +familiar in the few weeks she passed in Newgate awaiting trial. When the +day came, the evidence against her was found to be the lamest in the +world, and she was at once acquitted. That she entered Newgate innocent +I have no doubt; but who shall answer for the state in which she left +it?” + +Let us not wrong the City in supposing it singular in promoting these +loathsome prison scenes. A hundred passages, in nearly as many blue +books, are ready for quotation, to show how some of the ‘great +experiments’ in not a few of the National prisons have turned out. One, +however, will do. Here is a sentence or two from the Government’s own +report of the state of one of its own hulks at Woolwich—the same +Government which has been so good as to dispense upwards of 90,000_l._ +of the public money in building the Pentonville Model. We cannot quote +it entire, by reason of some of the passages being too revolting for +reproduction in these pages:— + +“In the hospital ship, the “Unité,” the great majority of the patients +were infested with vermin, and their persons in many instances, +particularly their feet, begrimed with dirt. No regular supply of body +linen had been issued; so much so, that many men had been five weeks +without a change; and all record had been lost of the time when the +blankets had been washed; and the number of sheets was so insufficient, +that the expedient had to be resorted to of only a single sheet at a +time to save appearances. Neither towels nor combs were provided for the +prisoners’ use. * * * On the admission of new cases into the hospital, +patients were directed to leave their beds and go into hammocks, and the +new cases were turned into the vacated beds, without changing the +sheets.” + +Is anything more shocking than the Compter, Newgate, and the Unité to be +conceived? Do travellers tell us of anything worse in Russia, or China, +or Old Tartary? “O! yes; there is Austria and its life-punishments in +Spielberg,” some one may suggest, “surely there is no London parallel +for that.” But Mr. Dixon answers there is:—in the Millbank Penitentiary. +‘The dark cells,’ he says, ‘are fearful places, and sometimes melancholy +mistakes are made in committing persons to them. You descend about +twenty steps from the ground-floor into a very dark passage leading into +a corridor, on one side of which the cells—small, dark, ill-ventilated, +and doubly barred—are ranged. No glimpse of day ever comes into this +fearful place. The offender is locked up for three days, and fed on +bread and water only. There is only a board to sleep on; and the only +furniture of the cell is a water-closet. On a former visit to Millbank, +some months ago, I was told there was a person in one of these cells. +“He is touched, poor fellow!” said the warden, “in his intellects.” But +his madness was very mild. He wished to fraternise with the other +prisoners; declared that all mankind are brethren; sang hymns when told +to be silent; and when reprimanded for taking these unwarranted +liberties, declared that he was the “governor.” They said he _pretended_ +to be mad; which, seeing that his vagaries subjected him to continual +punishments, and procured him no advantages, was very likely! They put +him into darkness to enlighten his understanding; and alone, to teach +him how unbrotherly men are. Poor wretch! He was frightened with his +solitude, and howled fearfully. I shall never forget his wail as we +passed the door of his horrid dungeon. The tones were quite unearthly, +and caused an involuntary shudder. On hearing footsteps, he evidently +thought they were coming to release him. While we remained in the +corridor, he did not cease to shout and implore most lamentably for +freedom: when he heard us retreating, his voice rose into a yell; and +when the fall of the heavy bolts told him that we were gone, he gave a +shriek of horror, agony, and despair, which ran through the pentagon, +and can never be forgotten. God grant that I may never hear such sounds +again! On coming again, after three or four months’ absence, to this +part of the prison, the inquiry naturally arose, “What has become of the +man who _pretended_ to be mad?” The answer was, “Oh, he went mad, and +was sent to Bedlam!”’ + +What happens at Pentonville, and what takes place at Millbank, is done +under the same eye, under the same legislative supervision. The two +“great experiments” of iron and feather-bed prison reform are worked out +by the same power. The despots of Russia, Austria, and China, are at +least consistent. They have not carried on opposite systems—one of +extreme severity, and another of superlative ‘coddling.’ In no other +country but this does Justice—blind as she is—administer cocoa and +condign misery to the same degree of crime with the same hand. + +We have thrown these facts together, merely to awaken attention to them. +We purposely abstain from suggestive comment. We know that the subject +of reformatory punishment is fraught with difficulties, to conquer which +all the “great experiments” have been tried. But they have only been +“great” because of their great expense and their great failure; and when +the failure is incontestable—proved beyond doubt by the direst +results,—should they not be abandoned, and something else tried, instead +of being made an absolute matter of faith, and a test to which certain +county magistrates, whom we could name, bring every man who is unhappy +enough to be within their power? The cause of it is plainly and +constantly presented at the bar of every Police Court and in the dock of +every Sessions House. It has resulted from an utter misapprehension of +means to end, and a lofty disregard of the good old adage, “prevention +is better than cure.” Although it has been daily observed that +ignorance—moral more than intellectual—ignorance has been the forerunner +of all juvenile crime, we have never tried any very great experiment +upon _that_. On the contrary, we spend hundreds of thousands every year +to effect the manifest impossibility of re-forming what has never been +formed. We have tried every shade of system but the right. Ingenuity has +been on the rack to invent every sort of reformatory, from the iron rule +of Millbank, to the affectionate fattening at Pentonville—except one, +and that happens to be the right one. Punishment has occupied all our +thoughts,—training, none. We condemn young criminals for not knowing +certain moralities which we have not taught them, and—by herding them +with accomplished professors of dishonesty in transit jails—punish them +for immoralities which have been there taught them. Instances of this +can be adduced in so large a proportion as to amount to a rule; to which +the appearance of instructed juvenile criminals at the tribunals is the +exception. Two or three glaring cases occurred only the past month. We +select one as reported in the “Globe” newspaper of Tuesday, May 7:— + + ‘BOW-STREET POLICE-COURT.—This day, two little children, whose heads + hardly reached the top of the dock, were placed at the bar before Mr. + Jardine, charged with stealing a loaf. Their very appearance told the + want they were in. The housekeeper to Mr. Mims, baker, Drury Lane, + deposed, that they, about eight o’clock last evening, went into the + shop and asked for a quartern loaf, and while her back was turned to + get it for them, they stole a half quartern loaf, value 2½_d._, which + was lying on the counter, and made off with it. Police constable, F + 14, deposed, that he was on duty in Drury Lane, and seeing them + quarrelling over the loaf, he asked them where they had got it. One of + them answered, they had stolen it. After ascertaining how they came by + it, he took them into custody. In defence, the prisoners said they + were starving. Mr. Jardine sentenced them both to be once whipped in + the House of Correction.’ + +These children were without means, friends, or any sort of instruction. +They were whipped then for their ignorance and want, for both which they +are not responsible. After whipping and a few imprisonments they will +doubtless be boarded and instructed by fellow prisoners into finished +thieves. The authorities tell us, that five-eighths of the juvenile +criminals—and a few become professional after the age of twenty—who are +received into jails, have not received one spark of moral or +intellectual training! + +These, and a thousand other facts too obvious for the common sense of +our readers to be troubled with, induce us to recommend one other ‘great +experiment’ which has never yet been tried. It has the advantage of +being a preventive as well as a cure—it is—compared with all the penal +systems now in practice—immeasurably safer, more humane, and +incalculably cheaper. The ‘great experiment’ we propose, is NATIONAL +EDUCATION. + + + + + THE ORPHAN’S VOYAGE HOME. + + + The men could hardly keep the deck, + So bitter was the night; + Keen north-east winds sang thro’ the shrouds, + The deck was frosty white; + While overhead the glistening stars + Put forth their points of light. + + On deck, behind a bale of goods, + Two orphans crouch’d, to sleep; + But ’twas so cold, the youngest boy + In vain tried not to weep: + They were so poor, they had no right + Near cabin doors to creep. + + The elder round the younger wrapt + His little ragged cloak, + To shield him from the freezing sleet, + And surf that o’er them broke; + Then drew him closer to his side, + And softly to him spoke:— + + “The night will not be long”—he said, + “And if the cold winds blow, + We shall the sooner reach our home, + And see the peat-fire glow; + But now the stars are beautiful— + Oh, do not tremble so! + + “Come closer!—sleep—forget the frost— + Think of the morning red— + Our father and our mother soon + Will take us to their bed; + And in their warm arms we shall sleep.” + He knew not they were dead. + + For them no father to the ship + Shall with the morning come; + For them no mother’s loving arms + Are spread to take them home: + Meanwhile the cabin passengers + In dreams of pleasure roam. + + At length the orphans sank to sleep + All on the freezing deck; + Close huddled side to side—each arm + Clasp’d round the other’s neck. + With heads bent down, they dream’d the earth + Was fading to a speck. + + The steerage passengers have all + Been taken down below, + And round the stove they warm their limbs + Into a drowsy glow; + And soon within their berths forget + The icy wind and snow. + + Now morning dawns: the land in sight, + Smiles beam on every face! + The pale and qualmy passengers + Begin the deck to pace, + Seeking along the sun-lit cliffs + Some well-known spot to trace. + + Only the orphans do not stir, + Of all this bustling train: + They reach’d their _home_ this starry night! + They will not stir again! + The winter’s breath proved kind to them, + And ended all their pain. + + But in their deep and freezing sleep + Clasp’d rigid to each other, + In dreams they cried, “The bright morn breaks, + Home! home! is here, my brother! + The Angel Death has been our friend— + We come! dear Father! Mother!” + + + + + ILLUSTRATIONS OF CHEAPNESS. + + + TEA. + +The history of tea, from its first introduction to England, may be read +in the history of taxation. It appears to have escaped the notice of +nearly all writers on tea, that the first tax is a curious illustration +of the original mode of its sale. By the act of the 22d and 23d Charles +II., 1670–1, a duty of eighteenpence was imposed upon ‘every _gallon_ of +chocolate, sherbet, and tea, made and sold, to be paid by the makers +thereof.’ It is manifest that such a tax was impossible to be collected +without constant evasion; and so, after having remained on the Statute +Book for seventeen years, it was discovered, in 1688, that ‘the +collecting of the duty by way of Excise upon the liquors of coffee, +chocolate, and tea, is not only very troublesome and unequal upon the +retailers of these liquors, but requireth such attendance of officers as +makes the neat receipt very inconsiderable.’ The excise upon the liquor +was therefore repealed, and heavy Customs’ duties imposed on the +imported tea. + +The annals of tea may be divided into epochs. The first is that in which +the liquid only was taxed, which tax commenced about ten years after we +have any distinct record of the public or private use of tea. In 1660, +dear old Pepys writes, ‘I did send for a cup of tea (a China drink) of +which I never had drank before.’ In 1667, the herb had found its way +into his own house: ‘Home, and there find my wife making of tea; a drink +which Mr. Pelling, the Potticary, tells her is good for her cold and +defluxions.’ + +Mrs. Pepys making her first cup of tea is a subject to be painted. How +carefully she metes out the grains of the precious drug, which Mr. +Pelling, the Potticary, has sold her at a most enormous price—a crown an +ounce at the very least. She has tasted the liquor once before: but then +there was sugar in the infusion—a beverage only for the highest. If tea +should become fashionable, it will cost in housekeeping as much as their +claret. However, Pepys says, the price is coming down; and he produces +the handbill of Thomas Garway, in Exchange Alley, which the lady peruses +with great satisfaction; for the worthy merchant says, that although +‘tea in England hath been sold in the leaf for six pounds, and sometimes +for ten pounds the pound weight,’ he ‘by continued care and industry in +obtaining the best tea,’ now ‘sells tea for 16_s._ to 50_s._ a pound.’ +Garway not only sells tea in the leaf, but ‘many noblemen, physicians, +merchants, &c., daily resort to his house to drink the drink thereof.’ +The coffee-houses soon ran away with the tea-merchant’s liquid +customers. They sprang up all over London; they became a fashion at the +Universities. Coffee and tea came into England as twin-brothers. Like +many other foreigners, they received a full share of abuse and +persecution from the people and the state. Coffee was denounced as ‘hell +broth,’ and tea as ‘poison.’ But the coffee-houses became fashionable at +once; and for a century were the exclusive resorts of wits and +politicians. ‘Here,’ says a pamphleteer of 1673, ‘haberdashers of +political small wares meet, and mutually abuse each other and the +public, with bottomless stories and headless notions.’ Clarendon, in +1666, proposed, either to suppress them, or to employ spies to note down +the conversation. In 1670 the liquids sold at the coffee-houses were to +be taxed. We can scarcely imagine a state of society in which the excise +officer was superintending the preparation of a gallon of tea, and +charging his eightpence. The exciseman and the spy were probably united +in the same person. During this period we may be quite certain that tea +was unknown, as a general article of diet, in the private houses even of +the wealthiest. But it was not taxation which then kept it out of use. +The drinkers of tea were ridiculed by the wits, and frightened by the +physicians. More than all, a new habit had to be acquired. The praise of +Boyle was nothing against the ancient influences of ale and claret. It +was then a help to excess instead of a preventive. A writer in 1682 +says,—‘I know some that celebrate good Thee for preventing drunkenness, +taking it before they go to the tavern, and use it very much also after +a debauch.’ One of the first attractions of ‘the cup which cheers but +not inebriates’ was as a minister of evil. + +The second epoch of tea was that of excessive taxation; which lasted +from the five shillings Customs’ duty of 1688 to 1745, more than half a +century, in which fiscal folly and prohibition were almost convertible +terms. Yet tea gradually forced its way into domestic use. In a Tatler +of 1710 we read ‘I am credibly informed, by an antiquary who has +searched the registers in which the bills of fare of the court are +recorded, that instead of tea and bread and butter, which have prevailed +of late years, the maids of honour in Queen Elizabeth’s time were +allowed three rumps of beef for their breakfast.’ Tea for breakfast must +have been expensive in 1710. In the original edition of the Tatler, we +have many advertisements about tea, one of which we copy:— + + _From the Tatler of October 10, 1710._ + + “Mr. Fary’s 16_s._ Bohee Tea, not much inferior in goodness to the + best Foreign Bohee Tea, is sold by himself only at the Bell in + Gracechurch Street. Note,—the best Foreign Bohee is worth 30_s._ a + pound; so that what is sold at 20_s._ or 21_s._ must either be faulty + Tea, or mixed with a proportionate quantity of damaged Green or Bohee, + the worst of which will remain black after infusion.” + +‘Mr. Fary’s 16_s._ Bohee Tea, not much inferior in goodness to the best +Foreign Bohee Tea’ was, upon the face of it, an indigenous manufacture. +‘The best Foreign Bohee is worth 30_s._ a pound.’ With such Queen Anne +refreshed herself at Hampton Court: + + ‘Here thou, great Anna, whom three realms obey, + Dost sometimes counsel take, and sometimes tea.’ + +When the best tea was at 30_s._ a pound, the home consumption of tea was +about a hundred and forty thousand pounds per annum. A quarter of a +century later, in the early tea-drinking days of Dr. Johnson, the +consumption had quadrupled. And yet tea was then so dear, that Garrick +was cross even with his favourite actress for using it too freely. ‘I +remember,’ says Johnson, ‘drinking tea with him long ago, when Peg +Woffington made it, and he grumbled at her for making it too strong. He +had then begun to feel money in his purse, and did not know when he +should have enough of it.’ In 1745, the last year of the second tea +epoch, the consumption was only seven hundred and thirty thousand pounds +per annum. Yet even at this period tea was forcing itself into common +use. Duncan Forbes, in his Correspondence, which ranges from 1715 to +1748, is bitter against ‘the excessive use of tea; which is now become +so common, that the meanest families, even of labouring people, +particularly in boroughs, make their morning’s meal of it, and thereby +wholly disuse the ale, which heretofore was their accustomed drink; and +the same drug supplies all the labouring women with their afternoon’s +entertainments, to the exclusion of the twopenny.’ The excellent +President of the Court of Session had his prejudices; and he was +frightened at the notion that tea was driving out beer; and thus, +diminishing the use of malt, was to be the ruin of agriculture. Some one +gave the Government of the day wiser counsel than that of prohibitory +duties, which he desired. + +In 1745, the quantity of tea retained for home consumption was 730,729 +lbs. In 1746, it amounted to 2,358,589 lbs. The consumption was trebled. +The duty had been reduced, in 1745, from 4_s._ per lb. to 1_s._ per lb., +and 25 per cent. on the gross price. For forty years afterwards, the +Legislature contrived to keep the consumption pretty equal with the +increase of the population, putting on a little more duty when the +demand seemed a little increasing. These were the palmy days of Dr. +Johnson’s tea triumphs—the days in which he describes himself as ‘a +hardened and shameless tea drinker, who has for many years diluted his +meals with only the infusion of this fascinating plant; whose kettle has +scarcely time to cool; who with tea amuses the evenings; with tea +solaces the midnights; and with tea welcomes the morning.’ This was the +third epoch—that of considerable taxation, enhancing the monopoly price +of an article, sold to the people at exorbitant profits. + +In 1785, the Government boldly repealed the Excise duty; and imposed +only a Customs’ duty of 12½ per cent. The consumption of tea was doubled +in the first year after the change, and quadrupled in the third. The +system was too good to last. The concession of three years in which the +public might freely use an article of comfort was quite enough for +official liberality and wisdom. New duties were imposed in 1787; the +consumption was again driven back, and by additional duty upon duty, was +kept far behind the increase of the population for another thirty years. +In 1784, the annual consumption was only 4,948,983 lbs.; in 1787, with a +reduced duty, it was 17,047,054 lbs.; in 1807, when we had almost +reached the climax of high duties, it was only 19,239,212 lbs. This +state of things, with very slight alteration, continued till the peace. +The consumption had been nearly stationary for thirty years, with a duty +raised from 12½ per cent. to 96 per cent. Those were the days, which +some of us may remember, when we paid 12_s._ a pound for our green tea, +and 8_s._ for our black; the days when convictions for the sale of +spurious tea were of constant occurrence; and yet the days when Cobbett +was alarmed lest tea should become a common beverage, and calculated +that between eleven and twelve pounds a year were consumed by a +cottager’s family in tea-drinking. During this fourth epoch of excessive +taxation, the habit of tea-drinking had become so rooted in the people, +that no efforts of the Government could destroy it. The teas under 2_s._ +6_d._ a pound (the Company’s warehouse prices without duty), were the +teas of the working classes—the teas of the cottage and the kitchen. In +1801, such teas paid only an excise of 15 per cent.; in 1803, they paid +60 per cent.; in 1806, 90 per cent. And yet the washerwoman looked to +her afternoon ‘dish of tea,’ as something that might make her +comfortable after her twelve hours’ labour; and balancing her saucer on +a tripod of three fingers, breathed a joy beyond utterance as she cooled +the draught. The factory workman then looked forward to the singing of +the kettle, as some compensation for the din of the spindle. Tea had +found its way even to the hearth of the agricultural labourer. He ‘had +lost his rye teeth’—to use his own expression for his preference of +wheaten bread—and he would have his ounce of tea as well as the best of +his neighbours. Sad stuff the chandler’s shop furnished him: no +commodity brought hundreds of miles from the interior of China, chiefly +by human labour; shipped according to the most expensive arrangements; +sold under a limited competition at the dearest rate; and taxed as +highly as its wholesale cost. The small tea-dealers had their +manufactured tea. But they had also their smuggled tea. The pound of tea +which sold for eight shillings in England, was selling at Hamburg for +fourteenpence. It was hard indeed if the artisan did not occasionally +obtain a cup of good tea at a somewhat lower price than the King and +John Company had willed. No dealer could send out six pounds of tea +without a permit. Excisemen were issuing permits and examining permits +all over the kingdom. But six hundred per cent. profit was too much for +the weakness of human nature and the power of the exciseman. + +From the peace, to the opening of the China tea-trade in 1833, and the +repeal of the excise duty in 1834, there was a considerable increase in +the consumption of tea, but not an increase at all comparable to the +increase since 1834. We consumed ten million pounds more tea in 1833 +than in 1816, a period of sixteen years; we consumed in 1848, a period +of fifteen years, seventeen million pounds more than in 1833. In 1848 we +retained for home consumption, 48,735,791 pounds. It is this present +period of large consumption which forms the fifth epoch. + +The present duty on tea is 2_s._ 2¼_d._ a pound. The experienced +housewife knows where to buy excellent tea at 4_s._ a pound. But there +are shops in London where tea may be bought at 3_s._, and 3_s._ 4_d._ a +pound. Such low priced teas are used more freely than ever by the +hard-working poor. The duty is now unvarying, but enormously high. It is +unnecessary to assume that the cheap teas are now adulterated teas. In +the London Price Currents of the present May, there are several sorts of +tea as low as 8_d._ per pound, wholesale without duty. The finer teas +vary from 1_s._ to 2_s._ In 1833, previous to the opening of the China +trade, the price of Congou tea in the Company’s warehouses ranged from +2_s._ to 3_s._ per pound; in 1850 the lowest current price was 9_d._, +the highest 1_s._ 4_d._ In 1833, the Company’s price of Hyson tea varied +from 3_s._ to 5_s._ 6_d._; in 1850, the lowest current price was 1_s._ +2_d._, the highest 3_s._ 4_d._ + +With the amount of duty on tea twice as high in 1850 as in 1833, how is +it that tea may be universally bought at one half of the price of 1833? +How is it that an article which yields five millions of revenue has +become so cheap that it is now scarcely a luxury? Before we answer this, +let us explain why we say that the duty is twice as high now as in 1833. +Before the opening of the China trade tea was taxed under the Excise at +an ad-valorem duty of ninety-six per cent. on one sort, and one hundred +per cent. on another, which gave an average of about half-a-crown a +pound. Those who resisted the destruction of the Company’s monopoly +predicted that the supply would fall off under the open trade; that the +Chinese would not deal with private merchants; that the market for tea +in China was a limited one; that tea would become scarcer and dearer. +The Government knew better than this. It repealed the Excise duty with +all its cumbrous machinery of permits; and it imposed a Customs’ duty +_at per pound_, which exists now, as it did in 1836, with the addition +of five per cent. Had the duty of 1833 been continued,—the hundred per +cent duty—the great bulk of tea, which is sold at an average of a +shilling a pound would have been only taxed a shilling a pound; it is +now taxed 2_s._ 2¼_d._ By a side-wind, the Government, with what some +persons may call financial foresight, doubled the tax upon the humbler +consumers. But it may be fairly questioned whether, if the tax of 1833 +had continued, the Government would not have secured as much revenue by +the poor doubling their consumption of tea. The demand for no article of +general use is so fluctuating as that for tea. In seasons of prosperity, +the consumption rises several millions of pounds above the average; in +times of depression it falls as much below. Tea is the barometer of the +poor man’s command of something more than bread. With a tax of 2_s._ +2¼_d._ a pound, it is clear that if sound commercial principles, +improved navigation, wholesale competition, and moderate retail profits, +had not found their way into the tea-trade, since the abolition of the +monopoly in 1833, the revenue upon tea would have been stationary, +instead of having increased a million and a half. All the manifold +causes that produce commercial cheapness in general—science, careful +employment of capital in profitable exchange, certainty and rapidity of +communication, extension of the market—have been especially working to +make tea cheap. Tea is more and more becoming a necessary of life to all +classes. Tea was denounced first as a poison, and then as an +extravagance. Cobbett was furious against it. An Edinburgh Reviewer of +1823, keeps no terms with its use by the poor: ‘We venture to assert, +that when a labourer fancies himself refreshed with a mess of this +stuff, sweetened by the coarsest black sugar, and with azure blue milk, +it is only the warmth of the water that soothes him for the moment; +unless, perhaps, the sweetness may be palatable also.’ It is dangerous +even for great reviewers to ‘venture to assert.’ In a few years after +comes Liebig, with his chemical discoveries; and demonstrates that +coffee and tea have become necessaries of life to whole nations, by the +presence of one and the same substance in both vegetables, which has a +peculiar effect upon the animal system; that they were both originally +met with amongst nations whose diet is chiefly vegetable; and, by +contributing to the formation of bile, their peculiar function, have +become a substitute for animal food to a large class of the population +whose consumption of meat is very limited, and to another large class +who are unable to take regular exercise. + +Tea and coffee, then, are more especially essential to the poor. They +supply a void which the pinched labourer cannot so readily fill up with +weak and sour ale; they are substitutes for the country walk to the +factory girl, or the seamstress in a garret. They are ministers to +temperance; they are home comforts. Mrs. Piozzi making tea for Dr. +Johnson till four o’clock in the morning, and listening contentedly to +his wondrous talk, is a pleasant anecdote of the first century of tea; +the artisan’s wife, lingering over the last evening cup, while her +husband reads his newspaper or his book, is something higher, which +belongs to our own times. + + + + + THE SICKNESS AND HEALTH OF THE PEOPLE OF BLEABURN. + + + IN THREE PARTS.—CHAPTER VI. + +The new clergyman was, as the landlord had supposed he would be, a very +different person from Mr. Finch. If he had not been a fearless man, he +would not have come: much less would he have brought his wife, which he +did. The first sight of this respectable couple, middle-aged, business +like, and somewhat dry in their manner, tended to give sobriety to the +tone of mind of the Bleaburn people; a sobriety which was more and more +wanted from day to day; while certainly the aspect of Bleaburn was +enough to discourage the new residents, let their expectations have been +as dismal as they might. + +Mr. and Mrs. Kirby arrived when Bleaburn was at its lowest point of +depression and woe. The churchyard was now so full that it could not be +made to hold more; and ten or eleven corpses were actually lying +unburied, infecting half-a-dozen cottages from this cause. There was an +actual want of food in the place—so few were able to earn wages. Farmer +Neale did all he could to tempt his neighbours to work for him; for no +strangers would come near a place which was regarded as a pesthouse; but +the strongest arm had lost its strength; and the men, even those who had +not had the fever, said they felt as if they could never work again. The +women went on, as habitual knitters do, knitting early and late, almost +night and day; but there was no sale. Even if their wares were avouched +to have been passed through soap and water before they were brought to +O——, still no one would run the slightest risk for the sake of hose and +comforters; and week after week, word was sent that nothing was sold: +and at last, that it would be better not to send any more knitted goods. +In the midst of all this distress, there was no one to speak to the +people; no one to keep their minds clear and their hearts steady. For +many weeks, there had not been a prayer publicly read, nor a psalm sung. +Meanwhile, the great comet appeared nightly, week after week. It seemed +as if it would never go away; and there was a general persuasion that +the comet was sent for a sign to Bleaburn alone, and not at all for the +rest of the earth, or of the universe; and that the fever would not be +stayed while the sign remained in the sky. It would have been well if +this had been the worst. The people, always rude, were now growing +desperate; and they found, as desperate people usually do, an object +near at hand to vent their fury upon. They said that it was the doctor’s +business to make them well: that he had not made them well: that so many +had died, that anybody might see how foul means had been used; and that +at last some of the doctor’s tricks had come out. Two of Dick Taylor’s +children had been all but choked, by some of the doctor’s physic; and +they might have died, if the Good Lady had not chanced to have been +there at the moment, and known what to do. And the doctor tried to get +off with saying that it was a mistake, and that that physic was never +made to go down anybody’s throat. They said, too, that it was only in +this doctor’s time that there had been such a fever. There was none such +in the late doctor’s time; nor now, in other places—at least, not so +bad. It was nothing like so bad at O——. The doctor had spoken lightly of +the comet: he had made old Nan Dart burn the bedding that her +grandmother left her—the same that so many of her family had died on: +and, though he gave her new bedding, it could never be the same to her +as the old. But there was no use talking. The doctor was there to make +them well; and instead of doing that, he made two out of three die, of +those that had the fever. Such grumblings broke out into storm; and when +Mr. and Mrs. Kirby descended into the hollow which their friends feared +would be their tomb, they found the whole remaining population of the +place blocking up the street before the doctor’s house, and smashing his +phials, and making a pile of his pill-boxes and little drawers, as they +were handed out of his surgery window. A woman had brought a candle at +the moment to fire the pill-boxes: and she kneeled down to apply the +flame. The people had already broken bottles enough to spill a good deal +of queer stuff; and some of this stuff was so queer as to blaze up, half +as high as the houses, as quick as thought. The flame ran along the +ground, and spread like magic. The people fled, supposing this the +doings of the comet and the doctor together. Off they went, up and down, +and into the houses whose doors were open. But the woman’s clothes were +on fire. She would have run too; but Mr. Kirby caught her arm, and his +firm grasp made her stand, while Mrs. Kirby wrapped her camlet cloak +about the part that was on fire. It was so quickly done—in such a moment +of time, that the poor creature was not much burned; not at all +dangerously; and the new pastor was at once informed of the character of +the charge he had undertaken. + +That very evening Warrender was sent through the village, as crier, to +give a notice, to which every ear was open. Mr. Kirby having had medical +assurance that it was injurious to the public health that more funerals +should take place in the churchyard, and that the bodies should lie +unburied, would next day, bury the dead above the brow, on a part of +Furzy Knoll, selected for the purpose. For anything unusual about this +proceeding, Mr. Kirby would be answerable, considering the present state +of the village of Bleaburn. A waggon would pass through the village at +six o’clock the next morning; and all who had a coffin in their houses +were requested to bring it out, for solemn conveyance to the new burial +ground: and those who wished to attend the interment must be on the +ground at eight o’clock. + +All ears were open again the next morning, when the cart made its slow +progress down the street; and some went out to see. It was starlight: +and from the east came enough of dawn to show how the vehicle looked +with the pall thrown over it. Now and then, as it passed a space between +the houses, a puff of wind blew aside the edge of the pall, and then the +coffins were seen within, ranged one upon another,—quite a load of them. +It stopped for a minute at the bottom of the street; and it was a relief +to the listeners to hear Warrender tell the driver that there were no +more, and that he might proceed up to the brow. After watching the +progress of the cart till it could no longer be distinguished from the +wall of grey rock along which it was ascending, those who could be +spared from tending the sick put on such black as they could muster, to +go to the service. + +It was, happily, a fine morning;—as fine a November morning as could be +seen. It is not often that weather is of so much consequence as it was +to the people of Bleaburn to-day. They could not themselves have told +how it was that they came down from the awful service at Furzy Knoll so +much more light-hearted than they went up; and when some of them were +asked the reason, by those who remained below, they could not explain +it,—but, somehow, everything looked brighter. It was, in fact, not +merely the calm sunshine on the hills, and the quiet shadows in the +hollows; it was not merely the ruddy tinge of the autumn ferns on the +slopes, or the lively hop and flit of the wag-tail about the +spring-heads and the stones in the pool; it was not merely that the fine +morning yielded cheering influences like these, but that it enabled +many, who would have been kept below by rain, to hear what their new +pastor had to say. After going through the burial service very quietly, +and waiting with a cheerful countenance while the business of lowering +so many coffins by so few hands was effected, he addressed, in a plain +and conversational style, those who were present. He told them that he +had never before witnessed an interment like this; and he did not at all +suppose that either he or they should see such another. Indeed, +henceforth any funerals must take place without delay; as they very well +might, now that, on this beautiful spot, there was room without limit. +He told them how Farmer Neale had had the space they saw staked out +since yesterday, and how it would be fenced in—roughly, perhaps, but +securely—before night. He hoped and believed the worst of the sickness +was over. The cold weather was coming on; and, perhaps, he said with a +smile, it might be a comfort to some of them to know that the comet was +going away. He could not say for himself that he should not be sorry +when it disappeared; for he thought it a very beautiful sight, and one +which reminded every eye that saw it how ‘the heavens declare the glory +of God;’ and the wisest men were all agreed that it was a sign,—not of +any mischief, but of the beauty of God’s handiwork in the firmament, as +the Scriptures call the starry sky. The fact was, it was found that +comets come round regularly, like some of the other stars and our own +moon; and when a comet had once been seen, people of a future time would +know when to look for it again, and would be too wise to be afraid of +it. But he had better tell them about such things at another time, when +perhaps they would let their children come up to his house, and look +through a telescope,—a glass that magnified things so much, that when +they saw the stars, they would hardly believe they were the same stars +that they saw every clear night. Perhaps they might then think the +commonest star as wonderful as any comet. Another reason why they might +hope for better health was, that people at a distance now knew more of +the distress of Bleaburn than they had done; and he could assure his +neighbours, that supplies of nourishing food and wholesome clothing +would be lodged with the cordon till the people of the place could once +more earn their own living. Another reason why they might hope for +better health was, that they were learning by experience what was good +for health and what was bad. This was a very serious and important +subject, on which he would speak to them again and again, on Sundays and +at all times, till he had shown them what he thought about their having, +he might almost say, their lives and health in their own hands. He was +sure that God had ordered it so; and he expected to be able to prove to +them, by and by, that there need be no fever in Bleaburn if they chose +to prevent it. And now, about these Sundays and week days. He deeply +pitied them that they had been cut off from worship during their time of +distress. He thought there might be an end to that now. He would not +advise their assembling in the church. There were the same reasons +against it that there were two months ago; but there was no place on +earth where men might not worship God, if they wished it. If it were now +the middle of summer, he should say that the spot they were standing +on,—even yet so fresh and so sunny,—was the best they could have; but +soon the winter winds would blow, and the cold rains would come driving +over the hills. This would not do: but there was a warm nook in the +hollow,—the crag behind the mill,—where there was shelter from the east +and north, and the warmest sunshine ever felt in the hollow,—too hot in +summer, but very pleasant now. There he proposed to read prayers three +times a week, at an hour which should be arranged according to the +convenience of the greatest number; and there he would perform service +and preach a sermon on Sundays, when the weather permitted. He should +have been inclined to ask Farmer Neale for one of his barns, or to +propose to meet even in his kitchen; but he found his neighbours still +feared that meeting anywhere but in the open air would spread the fever. +He did not himself believe that one person gave the fever to another; +but as long as his neighbours thought so, he would not ask them to do +what might make them afraid. Then there was a settling what hours should +be appointed for worship at the crag; and the mourners came trooping +down into the hollow, with brightened eyes, and freshened faces, and +altogether much less like mourners than when they went up. + +Before night, Mr. Kirby had visited every sick person in the place, in +company with the doctor. The poor doctor would hardly have ventured to +go his round without the assistance of some novelty that might divert +the attention of the people from his atrocities. Mr. Kirby did not +attempt to get rid of the subject. He told the discontented, to their +faces, that the doctor knew his business better than they did; and bade +them remember that it was not the doctor but themselves that had set +fire to spirits of wine, or something of that sort, in the middle of the +street, whereby a woman was in imminent danger of being burnt to death; +and that their outrage on the good fame and property of a gentleman who +had worn himself half dead with fatigue and anxiety on their account +might yet cost them very dear, if it were not understood that they were +so oppressed with sorrow and want that they did not know what they were +about. His consultations with the doctor from house to house, and his +evident deference to him in regard to matters of health and sickness, +wrought a great change in a few hours; and the effect was prodigiously +increased when Mrs. Kirby, herself a surgeon’s daughter, and no stranger +in a surgery, offered her daily assistance in making up the medicines, +and administering such as might be misused by those who could not read +the labels. + +“That is what the Good Lady does, when she can get out at the right +time,” observed some one; “but now poor Jem is down, and his mother +hardly up again yet, it is not every day, as she says, that she can go +so far out of call.” + +“Who is this Good Lady?” inquired Mr. Kirby. “I have been hardly +twenty-four hours in this place, and I seem to have heard her name fifty +times; and yet nobody seems able to say who she is.” + +“She almost overpowers their faculties, I believe,” replied the doctor; +“and, indeed, it is not very easy to look upon her as upon any other +young lady. It comes easier to one’s tongue to call her an angel than to +introduce her as Miss Mary Pickard, from America.” + +When he had told what he knew of her, the Kirbys said, in the same +breath, + +“Let us go and see her.” And the doctor showed them the way to Widow +Johnson’s, where poor Jem was languishing, in that state which is so +affecting to witness, when he who has no intellect seems to have more +power of patience than he who has most. The visitors arrived at a +critical moment, however, when poor Jem’s distress was very great, and +his mother’s hardly less. There lay the Good Lady on the ground, doubled +up in a strange sort of way; Mrs. Johnson trying to go to her, but +unable; and Jem, on his bed in the closet within, crying because +something was clearly the matter. + +“What’s to do now?” exclaimed the doctor. + +Mary laughed as she answered, “O nothing, but that I can’t get up. I +don’t know how I fell, and I can’t get up. But it is mere fatigue—want +of sleep. Do convince Aunty that I have not got the fever.” + +“Let’s see,” said the doctor. Then, after a short study of his new +patient, he assured Mrs. Johnson that he saw no signs of fever about her +niece. She had had enough of nursing for the present, and now she must +have rest. + +“That is just it,” said Mary. “If somebody will put something under me +here, and just let me sleep for a few days, I shall do very well.” + +“Not there, Miss Pickard,” said Mrs. Kirby, “you must be brought to our +house, where everything will be quiet about you; and then you may sleep +on till Christmas, if you will.” + +Mary felt the kindness; but she evidently preferred remaining where she +was; and, with due consideration, she was indulged. She did not wish to +be carried through the street, so that the people might see that the +Good Lady was down at last; and besides, she felt as if she should die +by the way, though really believing she should do very well if only let +alone. She was allowed to order things just as she liked. A mattress was +put under her, on the floor. Ann Warrender came and undressed her, +lifting her limbs as if she was an infant, for she could not move them +herself; and daily was she refreshed, as she had taught others to +refresh those who cannot move from their beds. Every morning the doctor +came, and agreed with her that there was nothing in the world the matter +with her; that she had only to lie still till she felt the wish to get +up; and every day came Mrs. Kirby to take a look at her, if her eyes +were closed: and if she was able to talk and listen, to tell her how the +sick were faring, and what were the prospects of Bleaburn. After these +visits, something good was often found near the pillow; some firm jelly, +or particularly pure arrow-root, or the like; odd things to be dropped +by the fairies; but Mrs. Kirby said the neighbours liked to think that +the Good Lady was waited on by the Good People. + +Another odd thing was, that for several days Mary could not sleep at +all. She would have liked it, and she needed it extremely, and the +window curtain was drawn, and everybody was very quiet, and even poor +Jem caught the trick of quietness, and lay immoveable for hours, when +the door of his closet was open, watching to see her sleep. But she +could not. She felt, what was indeed true, that Aunty’s large black eyes +were for ever fixed upon her; and she could not but be aware that the +matter of the very first public concern in Bleaburn was, that she should +go to sleep; and this was enough to prevent it. At last, when people +were getting frightened, and even the doctor told Mr. Kirby that he +should be glad to correct this insomnolence, the news went softly along +the street one day, told in whispers even at the further end, that the +Good Lady was asleep. The children were warned that they must keep +within doors, or go up to the brow to play; there must be no noise in +the hollow. The dogs were not allowed to bark, nor the ducks to quack; +and Farmer Neale’s carts were, on no account, to go below the Plough and +Harrow. The patience of all persons who liked to make a noise was tried +and proved, for nobody broke the rule; and when Mary once began +sleeping, it seemed as if she would never stop. She could hardly keep +awake to eat, or to be washed; and, as for having her hair brushed, that +is always drowsy work, and she could never look before her for two +minutes together while it was done. She thought it all very ridiculous, +and laughed at her own laziness, and then, before the smile was off her +lips, she had sunk on her pillow and was asleep again. + + + PART III. + CHAPTER VII. + +It was a regular business now for three or four of the boys of Bleaburn +to go up to the brow every morning to bring down the stores from O——, +which were daily left there under the care of the watch. Mr. Kirby had +great influence already with the boys of Bleaburn. He found plenty for +them to do, and, when they were very hungry with running about, he gave +them wholesome food to satisfy their healthy appetite. He said, he and +Mrs. Kirby and the doctor worked hard, and they could not let anybody be +idle but those who were ill: and, now that the regular work and wages of +the place were suspended, he arranged matters after his own sense of the +needs of the people. The boys who survived and were in health, formed a +sort of regiment under his orders, and they certainly never liked work +so well before. Every little fellow felt his own consequence, and was +aware of his own responsibility. A certain number, as has been said, +went up to the brow to bring down the stores. A certain number were to +succeed each other at the doctor’s door, from hour to hour, to carry +medicines, that the sick might neither be kept waiting, nor be liable to +be served with the wrong medicine, from too many sorts being carried in +a basket together. Others attended upon Warrender, with pail and brush, +and helped him with his lime-washing. At first it was difficult, as has +been said, to induce the lads to volunteer for this service, and Mr. +Kirby directed much argument and persuasion towards their supposed fear +of entering the cottages where people were lying sick. This was not the +reason, however, as Warrender explained, with downcast eyes, when Mr. +Kirby wondered what ailed the lads, that they ran all sorts of dangers +all day long, and shirked this one. + +“’Tis not the danger, I fancy, Sir,” said Warrender; “they are not so +much afraid of the fever as of going with me, I’m sorry to say.” + +“Afraid of you!” said Mr. Kirby, laughing. “What harm could you do +them?” + +“’Tis my temper, Sir, I’m afraid.” + +“What is the matter with your temper? I see nothing amiss with it.” + +“And I hope you never may, Sir: but I can’t answer for myself, though at +this moment I know the folly of such passion as these lads have seen in +me. Sir, it has been my way to be violent with them; and I don’t wonder +they slink away from me. But—” + +“I am really quite surprised,” said Mr. Kirby. “This is all news to me. +I should have said you were a remarkably staid, quiet, persevering man; +and, I am sure, very kind hearted.” + +“You have seen us all at such a time, you know, Sir! It is not only the +misfortunes of the time that sober us, but when there is so much to do +for one’s neighbours, one’s mind does not want to be in a passion—so to +speak.” + +“Very true. The best part of us is roused, and puts down the worse. I +quite agree with you, Warrender.” + +The boys were not long in learning that there was nothing now to fear +from Warrender. No one was sent staggering from a box on the ear. No +hair was ever pulled; nor was any boy ever shaken in his jacket. Instead +of doing such things, Warrender made companions of his young assistants, +taught them to do well whatever they put their hands to, and made them +willing and happy. While two or three thus waited on him, others carried +home the clean linen that his daughter and a neighbour or two were +frequently ready to send out: and they daily changed the water in the +tubs where the foul linen was deposited. Others, again, swept and washed +down the long steep street, making it look almost as clean as if it +belonged to a Dutch village. After the autumn pig-killing, there were +few or no more pigs. The poor sufferers could not attend to them; could +not afford, indeed, to buy them; and had scarcely any food to give them. +Though this was a token of poverty, it was hardly to be lamented in +itself, under the circumstances; for there is no foulness whatever, no +nastiness that is to be found among the abodes of men, so dangerous to +health as that of pig-styes. There is mismanagement in this. People take +for granted that the pig is a dirty animal, and give him no chance of +being clean; whereas, if they would try the experiment of keeping his +house swept, and putting his food always in one place, and washing him +with soap and water once a week, they would find that he knows how to +keep his pavement clean, and that he runs grunting to meet his washing +with a satisfaction not to be mistaken. Such was the conclusion of the +boys who undertook the purification of the two or three pigs that +remained in Bleaburn. As for the empty styes, they were cleaner than +many of the cottages. After a conversation with Mr. Kirby, Farmer Neale +bought all the dirt-heaps for manure; and in a few days they were all +trundled away in barrows—even to the stable-manure from the Plough and +Harrow—and heaped together at the farm, and well shut down with a casing +of earth, beat firm with spades. Boys really like such work as this, +when they are put upon it in the right way. They were less dirty than +they would have been with tumbling about and quarrelling and cuffing in +the filthy street; in a finer glow of exercise; with a more wholesome +appetite; and far more satisfaction in eating, because they had earned +their food. Moreover, they began to feel themselves little friends of +the grown people—of Mr. and Mrs. Kirby, and the Doctor, and the +Warrenders—instead of a sort of reptiles, or other plague; and Mr. Kirby +astonished them so by a bit of amusement now and then, when he had time, +that they would have called him a conjuror, if he had not been a +clergyman. He made a star—any star they pleased—as large as the comet, +just by making them look at it through a tube; and he showed them how he +took a drop of foul water from a stinking pool, and put it between +glasses in a hole in his window-shutter; and how the drop became like a +pond, and was found to be swarming with loathsome live creatures, +swimming about, and trying to swallow each other. After these +exhibitions, it is true the comet seemed much less wonderful and +terrible than before; but then the drop of water was infinitely more so. +The lads studied Mr. Kirby’s cistern—so carefully covered, and so +regularly cleaned out; and they learned how the water he drank at dinner +was filtered; and then they went and scoured out the few water-tubs +there were in the village, and consulted their neighbours as to how the +public of Bleaburn could be persuaded not to throw filth and refuse into +the stream at the upper part, defiling it for those who lived lower +down. + +One morning at the beginning of December—on such a morning as was now +sadly frequent, drizzly, and far too warm for the season—the lads who +went up to the brow saw the same sight that had been visible in the same +place one evening in the preceding August. There was a chaise, and an +anxious post-boy, and a lady talking with one of the cordon. Mr. Kirby +had learned what friends Mary Pickard had in England, and which of them +lived nearest, and he had taken the liberty of writing to declare the +condition of the Good Lady. His letter brought the friend, Mrs. +Henderson, who came charged with affectionate messages to Mary from her +young daughters, and a fixed determination not to return without the +invalid. + +“To think,” as she said to Mary when she appeared by the side of her +mattress, “that you should be in England, suffering in this way, and we +not have any idea what you were going through!” + +Mary smiled, and said she had gone through nothing terrible on her own +account. She might have been at Mr. Kirby’s for three weeks past, but +that she really preferred being where she was. + +“Do not ask her now, Madam, where she likes to be,” said Mr. Kirby, who +had been brought down the street by the bustle of a stranger’s arrival. +“Do not consult her at all, but take her away, and nurse her well.” + +“Yes,” said the Doctor; “lay her in a good air, and let her sleep, and +feed her well; and she will soon come round. She is better—even here.” + +“Madam,” said Widow Johnson’s feeble but steady voice, “be to her what +she has been to us; raise her up to what she was when I first heard her +step upon those stairs, and we shall say you deserve to be her friend.” + +“You will go, will not you?” whispered Mrs. Kirby to Mary. “You will let +us manage it all for you?” + +“Do what you please with me,” was the reply. “You know best how to get +me well soonest. Only let me tell Aunty that I will come again, as soon +as I am able.” + +“Better not,” said the prudent Mrs. Kirby. “There is no saying what may +be the condition of this place by the spring. And it might keep Mrs. +Johnson in a state of expectation not fit for one so feeble. Better +not.” + +“Very well,” said Mary. + +Mrs. Kirby thought of something that her husband had said of Mary; that +he had never seen any one with such power of will and command so docile. +She merely promised her aunt frequent news of her; agreed with those who +doubted whether she could bear the jolting of any kind of carriage on +the road up to the brow; admitted that, though she could now stand, she +could not walk across the room; allowed herself to be carried on her +mattress in a carpet, by four men, up to the chaise; and nodded in reply +to a remark made by one little girl to another in the street, and which +the doctor wished she had not heard, that she looked “rarely bad.” + +The landlady at O—— seemed, by her countenance, to have much the same +opinion of Mary’s looks, when she herself brought out the glass of wine, +for which Mrs. Henderson stopped her chaise at the door of the Cross +Keys. The landlady brought it herself, because none of her people would +give as much as a glass of cold water, hand to hand with any one who +came from Bleaburn. The landlady stood shaking her head, and saying she +had done the best she could; she had warned the young lady in time. + +“But you were quite out in your warning,” said Mary. “You were sure I +should have the fever: but I have not.” + +“You have not!” + +“I have had no disease—no complaint whatever. I am only weak from +fatigue.” + +“It is quite true,” said Mrs. Henderson, as the hostess turned to her +for confirmation. “Good wine like this, the fresh air of our moors, and +the easy sleep that comes to Good Ladies like her, are the only +medicines she wants.” + +The landlady curtsied low—said the payment made should supply a glass of +wine to somebody at Bleaburn, and bade the driver proceed. After a mile +or two, he turned his head, touched his hat, and directed the ladies’ +attention to a bottle of wine, with loosened cork, and a cup which the +hostess had contrived to smuggle into the pocket of the chaise. She was +sure the young lady would want some wine before they stopped. + +“How kind every body is!” said Mary, with swimming eyes. Mrs. Henderson +cleared her throat, and looked out of the window on her side. + + + + + YOUNG RUSSIA. + + +Certain social theorists have, of late years, proclaimed themselves to +the puzzled public under the name and signification of ‘Young.’ Young +France, Young Germany, and Young England have had their day, and having +now grown older, and by consequence wiser, are comparatively mute. In +accordance with what seems a natural law, it is only when a fashion is +being forgotten where it originated—in the west—that it reaches Russia, +which rigidly keeps a century or so behind the rest of the Continent. It +is only recently, therefore, that we hear of ‘Young Russia.’ + +The main principles of all these national youths are alike. They are +pleasingly picturesque—simperingly amiable; with a pretty and piquant +dash of paradox. What they propose is not new birth, or dashing out into +new systems, and taking advantage of new ideas; but reverting to old +systems, and furbishing them up so as to look as good as new. +Re-juvenescence is their aim; the middle ages their motto. Young +England, to wit, desires to replace things as they were in the days of +the pack-horse, the thumb-screw, the monastery, the ducking-stool, the +knight errant, trial by battle, and the donjon-keep. To these he wishes +to apply all possible modern improvements, to adapt them to present +ideas, and to present events. Though he would have no objection to his +mailed knight travelling per first-class railway, he would abolish +luggage-trains to encourage intestine trade and the breed of that noble +animal the pack-horse. He has indeed done something in the monastic +line; but his efforts for the dissemination of superstition, and his +denunciations of a certain sort of witchcraft, have signally failed. In +truth, the task he has set himself—that of re-constructing society anew +out of old materials—though highly archæological, historical, and +poetic, has the fatal disadvantage of being simply impossible. It is +telling the people of the nineteenth century to carry their minds, +habits, and sentiments back, so as to become people of the thirteenth +century; it is trying to make new muslin out of mummy cloth, or razors +out of rusty nails. + +‘Young Russia’ is an equal absurdity, but from a precisely opposite +cause; for, indeed, this sort of youth out of age is a series of +paradoxes. The Russian of the present day _is_ the Russian of past ages. +He exists by rule—the rule of despotism—which is as old as the Medes and +Persians; and which forces him into an iron mould that shapes his +appearance, his mind, and his actions, to one pattern, from one +generation to another. Hence everything that lives and breathes in +Russia being antique, there is no appreciable antiquity. The new school, +therefore—even if amateur politics were allowable in Russia, which they +are not, as a large population of exiles in Siberia can testify—has no +materials to work upon. Stagnation is the political law, and Young +Russia dies in its babyhood for want of sustenance. What goes by the +name of civilisation, is no advance in wealth, morals, or social +happiness. It is merely a tinsel coating over the rottenness and rust +with which Russian life is ‘sicklied o’er.’ It has nothing to do with a +single soul below the rank of a noble; and with him it means champagne, +bad pictures, Parisian tailors, operas, gaming, and other expences and +elegancies imported from the West. Hundreds of provincial noblemen are +ruined every year in St. Petersburg, in undergoing this process of +civilisation. The fortunes thus wasted are enormous; yet there is only +one railroad now in operation throughout the whole empire, and that +belongs to the Emperor, and leads to one of his palaces a few miles from +the Capital. Such is Russian civilisation. What then is Young Russia to +do? Ask one of its youngest apostles, Ivan Vassilievitsch. + +This young gentleman—for an introduction to whom we are indebted to +Count Sollogub—was, not long ago, parading the Iverskoy boulevard—one of +the thirteen which half encircle Moscow—when he met a neighbour from the +province of Kazan. Ivan had lately returned from abroad. He was a +perfect specimen of the new school, inside and out. Within, he had +imbibed all the ideas of the juvenile or verdant schools of Germany, +France, and England. Without, he displayed a London macintosh; his coat +and trowsers had been designed and executed by Parisian artists; his +hair was cut in the style of the middle ages; and his chin showed the +remnants of a Vandyke beard. He also resembled the new school in another +respect: he had spent all his money, yet he was separated from home by +the distance of a long—a Russian—journey. + +To meet with a neighbour—which he did—who travelled in his own carriage, +in which he offered a seat, was the height of good fortune. The more so, +as Ivan wished to see as much of Russian life on the road as possible, +and to note down his _impressions_ in a journal, whose white leaves were +as yet unsullied with ink. From the information he intended to collect, +he intended to commence helping to reconstruct Russian society after the +order of the new Russiaites. + +The vehicle in which this great mission was to be performed, was a +humble family affair called a _Tarantas_.[1] After a series of +adventures—but which did not furnish Ivan a single _impression_ for his +note-book—they arrive at Vladimir, the capital of a province or +‘government.’ Here the younger traveller meets with a friend, to whom he +confides his intention of visiting all the other Government towns for +‘Young Russia’ purposes. His friend’s reply is dispiriting to the last +degree:— + +Footnote 1: + + For further particulars of this comfortable conveyance, its occupants, + and their adventures, we must refer the reader to Count Sollogub’s + amusing little book, to which he has given the name of ‘The Tarantas.’ + +“There is no difference between our government towns. See one, and +you’ll know them all!” + +“Is it possible?” + +“It is so, I assure you, Every one has a High-street; one principal +shop, where the country gentlemen buy silks for their wives, and +champagne for themselves; then there are the Courts of Justice, the +assembly-rooms, an apothecary’s shop, a river, a square, a bazaar, two +or three street-lamps, sentry-boxes for the watchmen, and the governor’s +house.” + +“The society, however, in the government towns must be different?” + +“On the contrary. The society is still more uniform than the buildings.” + +“You astonish me: how is that?” + +“Listen. There is, of course, in every government town a governor. These +do not always resemble each other; but as soon as any one of them +appears, police and secretaries immediately become active, merchants and +tradesmen bow, and the gentry draw themselves up, with, however, some +little awe. Wherever the governor goes, he is sure to find champagne, +the wine so much patronised in the province, and everybody drinks a +bumper to the health of the ‘_father of the province_.’ Governors +generally are well-bred, and sometimes very proud. They like to give +dinner parties, and benevolently condescend to play a game of whist with +rich brandy-contractors and landowners.” + +“That’s a common thing,” remarked Ivan Vassilievitsch. + +“Do not interrupt me. Besides the governor, there is in nearly every +government town the governor’s lady. She is rather a peculiar personage. +Generally brought up in one of the two capitals, and spoiled with the +cringing attentions of her company. On her husband’s first entry into +office, she is polite and affable; later, she begins to feel weary of +the ordinary provincial intrigues and gossips; she gets accustomed to +the slavish attentions she receives, and lays claim to them. At this +period she surrounds herself with a parasitical suite; she quarrels with +the lady of the vice-governor; she brags of St. Petersburg; speaks with +disdain of her provincial circle, and finally draws upon herself the +utmost universal ill-feeling, which is kept up till the day of her +departure, when all goes into oblivion, everything is pardoned, and +everybody bids her farewell with tears.” + +“Two persons do not form the whole society of a town,” interrupted again +Ivan Vassilievitsch. + +“Patience, brother, patience! Certainly there are other persons besides +the two I have just spoken of: there is the vice-governor and his lady; +several presidents, with their respective ladies, and an innumerable +crowd of functionaries serving under their leadership. The ladies are +ever quarrelling in words, whilst their husbands do the same thing upon +foolscap. The presidents, for the most part, are men of advanced age and +business-like habits, with great crosses hanging from their necks, and +are during the daytime to be seen out of their courts only on holidays. +The government attorney is generally a single man, and an enviable +match. The superior officer of the _gens-d’armes_ is a ‘good fellow.’ +The nobility-marshal a great sportsman. Besides the government and the +local officers, there live in a government town stingy landowners, or +those who have squandered away their property; they gamble from evening +to morning, nay, from morning to evening too, without getting the least +bit tired of their exercise.” + +“Now, about the mode of living?” asked Ivan Vassilievitsch. + +“The mode of living is a very dull one. An exchange of ceremonious +visits. Intrigues, cards—cards, intrigues. Now and then, perchance, you +may meet with a kind, hospitable family, but such a case is very rare; +you much oftener find a ludicrous affectation to imitate the manners of +an imaginary high life. There are no public amusements in a government +town. During winter a series of balls are announced to take place at the +Assembly-rooms; however, from an absurd primness, these balls are little +frequented, because no one wants to be the first in the room. The ‘_bon +genre_’ remains at home and plays whist. In general, I have remarked, +that on arriving in a government town, it seems as if you were too early +or too late for some extraordinary event. You are ever welcomed: ‘What a +pity you were not here yesterday!’ or, ‘You should stay here till +to-morrow.’” + +In process of time Ivan Vassilievitsch and his good-natured fat +companion, Vassily Ivanovitsch, reach a borough town, where the Tarantas +breaks down. There is a tavern and here is a description of it. + +‘The tavern was like any other tavern,—a large wooden hut, with the +usual out-buildings. At the entrance stood an empty cart. The staircase +was crooked and shaky, and at the top of it, like a moving candelabrum, +stood a waiter with a tallow candle in his hand. To the right was the +tap-room, painted from time immemorial to imitate a grove. Tumblers, +tea-pots, decanters, three silver and a great number of pewter spoons, +adorned the shelves of a cupboard; a couple of lads in chintz shirts, +with dirty napkins over their shoulders, busied themselves at the bar. +Through an open door you saw in the next room a billiard table, and a +hen gravely promenading upon it. + +‘Our travellers were conducted into the principal room of this elegant +establishment, where they found, seated round a boiling tea-urn, three +merchants,—one grey-haired, one red-haired, and one dark-haired. Each of +these was armed with a steaming tumbler; each of them sipped, smacked +his lips, stroked his beard and sipped again the fragrant beverage. + +‘The red-haired man was saying:—’ + +“I made, last summer, a splendid bargain: I had bought from a company of +Samara-Tartars, some five hundred bags of prime quality, and had at the +same time a similar quantity, which I purchased from a nobleman who was +in want of money, but such dreadful stuff it was, that if it had not +been for the very low price, I would never have thought of looking at +it. What did I do? I mixed these two cargoes, and sold the whole lot to +a brandy-contractor at Ribna, for prime quality.” + +“It was a clever speculation,” remarked the dark-haired. + +“A commercial trick!” added the grey-haired. + +‘Whilst this conversation was proceeding, Vassily Ivanovitsch and Ivan +Vassilievitsch had taken seats at a separate little table; they had +ordered their tea, and were listening to what the three merchants were +saying. + +‘A poor looking fellow came in and took from his breast-pocket an +incredibly dirty sheet of paper, in which were wrapped up bank-notes and +some gold, and handed it over to the grey-haired merchant, who, having +counted them over, said:’ + +“Five thousand, two hundred and seventeen roubles. Is it right?” + +“Quite right, Sir.” + +“It shall be delivered according to your wish.” + +‘Ivan asked why the sender had not taken a receipt? + +‘The red and dark-haired merchants burst out laughing; the grey-haired +got into a passion.’ + +“A receipt!” he cried out furiously, “a receipt! I would have broken his +jaw with his own money had he dared to ask me for a receipt. I have been +a merchant now more than fifty years, and I have never yet been insulted +by being asked to give a receipt.” + +“You see, Sir,” said the red-haired merchant, “it is only with noblemen +that such things as receipts and bills of exchange exist. We commercial +people do not make use of them. Our simple word suffices. We have no +time to spare for writing. For instance, Sir: here is Sidor +Avdeievitsch, who has millions of roubles in his trade, and his whole +writing consists of a few scraps of paper, for memory’s sake, Sir.” + +“I don’t understand that,” interrupted Ivan Vassilievitsch. + +“How could you, Sir? It is mere commercial business, without plan or +_façade_. We ourselves learn it from our childhood: first as +errand-boys, then as clerks, till we become partners in the business. I +confess it is hard work.” + +Upon this text Ivan preaches a ‘Young Russia discourse.’ + +“Allow me a few words,” he said with fervour. “It appears to me that we +have in Russia a great number of persons buying and selling, but yet, I +must say, we have no systematic commerce. For commerce, science and +learning are indispensable; a conflux of civilised men, clever +mathematical calculations—but not, as seems to be the case with you, +dependence upon mere chance. You earn millions, because you convert the +consumer into a victim, against whom every kind of cheat is pardonable, +and then you lay by farthing by farthing, refusing yourselves not only +all the enjoyments of life, but even the most necessary comforts.... You +brag of your threadbare clothes; but surely this extreme parsimony is a +thousand times more blameable than the opposite prodigality of those of +your comrades who spend their time amongst gipsies, and their money in +feasting. You boast of your ignorance, because you do not know what +civilisation is. Civilisation, according to your notions, consists in +shorter laps of a coat, foreign furniture, bronzes, and champagne—in a +word, in outward trifles and silly customs. Trust me, not such is +civilisation.... Unite yourselves! Be it your vocation to lay open all +the hidden riches of our great country; to diffuse life and vigour into +all its veins; to take the whole management of its material interests +into your hands. Unite your endeavours in this beautiful deed, and you +may be certain of success! Why should Russia be worse than England? +Comprehend only your calling; let the beam of civilisation fall upon +you, and your love for your fatherland will strengthen such a union; and +you will see that not only the whole of Russia, but even the whole world +will be in your hands.” + +‘At this eloquent conclusion, the red and the dark-haired merchants +opened wide their eyes. They, of course, did not understand a single +word of Ivan Vassilievitsch’s speech.’ + +“Alas, for Young Russia,” Ivan dolefully remarks in another place;— + +“I thought to study life in the provinces: there is no life in the +provinces: every one there is said to be of the same cut. Life in the +capitals is not a Russian life, but a weak imitation of the petty +perfections and gross vices of modern civilisation. Where am I then to +find Russia? In the lower classes, perhaps, in the every-day life of the +Russian peasant? But have I not been now for five days chiefly amongst +this class? I prick up my ears and listen; I open wide my eyes and look, +and do what I may, I find not the least trifle worth noting in my +‘_Impressions_.’ The country is dead; there is nothing but land, land, +land; so much land, indeed, that my eyes get tired of looking at it; a +dreadful road—waggons of goods, swearing carriers, drunken +stage-inspectors; beetles creeping on every wall; soups with the smell +of tallow-candles! How is it possible for any respectable person to +occupy himself with such nasty stuff? And what is yet more provoking, is +the doleful uniformity which tires you so much, and affords you no rest +whatever. Nothing new, nothing unexpected! To-morrow what has been +to-day; to-day what has been yesterday. Here, a post-stage, there again +a post-stage, and further the same post-stage again; here, a +village-elder asking for drink-money, and again to infinity +village-elders all asking for drink-money. What can I write? I begin to +agree with Vassily Ivanovitsch; he is right in saying that we do not +travel, and that there is no travelling in Russia. We simply are going +to Mordassy. Alas! for my ‘_Impressions_.’” + +Whoever wants to know more of this amusing Young Russian, must consult +“The _Tarantas_.” We can assure the reader that the book is fraught with +a store of amusement—chiefly descriptions of town and country life in +Russia—not often compressed into the modest and inexpensive compass of a +thin duodecimo. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES + + + ● Fixed typos; non-standard spelling and dialect retained. + ● Renumbered footnotes. + ● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. + ● The caret (^) is used to indicate superscript, whether applied to a + single character (as in 2^d) or to an entire expression (as in + 1^{st}). + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78176 *** diff --git a/78176-h/78176-h.htm b/78176-h/78176-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3e15a5c --- /dev/null +++ b/78176-h/78176-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3571 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> + <head> + <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title>Household Words, No. 11, June 8, 1850 | Project Gutenberg</title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + body { margin-left: 8%; margin-right: 10%; } + h1 { text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: xx-large; } + h2 { text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: x-large; } + h3 { text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: large; } + .pageno { right: 1%; font-size: x-small; background-color: inherit; color: silver; + text-indent: 0em; text-align: right; position: absolute; + border: thin solid silver; padding: .1em .2em; font-style: normal; + font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; } + p { text-indent: 0; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; text-align: justify; } + sup { vertical-align: top; font-size: 0.6em; } + .sc { font-variant: small-caps; } + .large { font-size: large; } + .xlarge { font-size: x-large; } + .lg-container-b { text-align: center; } + .x-ebookmaker .lg-container-b { clear: both; } + .linegroup { display: inline-block; text-align: justify; } + .x-ebookmaker .linegroup { display: block; margin-left: 1.5em; } + .linegroup .group { margin: 1em auto; } + .linegroup .line { text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em; } + div.linegroup > :first-child { margin-top: 0; } + .linegroup .in2 { padding-left: 4.0em; } + .ul_1 li {padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em; } + ul.ul_1 {padding-left: 0; margin-left: 2.78%; margin-top: .5em; + margin-bottom: .5em; list-style-type: disc; } + div.footnote > :first-child { margin-top: 1em; } + div.footnote p { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: 0.25em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + div.pbb { page-break-before: always; } + hr.pb { border: none; border-bottom: thin solid; margin-bottom: 1em; } + .x-ebookmaker hr.pb { display: none; } + .chapter { clear: both; page-break-before: always; } + .nf-center { text-align: center; } + .nf-center-c0 { text-align: justify; margin: 0.5em 0; } + .c000 { margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + .c001 { margin-top: 2em; } + .c002 { page-break-before: auto; margin-top: 4em; } + .c003 { page-break-before:auto; margin-top: 4em; } + .c004 { margin-top: 2em; text-indent: 1em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + .c005 { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: 0.25em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + .c006 { margin-top: 2em; font-size: .9em; } + .c007 { page-break-before: auto; margin-top: 2em; } + .c008 { margin-top: 1em; text-indent: 1em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + .c009 { page-break-before: always; margin-top: 2em; } + .c010 { font-size: 80%; } + .c011 { font-size: .9em; text-indent: 1em; margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + .c012 { font-size: .9em; } + .c013 { margin-top: 1em; font-size: .9em; } + .c014 { font-size: 120%; } + .c015 { text-decoration: none; } + .c016 { margin-top: 1em; } + .c017 { margin-top: 4em; } + div.tnotes { padding-left:1em;padding-right:1em;background-color:#E3E4FA; + border:thin solid silver; margin:2em 10% 0 10%; font-family: Georgia, serif; + clear: both; } + .covernote { visibility: hidden; display: none; } + div.tnotes p { text-align: justify; } + .x-ebookmaker .covernote { visibility: visible; display: block; } + h1 {line-height: 150%; } + .chapter { clear: both; page-break-before: always; } + body {font-family: Garamond, Georgia, serif; text-align: justify; } + table {font-size: .9em; padding: 1.5em .5em 1em; page-break-inside: avoid; + clear: both; } + div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; + page-break-after: always; } + div.titlepage p {text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; + line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 3em; } + .ph2 { text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; + page-break-before: always; } + .double {border-style: double;border-width: 4px; padding: 1em; clear: both; } + .x-ebookmaker p.dropcap:first-letter { float: left; } + </style> + </head> + <body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78176 ***</div> + +<div class='tnotes covernote'> + +<p class='c000'><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p> + +<p class='c000'>New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.</p> + +</div> + +<div class='double titlepage'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c001'> + <div>“<i>Familiar in their Mouths as HOUSEHOLD WORDS.</i>”—<span class='sc'>Shakespeare.</span></div> + </div> +</div> + +<div> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span> + <h1 class='c002'>HOUSEHOLD WORDS.<br> <span class='xlarge'>A WEEKLY JOURNAL.</span></h1> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c001'> + <div><span class='large'>CONDUCTED BY CHARLES DICKENS.</span></div> + <div class='c001'>N<sup>o.</sup> 11.]      SATURDAY, JUNE 8, 1850.      [<span class='sc'>Price</span> 2<i>d.</i></div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c003'>FROM THE RAVEN IN THE HAPPY FAMILY.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c004'>Halloa!</p> + +<p class='c005'>You <i>won’t</i> let me begin that Natural +History of you, eh? You <i>will</i> always be +doing something or other, to take off my +attention? Now, you have begun to argue +with the Undertakers, have you? What next!</p> + +<p class='c005'>Ugh! you are a nice set of fellows to be +discussing, at this time of day, whether you +shall countenance that humbug any longer. +“Performing” funerals, indeed! I have heard +of performing dogs and cats, performing goats +and monkeys, performing ponies, white-mice, +and canary-birds; but, performing drunkards +at so much a day, guzzling over your dead, +and throwing half of you into debt for a +twelvemonth, beats all I ever heard of. +Ha, ha!</p> + +<p class='c005'>The other day there was a person “went +and died” (as our Proprietor’s wife says) close +to our establishment. Upon my beak I +thought I should have fallen off my perch, +you made me laugh so, at the funeral!</p> + +<p class='c005'>Oh my crop and feathers, what a scene it +was! <i>I</i> never saw the Owl so charmed. It +was just the thing for him.</p> + +<p class='c005'>First of all, two dressed-up fellows came—trying +to look sober, but they couldn’t do it—and +stuck themselves outside the door. There +they stood, for hours, with a couple of crutches +covered over with drapery: cutting their +jokes on the company as they went in, and +breathing such strong rum and water into our +establishment over the way, that the Guinea +Pig (who has a poor little head) was drunk +in ten minutes. You are so proud of your +humanity. Ha, ha! As if a pair of respectable +crows wouldn’t have done it much better?</p> + +<p class='c005'>By-and-bye, there came a hearse and four, +and then two carriages and four; and on the +tops of ’em, and on all the horses’ heads, were +plumes of feathers, hired at so much per +plume; and everything, horses and all, was +covered over with black velvet, till you +couldn’t see it. Because there were not +feathers enough yet, there was a fellow in the +procession carrying a board of ’em on his +head, like Italian images; and there were +about five-and-twenty or thirty other fellows +(all hot and red in the face with eating and +drinking) dressed up in scarves and hatbands, +and carrying—shut-up fishing-rods, I +believe—who went draggling through the +mud, in a manner that I thought would be +the death of me; while the “Black Jobmaster”—that’s +what he calls himself—who +had let the coaches and horses to a furnishing +undertaker, who had let ’em to a haberdasher, +who had let ’em to a carpenter, who had let +’em to the parish-clerk, who had let ’em to +the sexton, who had let ’em to the plumber +painter and glazier, who had got the funeral +to do, looked out of the public-house window +at the corner, with his pipe in his mouth, and +said—for I heard him—“that was the sort of +turn-out to do a gen-teel party credit.” That! +As if any two-and-sixpenny masquerade, +tumbled into a vat of blacking, wouldn’t be +quite as solemn, and immeasurably cheaper!</p> + +<p class='c005'>Do you think I don’t know you? You’re +mistaken if you think so. But perhaps you +do. Well! Shall I tell you what I know? +Can you bear it? Here it is then. The +Black Jobmaster is right. The root of all +this, is the gen-teel party.</p> + +<p class='c005'>You don’t mean to deny it, I hope? You +don’t mean to tell me that this nonsensical +mockery isn’t owing to your gentility. Don’t +I know a Raven in a Cathedral Tower, who +has often heard your service for the Dead? +Don’t I know that you almost begin it with +the words, “We brought nothing into this +world, and it is certain that we can carry +nothing out”? Don’t I know that in a monstrous +satire on those words, you carry your +hired velvets, and feathers, and scarves, and all +the rest of it, to the edge of the grave, and get +plundered (and serve you right!) in every +article, because you WILL be gen-teel parties +to the last?</p> + +<p class='c005'>Eh? Think a little! Here’s the plumber +painter and glazier come to take the funeral +order which he is going to give to the sexton, +who is going to give it to the clerk, who is +going to give it to the carpenter, who is going +to give it to the haberdasher, who is going to +give it to the furnishing undertaker, who is +going to divide it with the Black Jobmaster. +“Hearse and four, Sir?” says he. “No, a +pair will be sufficient.” “I beg your pardon, +Sir, but when we buried Mr. Grundy at +number twenty, there was four on ’em, Sir; +I think it right to mention it.” “Well, perhaps +there had better be four.” “Thank +you, Sir. Two coaches and four, Sir, shall +<span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span>we say?” “No. Coaches and pair.” “You’ll +excuse my mentioning it, Sir, but pairs to the +coaches, and four to the hearse, would have a +singular appearance to the neighbours. When +we put four to anything, we always carry four +right through.” “Well! say four!” “Thank +you, Sir. Feathers of course?” “No. No +feathers. They’re absurd.” “Very good, +Sir. <i>No</i> feathers?” “No.” “<i>Very</i> good, +Sir. We <i>can</i> do fours without feathers, Sir, +but it’s what we never do. When we buried +Mr. Grundy, there was feathers, and—I only +throw it out, Sir—Mrs. Grundy might think +it strange.” “Very well! Feathers!” “Thank +you, Sir,”—and so on.</p> + +<p class='c005'><i>Is</i> it and so on, or not, through the whole +black job of jobs, because of Mrs. Grundy and +the gen-teel party?</p> + +<p class='c005'>I suppose you’ve thought about this? I +suppose you’ve reflected on what you’re +doing, and what you’ve done? When you +read about those poisonings for the burial +society money, you consider how it is that +burial societies ever came to be, at all? You +perfectly understand—you who are not the +poor, and ought to set ’em an example—that, +besides making the whole thing costly, you’ve +confused their minds about this burying, and +have taught ’em to confound expence and show, +with respect and affection. You know all +you’ve got to answer for, you gen-teel parties? +I’m glad of it.</p> + +<p class='c005'>I believe it’s only the monkeys who are +servile imitators, is it? You reflect! To be +sure you do. So does Mrs. Grundy—and +she casts reflections—don’t she?</p> + +<p class='c005'>What animals are those who scratch +shallow holes in the ground in crowded +places, scarcely hide their dead in ’em, and +become unnaturally infected by their dead, +and die by thousands? Vultures, I suppose. +I think you call the Vulture an obscene bird? +I don’t consider him agreeable, but I never +caught him misconducting himself in that way.</p> + +<p class='c005'>My honourable friend, the dog—I call him +my honourable friend in your Parliamentary +sense, because I hate him—turns round three +times before he goes to sleep. I ask him +why? He says he don’t know; but he always +does it. Do <i>you</i> know how you ever came to +have that board of feathers carried on a +fellow’s head? Come. You’re a boastful +race. Show yourselves superior to the dog, +and tell me!</p> + +<p class='c005'>Now, I don’t love many people; but I do +love the undertakers. I except them from the +censure I pass upon you in general. They +know you so well, that I look upon ’em as a +sort of Ravens. They are so certain of your +being gen-teel parties, that they stick at nothing. +They are sure they’ve got the upper +hand of you. Our proprietor was reading +the paper, only last night, and there was an +advertisement in it from a sensitive and +libelled undertaker, to wit, that the allegation +“that funerals were unnecessarily expensive, +was an insult to his professional brethren.” +Ha! ha! Why he knows he has you on the +hip. It’s nothing to him that their being +unnecessarily expensive is a fact within the +experience of all of you as glaring as the sun +when there’s not a cloud. He is certain that +when you want a funeral “performed,” he has +only to be down upon you with Mrs. Grundy, +to do what he likes with you—and then he’ll +go home, and laugh like a Hyæna.</p> + +<p class='c005'>I declare (supposing I wasn’t detained +against my will by our proprietor) that, if I +had any arms, I’d take the undertakers to +’em! There’s another, in the same paper, +who says they’re libelled, in the accusation of +having disgracefully disturbed the meeting in +favour of what you call your General Interment +Bill. Our establishment was in the +Strand, that night. There was no crowd of +undertakers’ men there, with circulars in +their pockets, calling on ’em to come in +coloured clothes to make an uproar; it wasn’t +undertakers’ men who got in with forged +orders to yell and screech; it wasn’t undertakers’ +men who made a brutal charge at +the platform, and overturned the ladies like a +troop of horse. Of course not. <i>I</i> know +all about it.</p> + +<p class='c005'>But—and lay this well to heart, you Lords +of the creation, as you call yourselves!—it <i>is</i> +these undertakers’ men to whom, in the last +trying, bitter grief of life, you confide the +loved and honoured forms of your sisters, +mothers, daughters, wives. It <i>is</i> to these +delicate gentry, and to their solemn remarks, +and decorous behaviour, that you entrust the +sacred ashes of all that has been the purest to +you, and the dearest to you, in this world. +Don’t improve the breed! Don’t change the +custom! Be true to my opinion of you, and to +Mrs. Grundy!</p> + +<p class='c005'>I nail the black flag of the black Jobmaster +to our cage—figuratively speaking—and I +stand up for the gen-teel parties. So (but from +different motives) does the Owl. You’ve got +a chance, by means of that bill I’ve mentioned—by +the bye, I call my own a General Interment +Bill, for it buries everything it gets hold +of—to alter the whole system; to avail yourselves +of the results of all improved European +experience; to separate death from life; to +surround it with everything that is sacred and +solemn, and to dissever it from everything +that is shocking and sordid. You won’t read +the bill? You won’t dream of helping it? You +won’t think of looking at the evidence on which +it’s founded—Will you? No. That’s right!</p> + +<p class='c005'>Gen-teel parties, step forward, if you please, +to the rescue of the black Jobmaster! The +rats are with you. I am informed that they +have unanimously passed a resolution that the +closing of the London churchyards will be an +insult to their professional brethren, and will +oblige ’em “to fight for it.” The Parrots are +with you. The Owl is with you. The Raven +is with you. No General Interments. Carrion +for ever!</p> + +<p class='c005'>Ha, ha! Halloa!</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span> + <h2 class='c003'>HOW WE WENT FISHING IN CANADA.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c004'>There were three of us. Our purpose was +fishing, in Canadian fashion, <i>under</i> the ice, +and our destination was the township of New +Ireland, distant about seventy miles from our +starting point, Quebec, and situated about midway +between the St. Lawrence and the American +line. Our conveyance was a stout, +commodious, yet light, and not inelegant sleigh, +with seats for four, and plentifully supplied +with buffalo robes, which are dressed so as to be +as soft as blankets—useful in a temperature of +twenty degrees below Zero, and ornamental +from their fringes, which were garnished with +various devices, all of which had some reference +to the wild denizens of the forest. +Under each seat was a box, which we stowed +with a goodly supply of creature comforts +and a few books, thus prudently making provision +against the contingencies of privation +and <i>ennui</i>. Our locomotive power consisted +of two small but very spirited horses, which +were neatly harnessed, with a string of +merry sleigh bells dangling from the girths +of each.</p> + +<p class='c005'>In this comfortable condition we in due +time arrived at “Richardson’s,” one of the +most celebrated hostelries in the seignory +of St. Giles.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Here we put up for the night, tempted to +do so by the superiority of the accommodation, +especially as we had but an easy day’s +journey before us for the morrow. During +the morning it was so intensely cold that our +breath formed thick crusts of ice on the shawls +which we had round our necks, whilst the +bushy whiskers of our companion Perroque +were pendant with tiny icicles. As our +horses warmed, almost every hair on their +backs formed the nucleus of a separate +icicle, which, by-and-bye, made them all stand +erect, and caused the animals to look more +like porcupines than horses. About midday +it began to moderate, and by nightfall +the temperature had risen considerably. +The wind had by this time set in, with a steady +current from the east. This, with the change +of temperature, made us somewhat uneasy as +to the weather; but our hopes rose when we +found that it was yet a brilliant starlight +about 10 o’clock, when we retired to rest. +But even then the coming tempest was not +far off; and in about two hours afterwards +the wind was howling fearfully about the +house, which it shook to its very foundations, +whilst the driving snow pattered against the +windows as if clouds of steel filings had been +driven against them. I was soon soothed to +sleep by the wild lullaby of the winter night, and +did not awake again until eight in the morning, +when I was called by a servant, who entered +my room with a lighted candle in her hand. +I should otherwise have been in darkness, for +the snow had, over night, completely blocked +up my window. My room was on the ground-floor, +and looked to the east. Against that +side of the house, the snow had been piled by +the wind in an enormous wreath, which partly +encroached upon the windows of the floor +above. Blungle, my other friend, who had +recently arrived from the region of Russell +Square, London, slept in a room contiguous to +mine, but he refused to get up, declaring that +although it was still the middle of the night, he +was too wide awake to be humbugged. It was +not until breakfast was sent in to him, and +he found by the state of his appetite that +it must have been several hours since he had +supped, that he condescended to examine his +window, which discovered to him the true +state of the case.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The wind was still high, and although the +snow had ceased to fall, the tempest abated +nothing of its fury. The dry snow was driven +like light sand before the blast, until the air +was thick with it. Neither man nor beast +was astir, every living thing taking shelter +from the storm. By-and-bye, the heavy pall +overhead began to rend, and a few faint +gleams of sunshine would occasionally light +up the wild turmoil and confusion that raged +below. About ten o’clock, the clouds were +rolled away, and the sun shone steadily +out. For a full hour afterwards the wind +maintained its strength, but by noon had +so far abated, that the drift had almost +ceased.</p> + +<p class='c005'>But, by this time, the roads had become +utterly impracticable. They were, indeed, +obliterated; the snow lying, in some places, +lightly upon them; and in others, forming +huge swelling wreaths, either across or along +them. We were eager to go forward, but +were dissuaded by our host from attempting +it, till the afternoon, when the road might be +at least practicable. On such occasions the +law requires the owners of land to “break +the roads” passing through or by their +respective properties; and by two o’clock +every sleigh in St. Giles’s was out for the +purpose. As soon as a track was opened, we +prepared to start. The road for the first +quarter of a mile had been well sheltered; +and as the evergreens were still standing, +there was but little difficulty in keeping the +old track, which afforded a firm footing for +the horses. But beyond that the evergreens +had been prostrated and buried in the snow; +and it was evident that our pioneers had +floundered in the midst of difficulties. Such +was presently our own fate, our horses having +plunged into the soft snow, where it was fully +six feet deep, from which we had with no +little difficulty and labour to dig them out. +This quenched our enthusiasm, and we returned +to the inn, where we remained for another +night.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Next morning we were enabled to proceed, +though but slowly, on our way. Leaving +St. Giles’s, we entered St. Sylvestre, the last, on +this road, of the belt of French seignories lying +between the St. Lawrence and the “Townships.” +<span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span>It is almost exclusively inhabited by +British settlers. In the townships, Frenchmen +are as rare as negroes in Siberia. The +first township we came to was that of Leeds; +on entering which we found a great change in +the whole aspect of the country. From being +flat and monotonous it became suddenly varied +and undulating, and appeared to consist of a +succession of rather lofty ridges, with broad +belts of fertile table land at their summit. On +gaining the top of the first, we turned to enjoy +the prospect which lay behind us. It was +really magnificent. The air was so clear and +crisp, that almost every object embraced within +the distant horizon had a distinct form and +outline. The level tract over which we had +passed lay extended beneath our feet, stretching +for about forty miles to the St. Lawrence. +In appearance it was as variegated as a +carpet,—the white patches of every shape +and size with which it was interspersed +indicating the clearances amongst the dark +brown woods. The bold and precipitous banks +of the St. Lawrence could be traced for miles, +whilst here and there the stream itself was +visible. The distant city, on its rocky promontory, +came out in fine relief against the +sky, its tin covered spires glistening in the +sunshine like silver pinnacles. A little to the +right, the outline of the chain of hills lying +behind it, although they were fully sixty miles +distant from us, was distinctly visible in the +far-off heavens.</p> + +<p class='c005'>On quitting Leeds, our way led chiefly +through the woods, the clearances being now +the rare exception.</p> + +<p class='c005'>At length we reached the district, or “township,” +of New Ireland, which having been +settled by immigrants from Maine and New +Hampshire, more than forty years ago, is +now reckoned one of the wealthiest and most +prosperous parts of the country. To one of +its well-to-do farmers we had introductions, +and took up our quarters. His large and +spacious house was built upon a high bank, +overlooking one of the smaller lakes, from +which our sport was to be derived, because +it afforded one of the best fishing grounds in +the neighbourhood. Shortly after breakfast +(the buck-wheat cakes and pumpkin pie were +beyond praise), we prepared for a day’s sport. +Our tackle would appear rather odd to +English sportsmen: our lines consisted of +strong hempen cords, of which we provided +ourselves with about a dozen. To each were +attached two very large hooks, dressed upon +thin whip-cord. We had likewise three axes, +and as many chisels of the largest size, attached +to handles about six feet long. In addition to +these we had a shovel and a broad hoe. They +were all stowed into a large hand sleigh, +which was dragged to the fishing ground by a +servant.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The lake was about three miles long and +half-a-mile wide. It lay in a beautiful valley, +embossed in the deep and sombre pine woods, +which covered the lower grounds. It was one +of a series, some of which were smaller and +others much larger than itself. For fully five +months in the year the surface of each is frozen +to the depth of several feet. We started +off to skate to the upper end, which was two-and-a-half +miles distant. My friend Blungle, +not an accomplished skater, made so very +false a start, that he was speedily noticed +spinning round rapidly on the ice on a pivot, +of which his heels and his head formed opposite +angles—precisely like a rotatory letter V. +Perroque, our French comforter and guide +is a perfect Perrot in skates, and performed +the most graceful evolutions around our prostrate +friend, in a manner that produced a +pretty and highly diverting tableau. At +last, however, he managed to “feel his feet” +better, and we all soon afterwards reached +the fishing ground.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The spot selected was close to the head of +the lake, where the stream flowing from that +immediately above, fell into it. Here the +fish are generally attracted by the greater +quantity of food there deposited by the +stream. In winter they have additional +inducements, owing to the greater warmth +of the water from the number of springs in +the neighbourhood, and to the greater abundance +of light which they enjoy through the +ice which is here comparatively thin. Indeed, +over some of the springs no ice forms during +the coldest seasons. Our first care was to +make at least half-a-dozen holes in the ice. +This sportsman-like operation we commenced +with our axes, making each hole about three +feet in diameter. When we got down about +a foot or so the axes became useless to us, +and we had to resort to our chisels, with +which we speedily progressed; clearing the +holes of the broken ice with the shovel first +and afterwards with the hoe. We were not +long at work, before we found the utility of +the long handles of both hoe and chisels, the +ice which we had to perforate being fully +three feet thick. There is a legend in the +neighbourhood, of an Irishman, who, having +forgotten his chisel, very wisely got into the +hole which he was cutting, that he might use +his axe with better effect; he, of course, kept +going down as the hole got deeper and deeper, +until, at last, he went down altogether, and, +according to the report, made food for the +fish he intended to capture.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Things being thus prepared, we baited our +hooks with pieces of fat pork, and dropped +them into the water—the lines being set in +each hole—the other end of each line was +attached to the middle of a stick, about six +feet in length, so placed, that it could not +be dragged into the hole. These we left +lying upon the ice, some distance from the +holes, so as to give us warning of a bite, and +the fish an opportunity of running a little +when hooked. The contemplative angler of +the Waltonian School has no chance here, +for he would be inevitably frozen to an +icicle before he obtained so much as a bite. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span>For amusement as well as for warmth, therefore, +we skated in the immediate vicinity of +our lines, of which we seldom lost sight. The +fish, which is a species of pike, and attains a +large size, sometimes weighing upwards of +thirty pounds, are soon attracted to the spot +by the columns of light descending through +the apertures in the ice. It is seldom, therefore, +that the angler has to remain long in +suspense ere some token is afforded him that +his labour is not likely to be in vain. A few +minutes after the casting of the nets, I happened +to approach the hole in which mine +were set, and was looking inquisitively into its +leaden depths, eager, if possible, to catch a +glimpse of what was going on underneath, +when suddenly the stick to which one of the +lines was attached, was dragged towards the +aperture with great velocity, and catching me +by the heels, turned poor Blungle’s laugh +completely against me; for it laid me at once +upon my back, with my legs spanning the +hole. I should certainly have gone with it, +but that the stick, when the fish came to the +end of his run, lay firmly across it, and kept +me up. Having risen, I thought it my time, +and began to pull at the line. From the +power with which I had to contend, however, +I found it necessary to have a better foundation +than my skates afforded me; so getting +upon my knees, I soon brought my captive to +light, and deposited him upon the ice. He +was a splendid fish, weighing upwards of +twenty pounds, and floundered prodigiously +for a few minutes. The frost, however, soon +tranquilised him, and in about a quarter-of-an-hour +he was as hard and brittle as an +icicle.</p> + +<p class='c005'>We continued our sport for some time with +tolerable success, having, by three o’clock, +caught eleven fish, the smallest of which +weighed eight pounds. But our pleasures were +brought to an untimely period by Blungle, +whose ill luck had now passed into a proverb +amongst us. Hitherto no fish had favoured +his line with so much as the passing compliment +of a nibble. He had given up the attempt, +and for nearly two hours had been +amusing himself by skating up and down the +lake. Practice had improved him, and like +all beginners, he was proud of his prowess, +and was particularly anxious to redeem his +lost character for skating by one extraordinary +achievement. He had been warned to give +what a nautical friend of our host called a +“wide berth” to the mouth of the stream +which ran into the lake. Bold in the strength +of his newly acquired skill, he neglected this +advice, and about three o’clock shot rapidly +past us in the direction of the stream. In +less than a minute there was a loud agonising +cry for help.</p> + +<p class='c005'>We looked round. Every vestige of Blungle +was invisible, except his head, and that +was seen just above the ice, his body being +immersed in water. He had ventured too +far, and the ice had given way with him. +Mirth instantly was changed to the acutest +apprehension. In that part, the ice was so +weak, that he might have broken it by pressing +his arms against it. But this he could not +do; for although his toes touched ground, he +happened to be standing on the tail of a small +bank, off which the water rapidly deepened +in one direction. For a moment or two we +were perplexed what to do, when it occurred +to us that we might turn the hand sleigh to +account. Having tied the three chisels with +their long handles, firmly together, we tied +the long pole thus furnished, to the sleigh, +and pushed it towards him; Perroque putting +a large piece of pork upon the sleigh, that he +might bite at it. He hesitated for some time +to relinquish his secure foothold; but at +length, seeing that it was his only chance, +and being terrified by a great fish which came +up and stared him hungrily in the face, he +seized the sleigh, which we then pulled towards +us, and got safely to land. It crushed +and broke the weak ice, but rose upon +that which was stronger, dragging Blungle +with it.</p> + +<p class='c005'>For some time he lay where we landed him, +and would soon have been as stiff as the fish, +had we not raised him to his feet, when he +immediately started for the house. We followed +him as soon as we could, dragging our +tackle, implements, and spoils along with us, +and were not long in overtaking him; for +before he had got half-way down the lake, his +clothes had become quite stiff, and he looked +like a man in a cracked glass case. On reaching +the house, it was with difficulty we undressed +him and put him to bed; when by +dint of warmth without, and brandy administered +within, we gradually thawed him. He +did not afterwards join our fishing; but confined +himself to improving his skill in skating +in the centre of the lake.</p> + +<p class='c005'>We remained altogether four days, by +which time we had caught as many fish as we +had room for in our sleigh. We then bade +adieu to our kind host and his family, and +after a pleasant journey, arrived towards the +evening of the second day, at Quebec. The +fish, which were still frozen and in excellent +condition, we distributed in presents to our +friends.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c003'>A WISH.</h2> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c006'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>Oh, that I were the Spirit of a Plant,</div> + <div class='line'>Rear’d in Imagination’s evergreen world,—</div> + <div class='line'>To lift my head above the meadow grass,</div> + <div class='line'>And strike my roots, far-spread and intervolved,</div> + <div class='line'>Deep as the Central Heart, wherefrom to taste</div> + <div class='line'>The springs of infinite being! From that source</div> + <div class='line'>What pregnant fermentations would arise;</div> + <div class='line'>What blossom, fruit, perfume, and influence;</div> + <div class='line'>To purify mankind’s destructive blood,—</div> + <div class='line'>So full of life and elevating powers—</div> + <div class='line'>So cloy’d and clogg’d for exercise of good.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span> + <h2 class='c003'>THE BLACK DIAMONDS OF ENGLAND.</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c007'>CHAPTER I.—THE DIAMONDS.</h3> + +<p class='c008'>The history and adventures of the ‘great +diamonds’ of Eastern, Northern, Southern, +and Western potentates, have been often +chronicled; their several values have been +estimated at hundreds of thousands, and at +millions; but not a syllable has ever been +breathed of their utility. The reason is +tolerably obvious; these magnificent diamonds +are of <i>no</i> practical use at all, being +purely ornamental luxuries. Now, it has +occurred to us that the diamonds indigenous +to England, are the converse of these brilliant +usurpers of the chief fame of the nether earth +(to say nothing of the vain-glories on the +upper surface) being black, instead of prismatic +white—opaque, instead of transpicuous; +and in place of deriving a fictitious and fluctuating +value from scarcity and ornamental +beauty, deriving their value from the realities +of their surpassing utility and great abundance. +They certainly make no very striking +figure in the ball-room dress of prince or +princess; but it is their destiny and office to +carry comfort to the poor man’s home, as well +as to the mansion of the rich; they are not +to be looked upon as treasures of beauty, they +are to be shovelled out and burnt; they are +not the bright emblems of no change, and no +activity, but like heralds, sent from the depths +of night, where Nature works her secret +wonders, to advance those sciences and industrial +arts which are equally the consequence +and the re-acting cause of the progress of +humanity.</p> + +<p class='c005'>In the reign of King Edward the First of +England, a new fuel was brought to London, +much to his subjects’ objection and the perplexity +of his majesty. Listen to the history—not +of the king, but of the great event of +his time which few historians mention.</p> + +<p class='c005'>If chemical nature beneath the earth be +accounted very slow, human nature above +ground is comparatively slower,—and without +the same reason for it. The transmutations +beneath the earth require centuries for their +accomplishment, and of necessity;—the proper +use of new and valuable discoveries on the +surface, is a matter of human understanding +and rational will. In the former case, the +thing is not perfect without its number of +centuries; in the latter, the thing has very +seldom been acknowledged without great +lapse and loss of time, because mankind will +<i>not</i> be made more comfortable and happy +without a long fight against the innovation. +Wherefore coals, the most excellent material +of fuel,—for cooking, for works of industry +and skill, for trades and arts, and the cutting +short of long journeys,—have only been in +use during the last three centuries.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The first mention of coals, as a fuel, occurs +in a charter of Henry the Third, granting +licenses to the burgesses of Newcastle to dig +for coals; and in 1281, this city had created, +out of these diggings, a pretty good trade.</p> + +<p class='c005'>In the beginning of the fourteenth century, +coals were first sent from Newcastle to London, +by way of a little experiment on the minds of +the blacksmiths and brewers, and a few other +trades needing fuel; but for no other purposes. +So the good black smoke rose from +a score or two of favoured chimneys.</p> + +<p class='c005'>As one man, all London instantly rose up +against it, and was exceeding wroth. Whereof, +in 1316, came a petition from Parliament to +the king, praying his Majesty,—if he had any +love for a fair garden, a clean face, yea, or a +clean shirt and ruff,—and if he did not wish his +subjects to be choked, or, at the very best, to +be smoked into bad hams,—to forbid all use of +the new and pestilent fuel called “coals.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>So the king, seeing the good sense and +reasonableness of the request, forthwith +issued a Proclamation, commanding all use of +the dangerous nuisance of coals to cease from +that day henceforth.</p> + +<p class='c005'>But the blacksmiths and brewers took +counsel together, and they were joined by +several other trades, who had found great +advantage in the use of coals; and they resolved +to continue the same, as secretly as +might be—forgetting all about the smoke, +or innocently trusting that it would not again +betray them.</p> + +<p class='c005'>No sooner, however, did the black smoke +begin to rise and curl above the chimneys, +than it was actually seen by many eyes!—and +away ran the people bawling to Parliament; +and more petitions were sent; and +his Majesty, being now very angry, ordered all +these refractory coal-burning smiths, brewers, +and other injurious rogues to be heavily fined, +and their fire-places and furnaces cast down +and utterly demolished.</p> + +<p class='c005'>All this was accordingly done. Still, it was +done to no purpose; for so very excellent was +the result to the different trades of those who +had smuggled and used the prohibited fuel, +that use it by some means they would, let +happen what might. More chimneys than +ever now sent up black curling clouds, and +more fire-places and furnaces were destroyed; +and so they went on.</p> + +<p class='c005'>At length it was wisely discovered that +nobody had been choked, poisoned, “cured” +into a bad ham, or otherwise injured and +transformed. Now, then, of course, it was +reasonable to expect, as the advantages were +proved to be so great and numerous, the +injuries trivial, and the dangers nothing, the +use of coal would become pretty general, +without more prohibition, contest, or question.</p> + +<p class='c005'>No, indeed; this is not the way the world +goes on. Social benefits are not to be forced +upon worthy people at this rate. Centuries +must elapse—even as we find with the growth +of metals and minerals beneath the earth. +In the latter case, it is a necessary condition; +in the former, it is made one.</p> + +<p class='c005'><span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span>The many good services and value of coals +being now ascertained, as well as their harmlessness +(except that they certainly did give +a bad colour to all the public edifices and +great houses), and the progressive increase of +many luxuries of life, together with their +advantages to numerous trades besides those +of the wisely-valiant and not-to-be-denied +blacksmiths and brewers who first adopted +and persisted in using them, every facility +for their importation into London was +naturally expected by the citizens of that +highly-favoured place. Innocent human nature! +vain hopes of children, who always +expect reason from those who preach it! +For now, various lets and hindrances were +cunningly devised, in the shape of taxes and +duties, so as to check the facilities of interchange +between London and Newcastle. +So, the new fuel—the product of the mine +destined one day to become the Black +Diamonds of England—had to struggle for +its freedom through a succession of “wise and +happy reigns.”</p> + +<h3 class='c009'>CHAPTER II.<br> <span class='c010'>THE EMANCIPATION OF THE DIAMOND.</span></h3> + +<p class='c008'>Before a cargo of coals could be discharged +from a collier, it was necessary to get the +permission of the Lord Mayor to land them. +And how was this to be obtained? By what +sort of dulcet persuasion, we are left in no +difficulty to conjecture; but as to the amount +of the sum, a modest official veil of darkness +enshrouds the record. The perquisites, however, +granted to the aldermen, are fortunately +within reach of knowledge; and accordingly +we find it set down that the corporation were +empowered to measure and weigh coals, either +in person, and in their gowns, or by proxy, if +they preferred that course, and to charge the +sum of 8<i>d.</i> per ton for their labour. This +was confirmed by a charter in 1613. By this +tax the City made some 50,000<i>l.</i> a year, and +rejoiced exceedingly.</p> + +<p class='c005'>This system of protection, under several +forms and pleasant variations, long continued, +and was extended all over England, +the pressure falling most unequally, to the +injury of the least wealthy and the poor, +according to the immemorial custom of +Governments. Some of the people of London +were audacious enough to complain that they +did not need to be protected from the Newcastle +coals, but all on the contrary, would +give any fair sum to obtain them; and that, +indeed, what they really needed was to be protected +from the Lord Mayor and Corporation, +and other taxes and duties. But these people +were reproved as ignorant and froward, and +told that they understood nothing at all:—what +they had to do, was simply—to pay, +first for the protection, and then for the +coals. So they paid. But the importance of +the article being found to exceed even the +greediness of the impost, the use of coals +became general during the reign of Charles +the First; the same, with other taxes, being +demanded, from the reign of William the +Third downwards.</p> + +<p class='c005'>In 1830, and not before, the heaviest of +the above duties were abolished; those, however, +which were collected from the Londoners +being excepted—for their old impertinence—together +with two or three sea-ports, who had +also spoken.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Who shall repress a truth? Coals were +excellent good things—there was no reason +in denying it. But any foolish people, and +there will always be more than enough found +to do it, <i>can</i> repress a truth for an abominably +long period, denying it without reason, yet +very effectually. Or, when they admit it, +then comes the tax and penalty to be paid for +the fact. Thus was the free introduction and +use of coals repressed throughout England +until 1830; from which date, its grand rise +from the bowels of the earth into a new and +most extensive importance may be dated.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Yet, as extremes meet, and as human +nature delights in opposites, if only by way +of reaction or relaxation, so the long-continued +obstinate slowness of past ages bids fair, +in our own day, to enter upon an extreme +change to flighty prematurities, and the over-leaping +of all intermediate and necessary knowledge. +But the reign of the fast-ones is now +approaching its height; which having once +reached, it will then have a rapid decline into +contempt, and so give place to regular and +steady advances upon solid ground.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Still, we are not to infer from the present +flourishing state of things, that the great +black-diamond millionaires are very numerous, +or that fortunes are readily accumulated in +the trade. Coal mines are hazardous speculations: +costly is the sinking of shafts—precarious +the lives of men and property +from constant dangers of explosion or inundation; +whereof it comes that no Insurance +Office will guarantee such property against +these or any other accidents. True may it be +that the large coal owners on the Tyne and +the Wear rejoice in a sort of monopoly; +as do other owners; but herein shall we +not find the cause of coals being sold in +London at nearly three times the price they +cost at the pit’s mouth. The cause is to be +sought in the expenses of transit (which, +alone, are often equal to, and not unfrequently +exceed, the cost price); in the loss of screening; +the expenses of lighters and lightermen +wharfs, officers, and wharfingers, coal-heavers, +carmen, horses, waggons, sacks—to say nothing +of long credit, or bad debts;—and the profits of +the various middle-men, among the most +numerous of whom are the brass-plate coal +merchants (whose establishments simply consist +of an order-book, wherein it appeareth +that they get a little more than they give); +and the retailers of various gradations.</p> + +<p class='c005'>All these difficulties, and all these reductions +and dues, notwithstanding, and in spite +of,—the coal trade has risen during the last +twenty years to a magnitude in quantity and +<span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>influence which may be regarded as one of +the greatest commercial triumphs of this our +England.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The coal-fields of the United States of +America are upwards of fourteen times larger +extent than ours; yet, in 1845, while the +American coal mines produced 4,400,000 of +tons, the coal mines of England produced +upwards of 32,000,000 of tons. In the same +year, our production of iron was more than +four times the American amount. Moreover,—and +here may the gravest historian exalt +his pen, and yet be accounted no flourisher,—we +have for some years past been able to +supply coals to all the great powers of the +globe. In 1842, England exported 60,000 tons +of coals to the United States of America; +88,000 tons to Russia; 111,000 tons to Prussia; +515,900 tons to France;—not to speak of the +hundreds of thousands of tons exported in the +same year to Germany collectively, to Holland, +to Denmark, Sweden, the East Indies and +China, &c., &c.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The use of coals has now extended, not +only over the civilised world, but in its potent +form of steam has reached most of the remoter +regions. From Suez to Singapore are +steam vessels already in course of passage, and +the line will soon be carried to Australia. +When the American locomotives have made +their way to the shores of the Pacific, their +vessels will be ready to carry onward the +traffic to China and the Indian Islands from +the east; “and thus,” as writes a learned +critic, discoursing of the virtues of steam-coal, +“complete the circuit of the globe.” +Whereby, “a steam voyage round the world +will in a few years, be so practicable, that the +merchant and tourist may make the circuit +within a year, and yet have time enough to +see and learn much at many of the principal +‘stations’ on his way.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>All rightful honour, then, to these priceless +Diamonds—whether they be black spirits or +furnace-white, flame-red spirits, or ashy-grey—whether +cannel coal and caking coal—cherry +coal and stone coal—whether any of +the forty kinds of Newcastle coal, or any of +the seventy species of the great family, from +the highest class of the bituminous, down to +the one degree above old coke.</p> + +<h3 class='c009'>CHAPTER III.—THE COAL EXCHANGE.</h3> + +<p class='c008'>Near to the Custom House rises one of the +most ornate edifices in the metropolis,—the +Coal Exchange of London,—in which is carried +on one of our most stupendous trades.</p> + +<p class='c005'>It is Wednesday—a market day—we ascend +the steps of a beautiful sort of round tower, +and pass through the folding swing-doors of +the principal entrance. The space here, or +little vestibule, forms the base of the centre +of a well-staircase of iron. You look up, +through the coiling balustrades as they climb +up to the top, and at the very top you see a +painting in the Rubens style of colouring, +(though a long way <i>after</i> Rubens in other +respects,) of the figure of a prodigal lady, who +is upsetting a cornucopia, full—<i>not</i> of coals—but +of all the most richly coloured fruits of +Italy and the East, which seem about to +descend straight through the centre of the +well-staircase, and shower down upon your +wondering and expectant head. Cupids—or, +at least, little chubby boys, tumbling in the air—are +also in attendance on this theatrical +Goddess of Abundance.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Passing from this entrance into the grand +central market, you find yourself in a circular +area boarded with oak planks of a light and +dark hue, arranged in a kind of mosaic of +long angles, which converge to a centre piece, +wherein a great anchor is inlaid. Beside +this, there is a wooden dagger, to the blade +of which a legend of no interest is attached. +Three ranges of cast-iron galleries rise all +round, terminating above in a large glass +dome, with an orange-coloured centre of +stained glass. Around the floor of the area, +at due intervals, long desks of new polished +oak, with inkstands let into the wood, stand +invitingly ready for the transaction of business. +The City Arms, on a series of small shields, +is the simple adornment of the outer balustrade-work +of the three galleries,—except, +also, that these galleries often have many +lady-visitors who lean over and contemplate +the ‘dark doings’ of the busy black-diamond +merchants who congregate below.</p> + +<p class='c005'>But let it not be supposed that the ornaments +of the Coal Exchange of London are +confined to the City Arms, or even the beauty +of the lady-visitors. Private offices, and +recesses for business, having the most neat, +orderly appearance, even to a primness and +propriety worthy of the Society of Friends, +are observable round the area, beneath the +galleries; but the panels of the woodwork +that separate these offices, rejoice in the most +lively adornments, <i><span lang="fr">à la Jullien</span></i>. They are +covered with emblematic, fanciful, and not +very characteristic pictures and designs, all in +the brightest hues; and, being painted on a +light ground, they have a look of gaiety and +airiness quite of a continental character. The +weight and gravity of the City has, for once—and +by way of smiling antagonism to what +every one would expect of a coal-market—determined +to emulate the gayest places of +public amusement in France or Germany. +Restaurants, cafés, dancing-rooms—and oh!—shall +we say it—a touch of Cremorne! In +one panel you see a figure of <i>Watchfulness</i>, +typified by a robed lady, with a wise-faced +owl at her side. The river Severn is typified +by Naïads and a dolphin—by a little poetic +licence. In another panel we have <i>Charity</i>, +bearing a couple of children, with a figure of +old Father Thames sitting among rushes +below. Then, we have <i>Perseverance</i> for the +Avon, emblemed by a snail at the foot of a +brunette lady with black eyes,—the favourite +style of beauty of the artist, Mr. Sang. The +Trent and the Tyne are similarly illustrated, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>and all in the brightest colours, on a light +ground.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Let us now return to the principal entrance, +and ascend to the first gallery. The panels +all round, are painted as below. The chief +subject of most of them appears to be a colliery—that +is, the works above ground, such +as the little black house of the steam-engine, +with its long chain passing over the drum, +and then over a wheel above the pit’s mouth. +The first we come to is the celebrated Wallsend +colliery. Each has fanciful designs above +and beneath, as if to atone for the dark reality +of the centre piece, picturesque as this is +always made. Over some of these we find +heraldic monsters of the right frightful Order +of the Griffin, prancing above greyhounds who +crouch on each side of a large ornamental +cup, not unlike a head-dress of the ancient +South American Indians, which however is +supported by a lady in the bright costume of +a Mexican peasant, wearing wings. Beneath +there lies a rich grouping of grapes, arborescent +ferns, with vulture-headed griffins, and +flowers of the cactus. The collieries are occasionally +varied with a sea-piece, in which, of +course, a black collier-vessel is sailing from +the North. Sometimes the scene is a shore-piece +with a collier boat; but presided over +by the usual sort of nut-brown mining beauty +with Italian eyes, and hair in no particular +order, bearing a fruit-basket on her head, +piled up with all sorts of ripe fruit of the +most tempting size and colour. Beneath her, +we again find the griffin vultures holding +watch over some logs of antediluvian trees.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Wandering onwards in this way, we observed, +a little in advance of us, a seafaring +man, in a rough blue pilot coat, with a face +so weather-beaten that it looked as hard as a +ship’s figure-head, and a pair of great dangling +hands that seemed hewn out of solid oak. +He was very busy in front of one of the +panels, admiring a lady with very good-humoured +black eyes, and cheeks as red as ripe +tomatos, carrying on her head a basket of +Orlean plums and alligator pears, richly +grouped with a profusion of grapes, and crimson +flowers of the cactus. Her face was turned +smilingly upwards at a collier brig in full sail.</p> + +<p class='c005'>We congratulated him on his ‘choice,’ and +the suggestion appearing to please his fancy, a +little colloquy ensued, from which it turned +out that he was Thomas Oldcastle, of Durham, +captain of the collier brig ‘Shiner,’ of +South Shields, and having just discharged his +cargo at Rotherhithe, had come to London to +amuse himself for a few hours. Arriving at +the entrance in the course of our talk, we ascended +the stairs together, and soon reached +the second gallery.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The flooring of this gallery—in fact the +whole of it, like the previous one, was of cast +iron. In the semicircle of the entrance was a +picture of Newcastle, on one side, with its iron +bridge and railway combined, and its old stone +bridge below. It was very well and characteristically +painted, and of a sombre and rather +smoky colour, which Captain Oldcastle said +was too like to be very pleasing. His thoughts +were evidently reverting to the very highly coloured +operatic ladies below. On the other +side of this entrance was a picture of Durham, +with the cathedral among the trees—also a +very good and truthful picture. Captain Oldcastle, +after great deliberation, and the slow +pocketing of both hands, was obliged to confess +that it was something like the old place. +But this wall was not right—any how—and +that spire did not look so—when last he saw +it—in short, it was clear he wanted reality, +could not make out perspective differences, +and preferred the handsome looks of the brunette +fruit-bearer in the lower gallery.</p> + +<p class='c005'>But though our honest friend had no good +taste in pictures, there was a great mass of +good solid practical knowledge in the hard-outlined +head of this rough captain of the +North Sea. It turned out that he was an +old friend of Mr. Buddle, the coal engineer of +Wallsend, and often quoted him as authority. +Chancing to ask him some question about +the number of people employed in the coal trade +on the Tyne and the Wear, he said +that he had heard Buddle say (twenty years +ago) there were nearly 5,000 boys, and quite +3,500 men <i>underground</i> in the works near the +Tyne: and nearly 3,000 men, and 700 boys +above ground. On the Wear, he said there +were 9,000. All of these were employed in the +mines, and taking the coal to the ships on +the two rivers. Captain Oldcastle estimated +the vessels employed at about 1,400, which +would require 15,000 sailors and boys to +work them “as all ought to be.” Besides +these, there were lots more hands in other +parts of the great coal trade of the north.</p> + +<p class='c005'>But as this estimate of his friend Buddle, +we remarked, had been made twenty years +ago, was it not pretty certain that the +numbers had immensely increased by this +time? To this the Captain replied that +it was so, no doubt; and supposing that +every other district, besides the North, of +the entire coal trade of England, had increased +in the same proportion, and if you +added to this all the agents, factors, clerks, +subordinates, whippers, lightermen, wharfingers, +&c., there would be found upwards +of 200,000 men engaged in the Coal trade +of England,—enough, he added with a grimly +comical look, if a war broke out, to furnish +the army and navy with 20,000 men each, at +a week’s notice.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“If they liked the work,” we added; but +the Captain had walked on, attracted by a +picture in one of the panels. It was a portrait +of a miner in his underground dress—when +he wears any—the darkness of his figure and +position in the mine being pleasantly and +appropriately relieved by an immense quantity +of highly coloured <i>tropical</i> fruits, flowers, +griffin vultures, long and sleek-necked cranes, +arborescent ferns, various logs of wood known +<span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span>in fossil botany, with here and there a string +of choice jewels,—rubies, emeralds, and carbuncles +of prodigious size, such as one has +seen in “Blue Beard” and “Pizarro.” The +next figure was a miner with a Davy-lamp, +whom Captain Oldcastle shrewdly conjectured +to be looking out for some of those +jewels so profusely accorded to the fortunate +miner in the previous picture.</p> + +<p class='c005'>In walking round these galleries, amidst so +many adornments attracting the attention, a +visitor might be excused for not too hastily +turning his thoughts to utility. But this +thought, in these too practical days, will obtrude +itself. The number of the private +rooms for offices, on each gallery, is considerable; +their accommodations, all that could +be desired; their appearance most neat, quiet, +and unexceptionable; but by far the greater +part are <i>empty</i>. Nobody will take them. +Many of those on the ground-floor, or area of +the market—obviously the best place by far—are +unlet. These are of the high-priced, +of course; still, as the price decreases with +the ascent, why are not more of the upper +offices taken? Here—in the very centre of +all the great Coal trade of England!—and not +one-third, not one-fourth, we think, of the +offices let? We expressed our astonishment +to the Captain.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Oh!” said he, “the City is a queer place, +and the City authorities are a rum sort of +reasoners. They asked too much rent for +these berths at first; and though but a few +factors and merchants can afford to give it, +the City still persists. And so they are +obliged to go to the expence of fires in all +the empty offices to keep them aired three-quarters +of the year round, rather than see +the place full at a moderate rent. That’s +how I read their log.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>We now ascended to the third gallery. +Here, the cold, though not the “beggarly +array of empty boxes,” was most expressive +of the mismanagement, <i>somehow</i> and <i>somewhere</i> +of this well-placed, and most commodious +building, on which so much money has been +expended.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The paintings in the entrance of this uppermost +gallery were of ‘Shields’ on one side, +and ‘Sunderland’ on the other. That of +Shields was a view of colliers in the river by +moonlight, with a dull sky of indigo blue, and +smoky clouds—very well done, and truthful, +having a sufficient mixture of reality for the +nature of the subject, and of fancy for the +picturesque. The picture of Sunderland, with +its one-arched iron bridge, which is so high +above the water, that a collier can pass underneath +without striking her topmasts, is also a +night scene; but by torch-light; the red +flashes of which fall upon a train of little +upright waggons full of coals, coming from +the pit to be shipped.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The panels round this gallery are adorned +with paintings of gigantic ferns, fragments of +the trunks of the lepidodendron, and the +sigillaria, and other stems and foliage of those +antediluvian plants and trees which subsequently +contributed most largely to the coal +formations. These paintings are interspersed +with various miners’ tools, above which rises +the glass dome of the building.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Descending the well-staircase, we asked +Captain Oldcastle what capital he thought +was employed by the great coal owners on the +Tyne and Wear. He said—quoting his friend +Buddle again, as authority—that they could +not have embarked less than a million and a +half of money, without reckoning any of the +vessels on the river; but taking these into +the account, the capital employed would not +amount to less than between eight and ten +millions. And this estimate was made by +Buddle twenty years ago!</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c003'>THE GREAT PENAL EXPERIMENTS.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c004'>Prison Life, like life in all other circumstances, +has its extremes; and these have +been pushed to the farthest verge of contrast +by the ‘great experiments’ that have +lately been essayed. There is an aristocracy +of prisoners, and a commonality of prisoners; +there are palace prisons, and kennel prisons +in which it would be cruelty to confine refractory +dogs. We have hardened criminals +put into training in Model Prisons for pattern +penitence, and novices in crime thrust into +dens with the most depraved felons; so as to +bring them down in morals to the lowest +practicable level. The study of some of these +extremes is instructive. It shows what results +have been produced by the ‘great experiments’ +which have been tried; either how +much reform they have effected; or how many +misdemeanants they are likely to add to the +already over-populated dangerous class. For +the sake of impartiality we shall in each instance +offer no description of our own; but we +intend to cite what has already been in print.</p> + +<p class='c005'>A graphic but eccentric pen has supplied a +vivid description of the palace order of gaols. +“Some months ago,” says Mr. Carlyle, in a +recent pamphlet, “some friends took me with +them to see one of the London Prisons; a +Prison of the exemplary or model kind. An +immense circuit of buildings; cut out, girt with +a high ring wall, from the lanes and streets of +the quarter, which is a dim and crowded one. +Gateway as to a fortified place; then a +spacious court, like the square of a city; broad +staircases, passages to interior courts; fronts +of stately architecture all round. It lodges +some Thousand or Twelve-hundred prisoners, +besides the officers of the establishment. +Surely one of the most perfect buildings, +within the compass of London. We looked +at the apartments, sleeping-cells, dining-rooms, +working-rooms, general courts or +special and private; excellent all, the ne-plus-ultra +of human care and ingenuity; in +my life I never saw so clean a building; probably +no Duke in England lives in a mansion +<span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span>of such perfect and thorough cleanness. The +bread, the cocoa, soup, meat, all the various +sorts of food, in their respective cooking-places, +we tasted; found them of excellence superlative. +The prisoners sat at work, light work, +picking oakum and the like, in airy apartments +with glass roofs, of agreeable temperature and +perfect ventilation; silent, or at least conversing +only by secret signs; others were +out, taking their hour of promenade in clean +flagged courts; methodic composure, cleanliness, +peace, substantial wholesome comfort, +reigned everywhere supreme.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>This is the great model experiment. We can +easily reverse the picture. It is but a short walk +from Pentonville to Smithfield—scarcely two +miles—yet, in the prison world, the two places +are antipodes. Here, within the hallowed +precincts of the City, stands Giltspur Street +Compter, upon the state of which we produce +another witness. Mr. Dixon, in his work on +London Prisons, testifies that in this jail the +prisoners “sleep in small cells, little more than +half the size of the model cell at Pentonville, +which is calculated (on the supposition that the +cell is to be ventilated on the best plan which +science can suggest, regardless of cost) to be +just large enough for <i>one</i> inmate. The cell in +Giltspur Street Compter is little more than half +the size, and is either not ventilated at all, or is +ventilated very imperfectly. I have measured +it, and know exactly the quantity of air which +it will hold, and have no doubt but that it +contains less than any human being ought to +breathe in, in the course of a night. Well, in +this cell, in which there is hardly room for +them to lie down, I have seen <i>five</i> persons locked +up, at four o’clock in the day, to be there confined, +in darkness, in idleness, to pass all those +hours, to do all the offices of nature, not +merely in each other’s presence, but crushed +by the narrowness of their den into a state of +filthy contact which brute beasts would have +resisted to the last gasp of life! Think of +these five wretched beings—men with souls, and +gifted with human reason—condemned, day +by day, to pass in this unutterably loathsome +manner two-thirds of their time! Can we +wonder if these men come out of prison, +after three or four months of such treatment, +prepared to commit the most revolting crimes? +Could five of the purest men in the world live +together in such a manner without losing every +attribute of good which had once belonged to +them? He would be a rash man who would +dare to answer—‘Yes.’ Take another fact +from Newgate. In any of the female wards +may be seen, a week before the Sessions, a +collection of persons of every shade of guilt, +and some who are innocent. I remember +one case particularly. A servant girl, of +about sixteen, a fresh-looking healthy creature, +recently up from the country, was charged +by her mistress for stealing a brooch. She +was in the same room—lived all day, slept +all night—with the most abandoned of her sex. +They were left alone; they had no work to do; +no books—except a few tracts for which they +had no taste—to read. The whole day was +spent, as is usual in such prisons, in telling +stories—the gross and guilty stories of their +own lives. There is no form of wickedness, +no aspect of vice, with which the poor creature’s +mind would not be compelled to grow +familiar in the few weeks she passed in Newgate +awaiting trial. When the day came, +the evidence against her was found to be the +lamest in the world, and she was at once +acquitted. That she entered Newgate innocent +I have no doubt; but who shall answer +for the state in which she left it?”</p> + +<p class='c005'>Let us not wrong the City in supposing it +singular in promoting these loathsome prison +scenes. A hundred passages, in nearly as +many blue books, are ready for quotation, to +show how some of the ‘great experiments’ in +not a few of the National prisons have turned +out. One, however, will do. Here is a sentence +or two from the Government’s own +report of the state of one of its own hulks +at Woolwich—the same Government which +has been so good as to dispense upwards of +90,000<i>l.</i> of the public money in building the +Pentonville Model. We cannot quote it +entire, by reason of some of the passages +being too revolting for reproduction in these +pages:—</p> + +<p class='c005'>“In the hospital ship, the “Unité,” the great +majority of the patients were infested with +vermin, and their persons in many instances, +particularly their feet, begrimed with dirt. +No regular supply of body linen had been +issued; so much so, that many men had been +five weeks without a change; and all record +had been lost of the time when the blankets +had been washed; and the number of sheets +was so insufficient, that the expedient had +to be resorted to of only a single sheet at +a time to save appearances. Neither towels +nor combs were provided for the prisoners’ +use. * * * On the admission of new cases +into the hospital, patients were directed to +leave their beds and go into hammocks, and +the new cases were turned into the vacated +beds, without changing the sheets.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>Is anything more shocking than the Compter, +Newgate, and the Unité to be conceived? +Do travellers tell us of anything worse in +Russia, or China, or Old Tartary? “O! yes; +there is Austria and its life-punishments +in Spielberg,” some one may suggest, “surely +there is no London parallel for that.” But +Mr. Dixon answers there is:—in the Millbank +Penitentiary. ‘The dark cells,’ he +says, ‘are fearful places, and sometimes melancholy +mistakes are made in committing +persons to them. You descend about twenty +steps from the ground-floor into a very dark +passage leading into a corridor, on one side +of which the cells—small, dark, ill-ventilated, +and doubly barred—are ranged. No glimpse +of day ever comes into this fearful place. +The offender is locked up for three days, and +fed on bread and water only. There is only +<span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span>a board to sleep on; and the only furniture +of the cell is a water-closet. On a former +visit to Millbank, some months ago, I was +told there was a person in one of these cells. +“He is touched, poor fellow!” said the +warden, “in his intellects.” But his madness +was very mild. He wished to fraternise with +the other prisoners; declared that all mankind +are brethren; sang hymns when told to be +silent; and when reprimanded for taking these +unwarranted liberties, declared that he was the +“governor.” They said he <i>pretended</i> to be +mad; which, seeing that his vagaries subjected +him to continual punishments, and procured +him no advantages, was very likely! +They put him into darkness to enlighten his +understanding; and alone, to teach him how +unbrotherly men are. Poor wretch! He was +frightened with his solitude, and howled fearfully. +I shall never forget his wail as we +passed the door of his horrid dungeon. The +tones were quite unearthly, and caused an involuntary +shudder. On hearing footsteps, he +evidently thought they were coming to release +him. While we remained in the corridor, he +did not cease to shout and implore most +lamentably for freedom: when he heard us +retreating, his voice rose into a yell; and when +the fall of the heavy bolts told him that +we were gone, he gave a shriek of horror, +agony, and despair, which ran through the +pentagon, and can never be forgotten. God +grant that I may never hear such sounds +again! On coming again, after three or four +months’ absence, to this part of the prison, the +inquiry naturally arose, “What has become of +the man who <i>pretended</i> to be mad?” The +answer was, “Oh, he went mad, and was sent +to Bedlam!”’</p> + +<p class='c005'>What happens at Pentonville, and what +takes place at Millbank, is done under the +same eye, under the same legislative supervision. +The two “great experiments” of iron +and feather-bed prison reform are worked out +by the same power. The despots of Russia, +Austria, and China, are at least consistent. +They have not carried on opposite systems—one +of extreme severity, and another of superlative +‘coddling.’ In no other country but +this does Justice—blind as she is—administer +cocoa and condign misery to the same degree +of crime with the same hand.</p> + +<p class='c005'>We have thrown these facts together, +merely to awaken attention to them. We +purposely abstain from suggestive comment. +We know that the subject of reformatory +punishment is fraught with difficulties, to conquer +which all the “great experiments” have +been tried. But they have only been “great” +because of their great expense and their great +failure; and when the failure is incontestable—proved +beyond doubt by the direst results,—should +they not be abandoned, and something +else tried, instead of being made an absolute +matter of faith, and a test to which certain +county magistrates, whom we could name, +bring every man who is unhappy enough to be +within their power? The cause of it is plainly +and constantly presented at the bar of every +Police Court and in the dock of every +Sessions House. It has resulted from an utter +misapprehension of means to end, and a lofty +disregard of the good old adage, “prevention +is better than cure.” Although it has been +daily observed that ignorance—moral more +than intellectual—ignorance has been the +forerunner of all juvenile crime, we have +never tried any very great experiment upon +<i>that</i>. On the contrary, we spend hundreds +of thousands every year to effect the manifest +impossibility of re-forming what has never +been formed. We have tried every shade +of system but the right. Ingenuity has been +on the rack to invent every sort of reformatory, +from the iron rule of Millbank, to the +affectionate fattening at Pentonville—except +one, and that happens to be the right one. +Punishment has occupied all our thoughts,—training, +none. We condemn young criminals +for not knowing certain moralities which we +have not taught them, and—by herding them +with accomplished professors of dishonesty in +transit jails—punish them for immoralities +which have been there taught them. Instances +of this can be adduced in so large a proportion +as to amount to a rule; to which the +appearance of instructed juvenile criminals at +the tribunals is the exception. Two or three +glaring cases occurred only the past month. +We select one as reported in the “Globe” +newspaper of Tuesday, May 7:—</p> + +<p class='c011'>‘<span class='sc'>Bow-Street Police-Court.</span>—This day, two +little children, whose heads hardly reached the +top of the dock, were placed at the bar before +Mr. Jardine, charged with stealing a loaf. Their +very appearance told the want they were in. +The housekeeper to Mr. Mims, baker, Drury +Lane, deposed, that they, about eight o’clock last +evening, went into the shop and asked for a +quartern loaf, and while her back was turned +to get it for them, they stole a half quartern loaf, +value 2½<i>d.</i>, which was lying on the counter, and +made off with it. Police constable, F 14, deposed, +that he was on duty in Drury Lane, and seeing +them quarrelling over the loaf, he asked them +where they had got it. One of them answered, +they had stolen it. After ascertaining how they +came by it, he took them into custody. In +defence, the prisoners said they were starving. +Mr. Jardine sentenced them both to be once +whipped in the House of Correction.’</p> + +<p class='c005'>These children were without means, friends, +or any sort of instruction. They were whipped +then for their ignorance and want, for both +which they are not responsible. After whipping +and a few imprisonments they will +doubtless be boarded and instructed by +fellow prisoners into finished thieves. The +authorities tell us, that five-eighths of the +juvenile criminals—and a few become professional +after the age of twenty—who are +received into jails, have not received one +spark of moral or intellectual training!</p> + +<p class='c005'>These, and a thousand other facts too obvious +<span class='pageno' id='Page_253'>253</span>for the common sense of our readers to +be troubled with, induce us to recommend +one other ‘great experiment’ which has +never yet been tried. It has the advantage +of being a preventive as well as a cure—it +is—compared with all the penal systems +now in practice—immeasurably safer, more +humane, and incalculably cheaper. The +‘great experiment’ we propose, is <span class='sc'>National +Education</span>.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c003'>THE ORPHAN’S VOYAGE HOME.</h2> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c006'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>The men could hardly keep the deck,</div> + <div class='line in2'>So bitter was the night;</div> + <div class='line'>Keen north-east winds sang thro’ the shrouds,</div> + <div class='line in2'>The deck was frosty white;</div> + <div class='line'>While overhead the glistening stars</div> + <div class='line in2'>Put forth their points of light.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>On deck, behind a bale of goods,</div> + <div class='line in2'>Two orphans crouch’d, to sleep;</div> + <div class='line'>But ’twas so cold, the youngest boy</div> + <div class='line in2'>In vain tried not to weep:</div> + <div class='line'>They were so poor, they had no right</div> + <div class='line in2'>Near cabin doors to creep.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>The elder round the younger wrapt</div> + <div class='line in2'>His little ragged cloak,</div> + <div class='line'>To shield him from the freezing sleet,</div> + <div class='line in2'>And surf that o’er them broke;</div> + <div class='line'>Then drew him closer to his side,</div> + <div class='line in2'>And softly to him spoke:—</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“The night will not be long”—he said,</div> + <div class='line in2'>“And if the cold winds blow,</div> + <div class='line'>We shall the sooner reach our home,</div> + <div class='line in2'>And see the peat-fire glow;</div> + <div class='line'>But now the stars are beautiful—</div> + <div class='line in2'>Oh, do not tremble so!</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“Come closer!—sleep—forget the frost—</div> + <div class='line in2'>Think of the morning red—</div> + <div class='line'>Our father and our mother soon</div> + <div class='line in2'>Will take us to their bed;</div> + <div class='line'>And in their warm arms we shall sleep.”</div> + <div class='line in2'>He knew not they were dead.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>For them no father to the ship</div> + <div class='line in2'>Shall with the morning come;</div> + <div class='line'>For them no mother’s loving arms</div> + <div class='line in2'>Are spread to take them home:</div> + <div class='line'>Meanwhile the cabin passengers</div> + <div class='line in2'>In dreams of pleasure roam.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>At length the orphans sank to sleep</div> + <div class='line in2'>All on the freezing deck;</div> + <div class='line'>Close huddled side to side—each arm</div> + <div class='line in2'>Clasp’d round the other’s neck.</div> + <div class='line'>With heads bent down, they dream’d the earth</div> + <div class='line in2'>Was fading to a speck.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>The steerage passengers have all</div> + <div class='line in2'>Been taken down below,</div> + <div class='line'>And round the stove they warm their limbs</div> + <div class='line in2'>Into a drowsy glow;</div> + <div class='line'>And soon within their berths forget</div> + <div class='line in2'>The icy wind and snow.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>Now morning dawns: the land in sight,</div> + <div class='line in2'>Smiles beam on every face!</div> + <div class='line'>The pale and qualmy passengers</div> + <div class='line in2'>Begin the deck to pace,</div> + <div class='line'>Seeking along the sun-lit cliffs</div> + <div class='line in2'>Some well-known spot to trace.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>Only the orphans do not stir,</div> + <div class='line in2'>Of all this bustling train:</div> + <div class='line'>They reach’d their <i>home</i> this starry night!</div> + <div class='line in2'>They will not stir again!</div> + <div class='line'>The winter’s breath proved kind to them,</div> + <div class='line in2'>And ended all their pain.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>But in their deep and freezing sleep</div> + <div class='line in2'>Clasp’d rigid to each other,</div> + <div class='line'>In dreams they cried, “The bright morn breaks,</div> + <div class='line in2'>Home! home! is here, my brother!</div> + <div class='line'>The Angel Death has been our friend—</div> + <div class='line in2'>We come! dear Father! Mother!”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c003'>ILLUSTRATIONS OF CHEAPNESS.</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c007'>TEA.</h3> + +<p class='c008'>The history of tea, from its first introduction +to England, may be read in the history of +taxation. It appears to have escaped the +notice of nearly all writers on tea, that the +first tax is a curious illustration of the original +mode of its sale. By the act of the +22d and 23d Charles II., 1670–1, a duty of +eighteenpence was imposed upon ‘every <i>gallon</i> +of chocolate, sherbet, and tea, made and sold, +to be paid by the makers thereof.’ It is manifest +that such a tax was impossible to be +collected without constant evasion; and so, +after having remained on the Statute Book for +seventeen years, it was discovered, in 1688, +that ‘the collecting of the duty by way of +Excise upon the liquors of coffee, chocolate, +and tea, is not only very troublesome and unequal +upon the retailers of these liquors, but +requireth such attendance of officers as makes +the neat receipt very inconsiderable.’ The +excise upon the liquor was therefore repealed, +and heavy Customs’ duties imposed on the +imported tea.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The annals of tea may be divided into +epochs. The first is that in which the liquid +only was taxed, which tax commenced about +ten years after we have any distinct record of +the public or private use of tea. In 1660, dear +old Pepys writes, ‘I did send for a cup of tea +(a China drink) of which I never had drank +before.’ In 1667, the herb had found its way +into his own house: ‘Home, and there find +my wife making of tea; a drink which Mr. +Pelling, the Potticary, tells her is good for +her cold and defluxions.’</p> + +<p class='c005'>Mrs. Pepys making her first cup of tea is a +subject to be painted. How carefully she +metes out the grains of the precious drug, +which Mr. Pelling, the Potticary, has sold her +at a most enormous price—a crown an ounce +at the very least. She has tasted the liquor +once before: but then there was sugar in the +infusion—a beverage only for the highest. If +tea should become fashionable, it will cost in +housekeeping as much as their claret. However, +Pepys says, the price is coming down; +and he produces the handbill of Thomas +Garway, in Exchange Alley, which the lady +peruses with great satisfaction; for the worthy +merchant says, that although ‘tea in England +hath been sold in the leaf for six pounds, and +sometimes for ten pounds the pound weight,’ +<span class='pageno' id='Page_254'>254</span>he ‘by continued care and industry in obtaining +the best tea,’ now ‘sells tea for 16<i>s.</i> to 50<i>s.</i> +a pound.’ Garway not only sells tea in the +leaf, but ‘many noblemen, physicians, merchants, +&c., daily resort to his house to drink +the drink thereof.’ The coffee-houses soon ran +away with the tea-merchant’s liquid customers. +They sprang up all over London; they became +a fashion at the Universities. Coffee and tea +came into England as twin-brothers. Like +many other foreigners, they received a full +share of abuse and persecution from the people +and the state. Coffee was denounced as ‘hell +broth,’ and tea as ‘poison.’ But the coffee-houses +became fashionable at once; and for a +century were the exclusive resorts of wits +and politicians. ‘Here,’ says a pamphleteer +of 1673, ‘haberdashers of political small wares +meet, and mutually abuse each other and the +public, with bottomless stories and headless +notions.’ Clarendon, in 1666, proposed, either +to suppress them, or to employ spies to +note down the conversation. In 1670 the +liquids sold at the coffee-houses were to be +taxed. We can scarcely imagine a state +of society in which the excise officer was +superintending the preparation of a gallon +of tea, and charging his eightpence. The exciseman +and the spy were probably united in +the same person. During this period we may +be quite certain that tea was unknown, as a +general article of diet, in the private houses +even of the wealthiest. But it was not taxation +which then kept it out of use. The +drinkers of tea were ridiculed by the wits, and +frightened by the physicians. More than all, +a new habit had to be acquired. The praise of +Boyle was nothing against the ancient influences +of ale and claret. It was then a help to +excess instead of a preventive. A writer in 1682 +says,—‘I know some that celebrate good Thee +for preventing drunkenness, taking it before +they go to the tavern, and use it very much +also after a debauch.’ One of the first attractions +of ‘the cup which cheers but not inebriates’ +was as a minister of evil.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The second epoch of tea was that of excessive +taxation; which lasted from the five +shillings Customs’ duty of 1688 to 1745, +more than half a century, in which fiscal +folly and prohibition were almost convertible +terms. Yet tea gradually forced its way into +domestic use. In a Tatler of 1710 we read +‘I am credibly informed, by an antiquary +who has searched the registers in which the +bills of fare of the court are recorded, that +instead of tea and bread and butter, which +have prevailed of late years, the maids of +honour in Queen Elizabeth’s time were +allowed three rumps of beef for their breakfast.’ +Tea for breakfast must have been +expensive in 1710. In the original edition of +the Tatler, we have many advertisements +about tea, one of which we copy:—</p> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c012'> + <div><i>From the Tatler of October 10, 1710.</i></div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c011'>“Mr. Fary’s 16<i>s.</i> Bohee Tea, not much inferior +in goodness to the best Foreign Bohee Tea, is sold +by himself only at the Bell in Gracechurch Street. +Note,—the best Foreign Bohee is worth 30<i>s.</i> a +pound; so that what is sold at 20<i>s.</i> or 21<i>s.</i> must +either be faulty Tea, or mixed with a proportionate +quantity of damaged Green or Bohee, the +worst of which will remain black after infusion.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Mr. Fary’s 16<i>s.</i> Bohee Tea, not much inferior +in goodness to the best Foreign Bohee +Tea’ was, upon the face of it, an indigenous +manufacture. ‘The best Foreign Bohee is +worth 30<i>s.</i> a pound.’ With such Queen +Anne refreshed herself at Hampton Court:</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c013'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>‘Here thou, great Anna, whom three realms obey,</div> + <div class='line'>Dost sometimes counsel take, and sometimes tea.’</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c005'>When the best tea was at 30<i>s.</i> a pound, the +home consumption of tea was about a hundred +and forty thousand pounds per annum. A +quarter of a century later, in the early tea-drinking +days of Dr. Johnson, the consumption +had quadrupled. And yet tea was then +so dear, that Garrick was cross even with his +favourite actress for using it too freely. +‘I remember,’ says Johnson, ‘drinking tea +with him long ago, when Peg Woffington +made it, and he grumbled at her for making +it too strong. He had then begun to feel +money in his purse, and did not know when +he should have enough of it.’ In 1745, the +last year of the second tea epoch, the consumption +was only seven hundred and thirty +thousand pounds per annum. Yet even at +this period tea was forcing itself into common +use. Duncan Forbes, in his Correspondence, +which ranges from 1715 to 1748, is bitter +against ‘the excessive use of tea; which is +now become so common, that the meanest +families, even of labouring people, particularly +in boroughs, make their morning’s meal of it, +and thereby wholly disuse the ale, which +heretofore was their accustomed drink; and +the same drug supplies all the labouring +women with their afternoon’s entertainments, +to the exclusion of the twopenny.’ The excellent +President of the Court of Session had +his prejudices; and he was frightened at the +notion that tea was driving out beer; and +thus, diminishing the use of malt, was to be +the ruin of agriculture. Some one gave the +Government of the day wiser counsel than +that of prohibitory duties, which he desired.</p> + +<p class='c005'>In 1745, the quantity of tea retained for +home consumption was 730,729 lbs. In 1746, +it amounted to 2,358,589 lbs. The consumption +was trebled. The duty had been reduced, in +1745, from 4<i>s.</i> per lb. to 1<i>s.</i> per lb., and 25 per +cent. on the gross price. For forty years +afterwards, the Legislature contrived to keep +the consumption pretty equal with the increase +of the population, putting on a little +more duty when the demand seemed a little +increasing. These were the palmy days of +Dr. Johnson’s tea triumphs—the days in +which he describes himself as ‘a hardened +and shameless tea drinker, who has for many +years diluted his meals with only the infusion +of this fascinating plant; whose kettle has +<span class='pageno' id='Page_255'>255</span>scarcely time to cool; who with tea amuses +the evenings; with tea solaces the midnights; +and with tea welcomes the morning.’ This +was the third epoch—that of considerable +taxation, enhancing the monopoly price of an +article, sold to the people at exorbitant profits.</p> + +<p class='c005'>In 1785, the Government boldly repealed +the Excise duty; and imposed only a Customs’ +duty of 12½ per cent. The consumption of +tea was doubled in the first year after the +change, and quadrupled in the third. The +system was too good to last. The concession +of three years in which the public might freely +use an article of comfort was quite enough +for official liberality and wisdom. New duties +were imposed in 1787; the consumption +was again driven back, and by additional +duty upon duty, was kept far behind the +increase of the population for another thirty +years. In 1784, the annual consumption was +only 4,948,983 lbs.; in 1787, with a reduced +duty, it was 17,047,054 lbs.; in 1807, when we +had almost reached the climax of high duties, +it was only 19,239,212 lbs. This state of +things, with very slight alteration, continued +till the peace. The consumption had been +nearly stationary for thirty years, with a duty +raised from 12½ per cent. to 96 per cent. +Those were the days, which some of us +may remember, when we paid 12<i>s.</i> a pound +for our green tea, and 8<i>s.</i> for our black; the +days when convictions for the sale of spurious +tea were of constant occurrence; and +yet the days when Cobbett was alarmed lest +tea should become a common beverage, and +calculated that between eleven and twelve +pounds a year were consumed by a cottager’s +family in tea-drinking. During this fourth +epoch of excessive taxation, the habit of tea-drinking +had become so rooted in the people, +that no efforts of the Government could +destroy it. The teas under 2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> a pound +(the Company’s warehouse prices without +duty), were the teas of the working classes—the +teas of the cottage and the kitchen. In +1801, such teas paid only an excise of 15 per +cent.; in 1803, they paid 60 per cent.; in +1806, 90 per cent. And yet the washerwoman +looked to her afternoon ‘dish of tea,’ as +something that might make her comfortable +after her twelve hours’ labour; and balancing +her saucer on a tripod of three fingers, +breathed a joy beyond utterance as she cooled +the draught. The factory workman then +looked forward to the singing of the kettle, as +some compensation for the din of the spindle. +Tea had found its way even to the hearth of +the agricultural labourer. He ‘had lost his +rye teeth’—to use his own expression for his +preference of wheaten bread—and he would +have his ounce of tea as well as the best of his +neighbours. Sad stuff the chandler’s shop furnished +him: no commodity brought hundreds +of miles from the interior of China, chiefly by +human labour; shipped according to the most +expensive arrangements; sold under a limited +competition at the dearest rate; and taxed +as highly as its wholesale cost. The small +tea-dealers had their manufactured tea. +But they had also their smuggled tea. The +pound of tea which sold for eight shillings in +England, was selling at Hamburg for fourteenpence. +It was hard indeed if the artisan +did not occasionally obtain a cup of good tea +at a somewhat lower price than the King and +John Company had willed. No dealer could +send out six pounds of tea without a permit. +Excisemen were issuing permits and examining +permits all over the kingdom. But +six hundred per cent. profit was too much for +the weakness of human nature and the power +of the exciseman.</p> + +<p class='c005'>From the peace, to the opening of the +China tea-trade in 1833, and the repeal of +the excise duty in 1834, there was a considerable +increase in the consumption of tea, +but not an increase at all comparable to +the increase since 1834. We consumed ten +million pounds more tea in 1833 than in 1816, +a period of sixteen years; we consumed in +1848, a period of fifteen years, seventeen +million pounds more than in 1833. In 1848 +we retained for home consumption, 48,735,791 +pounds. It is this present period of large +consumption which forms the fifth epoch.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The present duty on tea is 2<i>s.</i> 2¼<i>d.</i> a pound. +The experienced housewife knows where to +buy excellent tea at 4<i>s.</i> a pound. But there +are shops in London where tea may be bought +at 3<i>s.</i>, and 3<i>s.</i> 4<i>d.</i> a pound. Such low priced +teas are used more freely than ever by the +hard-working poor. The duty is now unvarying, +but enormously high. It is unnecessary +to assume that the cheap teas are now +adulterated teas. In the London Price +Currents of the present May, there are several +sorts of tea as low as 8<i>d.</i> per pound, wholesale +without duty. The finer teas vary from +1<i>s.</i> to 2<i>s.</i> In 1833, previous to the opening of +the China trade, the price of Congou tea in +the Company’s warehouses ranged from 2<i>s.</i> to +3<i>s.</i> per pound; in 1850 the lowest current +price was 9<i>d.</i>, the highest 1<i>s.</i> 4<i>d.</i> In 1833, the +Company’s price of Hyson tea varied from 3<i>s.</i> +to 5<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>; in 1850, the lowest current price +was 1<i>s.</i> 2<i>d.</i>, the highest 3<i>s.</i> 4<i>d.</i></p> + +<p class='c005'>With the amount of duty on tea twice as +high in 1850 as in 1833, how is it that tea may +be universally bought at one half of the price +of 1833? How is it that an article which +yields five millions of revenue has become so +cheap that it is now scarcely a luxury? Before +we answer this, let us explain why we say +that the duty is twice as high now as in 1833. +Before the opening of the China trade tea was +taxed under the Excise at an ad-valorem +duty of ninety-six per cent. on one sort, and +one hundred per cent. on another, which gave +an average of about half-a-crown a pound. +Those who resisted the destruction of the +Company’s monopoly predicted that the +supply would fall off under the open trade; +that the Chinese would not deal with private +merchants; that the market for tea in China +<span class='pageno' id='Page_256'>256</span>was a limited one; that tea would become +scarcer and dearer. The Government knew +better than this. It repealed the Excise duty +with all its cumbrous machinery of permits; +and it imposed a Customs’ duty <i>at per pound</i>, +which exists now, as it did in 1836, with the +addition of five per cent. Had the duty of +1833 been continued,—the hundred per cent +duty—the great bulk of tea, which is sold at +an average of a shilling a pound would have +been only taxed a shilling a pound; it is now +taxed 2<i>s.</i> 2¼<i>d.</i> By a side-wind, the Government, +with what some persons may call financial foresight, +doubled the tax upon the humbler consumers. +But it may be fairly questioned +whether, if the tax of 1833 had continued, the +Government would not have secured as much +revenue by the poor doubling their consumption +of tea. The demand for no article of +general use is so fluctuating as that for tea. +In seasons of prosperity, the consumption +rises several millions of pounds above the +average; in times of depression it falls as +much below. Tea is the barometer of the +poor man’s command of something more than +bread. With a tax of 2<i>s.</i> 2¼<i>d.</i> a pound, it is +clear that if sound commercial principles, +improved navigation, wholesale competition, +and moderate retail profits, had not found +their way into the tea-trade, since the abolition +of the monopoly in 1833, the revenue +upon tea would have been stationary, instead +of having increased a million and a half. All +the manifold causes that produce commercial +cheapness in general—science, careful employment +of capital in profitable exchange, +certainty and rapidity of communication, +extension of the market—have been especially +working to make tea cheap. Tea is more and +more becoming a necessary of life to all +classes. Tea was denounced first as a poison, +and then as an extravagance. Cobbett was +furious against it. An Edinburgh Reviewer +of 1823, keeps no terms with its use by the +poor: ‘We venture to assert, that when a +labourer fancies himself refreshed with a mess +of this stuff, sweetened by the coarsest black +sugar, and with azure blue milk, it is only +the warmth of the water that soothes him for +the moment; unless, perhaps, the sweetness +may be palatable also.’ It is dangerous even +for great reviewers to ‘venture to assert.’ +In a few years after comes Liebig, with his +chemical discoveries; and demonstrates that +coffee and tea have become necessaries of life +to whole nations, by the presence of one and +the same substance in both vegetables, which +has a peculiar effect upon the animal system; +that they were both originally met with +amongst nations whose diet is chiefly vegetable; +and, by contributing to the formation +of bile, their peculiar function, have become +a substitute for animal food to a large class +of the population whose consumption of meat +is very limited, and to another large class +who are unable to take regular exercise.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Tea and coffee, then, are more especially +essential to the poor. They supply a void +which the pinched labourer cannot so readily +fill up with weak and sour ale; they are +substitutes for the country walk to the factory +girl, or the seamstress in a garret. They +are ministers to temperance; they are home +comforts. Mrs. Piozzi making tea for Dr. +Johnson till four o’clock in the morning, and +listening contentedly to his wondrous talk, is +a pleasant anecdote of the first century of tea; +the artisan’s wife, lingering over the last +evening cup, while her husband reads his +newspaper or his book, is something higher, +which belongs to our own times.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c003'>THE SICKNESS AND HEALTH OF THE PEOPLE OF BLEABURN.</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c007'>IN THREE PARTS.—CHAPTER VI.</h3> + +<p class='c008'>The new clergyman was, as the landlord +had supposed he would be, a very different +person from Mr. Finch. If he had not been +a fearless man, he would not have come: much +less would he have brought his wife, which +he did. The first sight of this respectable +couple, middle-aged, business like, and somewhat +dry in their manner, tended to give +sobriety to the tone of mind of the Bleaburn +people; a sobriety which was more and more +wanted from day to day; while certainly the +aspect of Bleaburn was enough to discourage +the new residents, let their expectations have +been as dismal as they might.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Mr. and Mrs. Kirby arrived when Bleaburn +was at its lowest point of depression and woe. +The churchyard was now so full that it could +not be made to hold more; and ten or eleven +corpses were actually lying unburied, infecting +half-a-dozen cottages from this cause. +There was an actual want of food in the place—so +few were able to earn wages. Farmer +Neale did all he could to tempt his neighbours +to work for him; for no strangers would +come near a place which was regarded as a +pesthouse; but the strongest arm had lost its +strength; and the men, even those who had +not had the fever, said they felt as if they +could never work again. The women went +on, as habitual knitters do, knitting early and +late, almost night and day; but there was no +sale. Even if their wares were avouched to +have been passed through soap and water +before they were brought to O——, still no +one would run the slightest risk for the sake +of hose and comforters; and week after week, +word was sent that nothing was sold: and at +last, that it would be better not to send any +more knitted goods. In the midst of all this +distress, there was no one to speak to the +people; no one to keep their minds clear and +their hearts steady. For many weeks, there +had not been a prayer publicly read, nor a +psalm sung. Meanwhile, the great comet +appeared nightly, week after week. It seemed +as if it would never go away; and there was +a general persuasion that the comet was sent +<span class='pageno' id='Page_257'>257</span>for a sign to Bleaburn alone, and not at all +for the rest of the earth, or of the universe; +and that the fever would not be stayed while +the sign remained in the sky. It would have +been well if this had been the worst. The +people, always rude, were now growing desperate; +and they found, as desperate people +usually do, an object near at hand to vent +their fury upon. They said that it was the +doctor’s business to make them well: that he +had not made them well: that so many had +died, that anybody might see how foul means +had been used; and that at last some of the +doctor’s tricks had come out. Two of Dick +Taylor’s children had been all but choked, by +some of the doctor’s physic; and they might +have died, if the Good Lady had not chanced +to have been there at the moment, and known +what to do. And the doctor tried to get off +with saying that it was a mistake, and that +that physic was never made to go down anybody’s +throat. They said, too, that it was only +in this doctor’s time that there had been such +a fever. There was none such in the late +doctor’s time; nor now, in other places—at +least, not so bad. It was nothing like so bad +at O——. The doctor had spoken lightly of +the comet: he had made old Nan Dart burn +the bedding that her grandmother left her—the +same that so many of her family had died +on: and, though he gave her new bedding, it +could never be the same to her as the old. +But there was no use talking. The doctor +was there to make them well; and instead of +doing that, he made two out of three die, of +those that had the fever. Such grumblings +broke out into storm; and when Mr. and +Mrs. Kirby descended into the hollow which +their friends feared would be their tomb, they +found the whole remaining population of the +place blocking up the street before the +doctor’s house, and smashing his phials, and +making a pile of his pill-boxes and little +drawers, as they were handed out of his +surgery window. A woman had brought a +candle at the moment to fire the pill-boxes: +and she kneeled down to apply the flame. +The people had already broken bottles enough +to spill a good deal of queer stuff; and some +of this stuff was so queer as to blaze up, half +as high as the houses, as quick as thought. +The flame ran along the ground, and spread +like magic. The people fled, supposing this +the doings of the comet and the doctor together. +Off they went, up and down, and into +the houses whose doors were open. But the +woman’s clothes were on fire. She would +have run too; but Mr. Kirby caught her +arm, and his firm grasp made her stand, while +Mrs. Kirby wrapped her camlet cloak about +the part that was on fire. It was so quickly +done—in such a moment of time, that the +poor creature was not much burned; not at +all dangerously; and the new pastor was at +once informed of the character of the charge +he had undertaken.</p> + +<p class='c005'>That very evening Warrender was sent +through the village, as crier, to give a notice, +to which every ear was open. Mr. Kirby +having had medical assurance that it was +injurious to the public health that more +funerals should take place in the churchyard, +and that the bodies should lie unburied, would +next day, bury the dead above the brow, on a +part of Furzy Knoll, selected for the purpose. +For anything unusual about this proceeding, +Mr. Kirby would be answerable, considering +the present state of the village of Bleaburn. +A waggon would pass through the village at +six o’clock the next morning; and all who +had a coffin in their houses were requested to +bring it out, for solemn conveyance to the +new burial ground: and those who wished to +attend the interment must be on the ground +at eight o’clock.</p> + +<p class='c005'>All ears were open again the next morning, +when the cart made its slow progress down +the street; and some went out to see. It was +starlight: and from the east came enough of +dawn to show how the vehicle looked with +the pall thrown over it. Now and then, as it +passed a space between the houses, a puff of +wind blew aside the edge of the pall, and then +the coffins were seen within, ranged one upon +another,—quite a load of them. It stopped +for a minute at the bottom of the street; and +it was a relief to the listeners to hear Warrender +tell the driver that there were no more, +and that he might proceed up to the brow. +After watching the progress of the cart till it +could no longer be distinguished from the wall +of grey rock along which it was ascending, +those who could be spared from tending the +sick put on such black as they could muster, +to go to the service.</p> + +<p class='c005'>It was, happily, a fine morning;—as fine a +November morning as could be seen. It is +not often that weather is of so much consequence +as it was to the people of Bleaburn +to-day. They could not themselves +have told how it was that they came +down from the awful service at Furzy +Knoll so much more light-hearted than they +went up; and when some of them were asked +the reason, by those who remained below, +they could not explain it,—but, somehow, +everything looked brighter. It was, in fact, +not merely the calm sunshine on the hills, and +the quiet shadows in the hollows; it was not +merely the ruddy tinge of the autumn ferns +on the slopes, or the lively hop and flit of the +wag-tail about the spring-heads and the stones +in the pool; it was not merely that the fine +morning yielded cheering influences like these, +but that it enabled many, who would have +been kept below by rain, to hear what their +new pastor had to say. After going through +the burial service very quietly, and waiting +with a cheerful countenance while the business +of lowering so many coffins by so few +hands was effected, he addressed, in a plain +and conversational style, those who were present. +He told them that he had never before +witnessed an interment like this; and he did +<span class='pageno' id='Page_258'>258</span>not at all suppose that either he or they should +see such another. Indeed, henceforth any +funerals must take place without delay; as +they very well might, now that, on this beautiful +spot, there was room without limit. He +told them how Farmer Neale had had the +space they saw staked out since yesterday, and +how it would be fenced in—roughly, perhaps, +but securely—before night. He hoped and +believed the worst of the sickness was over. +The cold weather was coming on; and, perhaps, +he said with a smile, it might be a comfort +to some of them to know that the comet +was going away. He could not say for himself +that he should not be sorry when it disappeared; +for he thought it a very beautiful +sight, and one which reminded every eye that +saw it how ‘the heavens declare the glory of +God;’ and the wisest men were all agreed +that it was a sign,—not of any mischief, but +of the beauty of God’s handiwork in the firmament, +as the Scriptures call the starry sky. +The fact was, it was found that comets come +round regularly, like some of the other stars +and our own moon; and when a comet had +once been seen, people of a future time would +know when to look for it again, and would be +too wise to be afraid of it. But he had better +tell them about such things at another time, +when perhaps they would let their children +come up to his house, and look through a +telescope,—a glass that magnified things so +much, that when they saw the stars, they +would hardly believe they were the same +stars that they saw every clear night. Perhaps +they might then think the commonest +star as wonderful as any comet. Another +reason why they might hope for better health +was, that people at a distance now knew +more of the distress of Bleaburn than they +had done; and he could assure his neighbours, +that supplies of nourishing food and +wholesome clothing would be lodged with the +cordon till the people of the place could once +more earn their own living. Another reason +why they might hope for better health was, +that they were learning by experience what +was good for health and what was bad. This +was a very serious and important subject, on +which he would speak to them again and +again, on Sundays and at all times, till he had +shown them what he thought about their +having, he might almost say, their lives and +health in their own hands. He was sure that +God had ordered it so; and he expected to be +able to prove to them, by and by, that there +need be no fever in Bleaburn if they chose to +prevent it. And now, about these Sundays +and week days. He deeply pitied them that +they had been cut off from worship during +their time of distress. He thought there +might be an end to that now. He would not +advise their assembling in the church. There +were the same reasons against it that there +were two months ago; but there was no place +on earth where men might not worship God, +if they wished it. If it were now the middle +of summer, he should say that the spot they +were standing on,—even yet so fresh and so +sunny,—was the best they could have; but +soon the winter winds would blow, and the +cold rains would come driving over the hills. +This would not do: but there was a warm +nook in the hollow,—the crag behind the +mill,—where there was shelter from the east +and north, and the warmest sunshine ever felt +in the hollow,—too hot in summer, but very +pleasant now. There he proposed to read +prayers three times a week, at an hour which +should be arranged according to the convenience +of the greatest number; and there he +would perform service and preach a sermon +on Sundays, when the weather permitted. +He should have been inclined to ask Farmer +Neale for one of his barns, or to propose to +meet even in his kitchen; but he found his +neighbours still feared that meeting anywhere +but in the open air would spread the fever. +He did not himself believe that one person +gave the fever to another; but as long as his +neighbours thought so, he would not ask them +to do what might make them afraid. Then +there was a settling what hours should be +appointed for worship at the crag; and the +mourners came trooping down into the hollow, +with brightened eyes, and freshened faces, and +altogether much less like mourners than when +they went up.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Before night, Mr. Kirby had visited every +sick person in the place, in company with the +doctor. The poor doctor would hardly have +ventured to go his round without the assistance +of some novelty that might divert the +attention of the people from his atrocities. +Mr. Kirby did not attempt to get rid of the +subject. He told the discontented, to their +faces, that the doctor knew his business better +than they did; and bade them remember that +it was not the doctor but themselves that had +set fire to spirits of wine, or something of that +sort, in the middle of the street, whereby a +woman was in imminent danger of being burnt +to death; and that their outrage on the good +fame and property of a gentleman who had +worn himself half dead with fatigue and +anxiety on their account might yet cost them +very dear, if it were not understood that they +were so oppressed with sorrow and want that +they did not know what they were about. +His consultations with the doctor from house +to house, and his evident deference to him in +regard to matters of health and sickness, +wrought a great change in a few hours; and +the effect was prodigiously increased when +Mrs. Kirby, herself a surgeon’s daughter, and +no stranger in a surgery, offered her daily +assistance in making up the medicines, and +administering such as might be misused by +those who could not read the labels.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“That is what the Good Lady does, when +she can get out at the right time,” observed +some one; “but now poor Jem is down, and +his mother hardly up again yet, it is not every +day, as she says, that she can go so far out of call.”</p> + +<p class='c005'><span class='pageno' id='Page_259'>259</span>“Who is this Good Lady?” inquired Mr. +Kirby. “I have been hardly twenty-four +hours in this place, and I seem to have heard +her name fifty times; and yet nobody seems +able to say who she is.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“She almost overpowers their faculties, I +believe,” replied the doctor; “and, indeed, it +is not very easy to look upon her as upon any +other young lady. It comes easier to one’s +tongue to call her an angel than to introduce +her as Miss Mary Pickard, from America.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>When he had told what he knew of her, +the Kirbys said, in the same breath,</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Let us go and see her.” And the doctor +showed them the way to Widow Johnson’s, +where poor Jem was languishing, in that +state which is so affecting to witness, when +he who has no intellect seems to have more +power of patience than he who has most. +The visitors arrived at a critical moment, +however, when poor Jem’s distress was very +great, and his mother’s hardly less. There +lay the Good Lady on the ground, doubled up +in a strange sort of way; Mrs. Johnson trying +to go to her, but unable; and Jem, on his bed +in the closet within, crying because something +was clearly the matter.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“What’s to do now?” exclaimed the +doctor.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Mary laughed as she answered, “O nothing, +but that I can’t get up. I don’t know how I +fell, and I can’t get up. But it is mere fatigue—want +of sleep. Do convince Aunty that I +have not got the fever.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Let’s see,” said the doctor. Then, after +a short study of his new patient, he assured +Mrs. Johnson that he saw no signs of fever +about her niece. She had had enough of +nursing for the present, and now she must +have rest.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“That is just it,” said Mary. “If somebody +will put something under me here, and +just let me sleep for a few days, I shall do +very well.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Not there, Miss Pickard,” said Mrs. +Kirby, “you must be brought to our house, +where everything will be quiet about you; +and then you may sleep on till Christmas, if +you will.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>Mary felt the kindness; but she evidently +preferred remaining where she was; and, with +due consideration, she was indulged. She +did not wish to be carried through the street, +so that the people might see that the Good +Lady was down at last; and besides, she felt +as if she should die by the way, though really +believing she should do very well if only let +alone. She was allowed to order things just as +she liked. A mattress was put under her, on +the floor. Ann Warrender came and undressed +her, lifting her limbs as if she was an infant, +for she could not move them herself; and +daily was she refreshed, as she had taught +others to refresh those who cannot move from +their beds. Every morning the doctor came, +and agreed with her that there was nothing +in the world the matter with her; that she +had only to lie still till she felt the wish to +get up; and every day came Mrs. Kirby to +take a look at her, if her eyes were closed: +and if she was able to talk and listen, to tell +her how the sick were faring, and what were +the prospects of Bleaburn. After these visits, +something good was often found near the +pillow; some firm jelly, or particularly pure +arrow-root, or the like; odd things to be +dropped by the fairies; but Mrs. Kirby said +the neighbours liked to think that the Good +Lady was waited on by the Good People.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Another odd thing was, that for several +days Mary could not sleep at all. She would +have liked it, and she needed it extremely, +and the window curtain was drawn, and +everybody was very quiet, and even poor +Jem caught the trick of quietness, and lay +immoveable for hours, when the door of his +closet was open, watching to see her sleep. +But she could not. She felt, what was indeed +true, that Aunty’s large black eyes were for +ever fixed upon her; and she could not but be +aware that the matter of the very first public +concern in Bleaburn was, that she should go +to sleep; and this was enough to prevent it. +At last, when people were getting frightened, +and even the doctor told Mr. Kirby that he +should be glad to correct this insomnolence, +the news went softly along the street one day, +told in whispers even at the further end, that +the Good Lady was asleep. The children +were warned that they must keep within +doors, or go up to the brow to play; there +must be no noise in the hollow. The dogs +were not allowed to bark, nor the ducks to +quack; and Farmer Neale’s carts were, on no +account, to go below the Plough and Harrow. +The patience of all persons who liked to make +a noise was tried and proved, for nobody +broke the rule; and when Mary once began +sleeping, it seemed as if she would never stop. +She could hardly keep awake to eat, or to be +washed; and, as for having her hair brushed, +that is always drowsy work, and she could +never look before her for two minutes together +while it was done. She thought it all very +ridiculous, and laughed at her own laziness, +and then, before the smile was off her lips, she +had sunk on her pillow and was asleep again.</p> + +<h3 class='c009'><span class='c014'>PART III.</span><br> CHAPTER VII.</h3> + +<p class='c008'>It was a regular business now for three or +four of the boys of Bleaburn to go up to the +brow every morning to bring down the stores +from O——, which were daily left there under +the care of the watch. Mr. Kirby had great +influence already with the boys of Bleaburn. +He found plenty for them to do, and, when +they were very hungry with running about, +he gave them wholesome food to satisfy their +healthy appetite. He said, he and Mrs. Kirby +and the doctor worked hard, and they could not +let anybody be idle but those who were ill: and, +now that the regular work and wages of the +place were suspended, he arranged matters +<span class='pageno' id='Page_260'>260</span>after his own sense of the needs of the people. +The boys who survived and were in health, +formed a sort of regiment under his orders, and +they certainly never liked work so well before. +Every little fellow felt his own consequence, +and was aware of his own responsibility. A +certain number, as has been said, went up to +the brow to bring down the stores. A certain +number were to succeed each other at the +doctor’s door, from hour to hour, to carry +medicines, that the sick might neither be +kept waiting, nor be liable to be served with +the wrong medicine, from too many sorts +being carried in a basket together. Others +attended upon Warrender, with pail and +brush, and helped him with his lime-washing. +At first it was difficult, as has been said, to +induce the lads to volunteer for this service, +and Mr. Kirby directed much argument and +persuasion towards their supposed fear of +entering the cottages where people were +lying sick. This was not the reason, however, +as Warrender explained, with downcast eyes, +when Mr. Kirby wondered what ailed the +lads, that they ran all sorts of dangers all +day long, and shirked this one.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“’Tis not the danger, I fancy, Sir,” said +Warrender; “they are not so much afraid of +the fever as of going with me, I’m sorry to say.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Afraid of you!” said Mr. Kirby, laughing. +“What harm could you do them?”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“’Tis my temper, Sir, I’m afraid.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“What is the matter with your temper? I +see nothing amiss with it.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“And I hope you never may, Sir: but I +can’t answer for myself, though at this +moment I know the folly of such passion as +these lads have seen in me. Sir, it has been +my way to be violent with them; and I don’t +wonder they slink away from me. But—”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“I am really quite surprised,” said Mr. +Kirby. “This is all news to me. I should have +said you were a remarkably staid, quiet, persevering +man; and, I am sure, very kind +hearted.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“You have seen us all at such a time, you +know, Sir! It is not only the misfortunes of +the time that sober us, but when there is +so much to do for one’s neighbours, one’s +mind does not want to be in a passion—so to +speak.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Very true. The best part of us is roused, +and puts down the worse. I quite agree with +you, Warrender.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>The boys were not long in learning that +there was nothing now to fear from Warrender. +No one was sent staggering from a +box on the ear. No hair was ever pulled; +nor was any boy ever shaken in his jacket. +Instead of doing such things, Warrender +made companions of his young assistants, +taught them to do well whatever they put +their hands to, and made them willing and +happy. While two or three thus waited on +him, others carried home the clean linen that +his daughter and a neighbour or two were +frequently ready to send out: and they daily +changed the water in the tubs where the foul +linen was deposited. Others, again, swept +and washed down the long steep street, +making it look almost as clean as if it belonged +to a Dutch village. After the autumn +pig-killing, there were few or no more pigs. +The poor sufferers could not attend to them; +could not afford, indeed, to buy them; and +had scarcely any food to give them. Though +this was a token of poverty, it was hardly to +be lamented in itself, under the circumstances; +for there is no foulness whatever, no nastiness +that is to be found among the abodes of men, +so dangerous to health as that of pig-styes. +There is mismanagement in this. People +take for granted that the pig is a dirty animal, +and give him no chance of being clean; +whereas, if they would try the experiment of +keeping his house swept, and putting his food +always in one place, and washing him with +soap and water once a week, they would find +that he knows how to keep his pavement +clean, and that he runs grunting to meet his +washing with a satisfaction not to be mistaken. +Such was the conclusion of the boys +who undertook the purification of the two or +three pigs that remained in Bleaburn. As +for the empty styes, they were cleaner than +many of the cottages. After a conversation +with Mr. Kirby, Farmer Neale bought all the +dirt-heaps for manure; and in a few days +they were all trundled away in barrows—even +to the stable-manure from the Plough +and Harrow—and heaped together at the +farm, and well shut down with a casing of +earth, beat firm with spades. Boys really +like such work as this, when they are put +upon it in the right way. They were less +dirty than they would have been with tumbling +about and quarrelling and cuffing in the filthy +street; in a finer glow of exercise; with a +more wholesome appetite; and far more +satisfaction in eating, because they had earned +their food. Moreover, they began to feel +themselves little friends of the grown people—of +Mr. and Mrs. Kirby, and the Doctor, +and the Warrenders—instead of a sort of +reptiles, or other plague; and Mr. Kirby +astonished them so by a bit of amusement +now and then, when he had time, that they +would have called him a conjuror, if he had +not been a clergyman. He made a star—any +star they pleased—as large as the comet, just +by making them look at it through a tube; +and he showed them how he took a drop of +foul water from a stinking pool, and put it +between glasses in a hole in his window-shutter; +and how the drop became like a +pond, and was found to be swarming with +loathsome live creatures, swimming about, +and trying to swallow each other. After +these exhibitions, it is true the comet seemed +much less wonderful and terrible than before; +but then the drop of water was infinitely more +so. The lads studied Mr. Kirby’s cistern—so +carefully covered, and so regularly cleaned +out; and they learned how the water he +<span class='pageno' id='Page_261'>261</span>drank at dinner was filtered; and then they +went and scoured out the few water-tubs +there were in the village, and consulted their +neighbours as to how the public of Bleaburn +could be persuaded not to throw filth and +refuse into the stream at the upper part, +defiling it for those who lived lower down.</p> + +<p class='c005'>One morning at the beginning of December—on +such a morning as was now sadly frequent, +drizzly, and far too warm for the +season—the lads who went up to the brow +saw the same sight that had been visible in +the same place one evening in the preceding +August. There was a chaise, and an anxious +post-boy, and a lady talking with one of the +cordon. Mr. Kirby had learned what friends +Mary Pickard had in England, and which of +them lived nearest, and he had taken the +liberty of writing to declare the condition of +the Good Lady. His letter brought the +friend, Mrs. Henderson, who came charged +with affectionate messages to Mary from her +young daughters, and a fixed determination +not to return without the invalid.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“To think,” as she said to Mary when she +appeared by the side of her mattress, “that +you should be in England, suffering in this +way, and we not have any idea what you were +going through!”</p> + +<p class='c005'>Mary smiled, and said she had gone through +nothing terrible on her own account. She +might have been at Mr. Kirby’s for three +weeks past, but that she really preferred being +where she was.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Do not ask her now, Madam, where she +likes to be,” said Mr. Kirby, who had been +brought down the street by the bustle of a +stranger’s arrival. “Do not consult her at +all, but take her away, and nurse her well.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Yes,” said the Doctor; “lay her in a good +air, and let her sleep, and feed her well; and +she will soon come round. She is better—even +here.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Madam,” said Widow Johnson’s feeble +but steady voice, “be to her what she has +been to us; raise her up to what she was +when I first heard her step upon those stairs, +and we shall say you deserve to be her friend.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“You will go, will not you?” whispered +Mrs. Kirby to Mary. “You will let us +manage it all for you?”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Do what you please with me,” was the +reply. “You know best how to get me well +soonest. Only let me tell Aunty that I will +come again, as soon as I am able.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Better not,” said the prudent Mrs. Kirby. +“There is no saying what may be the condition +of this place by the spring. And it might +keep Mrs. Johnson in a state of expectation +not fit for one so feeble. Better not.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Very well,” said Mary.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Mrs. Kirby thought of something that her +husband had said of Mary; that he had never +seen any one with such power of will and +command so docile. She merely promised +her aunt frequent news of her; agreed with +those who doubted whether she could bear +the jolting of any kind of carriage on the road +up to the brow; admitted that, though she +could now stand, she could not walk across +the room; allowed herself to be carried on +her mattress in a carpet, by four men, up to +the chaise; and nodded in reply to a remark +made by one little girl to another in the +street, and which the doctor wished she had +not heard, that she looked “rarely bad.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>The landlady at O—— seemed, by her +countenance, to have much the same opinion +of Mary’s looks, when she herself brought +out the glass of wine, for which Mrs. Henderson +stopped her chaise at the door of the +Cross Keys. The landlady brought it herself, +because none of her people would give as +much as a glass of cold water, hand to hand +with any one who came from Bleaburn. The +landlady stood shaking her head, and saying +she had done the best she could; she had +warned the young lady in time.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“But you were quite out in your warning,” +said Mary. “You were sure I should have +the fever: but I have not.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“You have not!”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“I have had no disease—no complaint +whatever. I am only weak from fatigue.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“It is quite true,” said Mrs. Henderson, +as the hostess turned to her for confirmation. +“Good wine like this, the fresh air of our +moors, and the easy sleep that comes to +Good Ladies like her, are the only medicines +she wants.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>The landlady curtsied low—said the payment +made should supply a glass of wine to +somebody at Bleaburn, and bade the driver +proceed. After a mile or two, he turned his +head, touched his hat, and directed the ladies’ +attention to a bottle of wine, with loosened +cork, and a cup which the hostess had contrived +to smuggle into the pocket of the +chaise. She was sure the young lady would +want some wine before they stopped.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“How kind every body is!” said Mary, +with swimming eyes. Mrs. Henderson cleared +her throat, and looked out of the window on +her side.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c003'>YOUNG RUSSIA.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c004'>Certain social theorists have, of late years, +proclaimed themselves to the puzzled public +under the name and signification of ‘Young.’ +Young France, Young Germany, and Young +England have had their day, and having now +grown older, and by consequence wiser, are +comparatively mute. In accordance with +what seems a natural law, it is only when a +fashion is being forgotten where it originated—in +the west—that it reaches Russia, which +rigidly keeps a century or so behind the rest +of the Continent. It is only recently, therefore, +that we hear of ‘Young Russia.’</p> + +<p class='c005'>The main principles of all these national +youths are alike. They are pleasingly picturesque—simperingly +amiable; with a pretty +and piquant dash of paradox. What they +<span class='pageno' id='Page_262'>262</span>propose is not new birth, or dashing out +into new systems, and taking advantage of +new ideas; but reverting to old systems, and +furbishing them up so as to look as good +as new. Re-juvenescence is their aim; the +middle ages their motto. Young England, to +wit, desires to replace things as they were in +the days of the pack-horse, the thumb-screw, +the monastery, the ducking-stool, the knight +errant, trial by battle, and the donjon-keep. +To these he wishes to apply all possible +modern improvements, to adapt them to +present ideas, and to present events. Though +he would have no objection to his mailed +knight travelling per first-class railway, he +would abolish luggage-trains to encourage +intestine trade and the breed of that noble +animal the pack-horse. He has indeed done +something in the monastic line; but his efforts +for the dissemination of superstition, and his +denunciations of a certain sort of witchcraft, +have signally failed. In truth, the task he +has set himself—that of re-constructing society +anew out of old materials—though highly +archæological, historical, and poetic, has the +fatal disadvantage of being simply impossible. +It is telling the people of the nineteenth +century to carry their minds, habits, and +sentiments back, so as to become people of +the thirteenth century; it is trying to make +new muslin out of mummy cloth, or razors +out of rusty nails.</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Young Russia’ is an equal absurdity, but +from a precisely opposite cause; for, indeed, +this sort of youth out of age is a series of +paradoxes. The Russian of the present day +<i>is</i> the Russian of past ages. He exists by rule—the +rule of despotism—which is as old as +the Medes and Persians; and which forces +him into an iron mould that shapes his appearance, +his mind, and his actions, to one +pattern, from one generation to another. +Hence everything that lives and breathes in +Russia being antique, there is no appreciable +antiquity. The new school, therefore—even +if amateur politics were allowable in Russia, +which they are not, as a large population of +exiles in Siberia can testify—has no materials +to work upon. Stagnation is the political +law, and Young Russia dies in its babyhood for +want of sustenance. What goes by the name +of civilisation, is no advance in wealth, morals, +or social happiness. It is merely a tinsel coating +over the rottenness and rust with which +Russian life is ‘sicklied o’er.’ It has nothing +to do with a single soul below the rank of a +noble; and with him it means champagne, bad +pictures, Parisian tailors, operas, gaming, and +other expences and elegancies imported from +the West. Hundreds of provincial noblemen +are ruined every year in St. Petersburg, in +undergoing this process of civilisation. The +fortunes thus wasted are enormous; yet there +is only one railroad now in operation throughout +the whole empire, and that belongs to the +Emperor, and leads to one of his palaces a +few miles from the Capital. Such is Russian +civilisation. What then is Young Russia to +do? Ask one of its youngest apostles, Ivan +Vassilievitsch.</p> + +<p class='c005'>This young gentleman—for an introduction +to whom we are indebted to Count Sollogub—was, +not long ago, parading the Iverskoy +boulevard—one of the thirteen which half +encircle Moscow—when he met a neighbour +from the province of Kazan. Ivan had lately +returned from abroad. He was a perfect +specimen of the new school, inside and out. +Within, he had imbibed all the ideas of the +juvenile or verdant schools of Germany, +France, and England. Without, he displayed +a London macintosh; his coat and trowsers +had been designed and executed by Parisian +artists; his hair was cut in the style of the +middle ages; and his chin showed the remnants +of a Vandyke beard. He also resembled +the new school in another respect: +he had spent all his money, yet he was separated +from home by the distance of a long—a +Russian—journey.</p> + +<p class='c005'>To meet with a neighbour—which he did—who +travelled in his own carriage, in which he +offered a seat, was the height of good fortune. +The more so, as Ivan wished to see as much of +Russian life on the road as possible, and to note +down his <i>impressions</i> in a journal, whose white +leaves were as yet unsullied with ink. From +the information he intended to collect, he +intended to commence helping to reconstruct +Russian society after the order of the new +Russiaites.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The vehicle in which this great mission +was to be performed, was a humble family +affair called a <i>Tarantas</i>.<a id='r1'></a><a href='#f1' class='c015'><sup>[1]</sup></a> After a series of +adventures—but which did not furnish Ivan a +single <i>impression</i> for his note-book—they +arrive at Vladimir, the capital of a province +or ‘government.’ Here the younger traveller +meets with a friend, to whom he confides +his intention of visiting all the other Government +towns for ‘Young Russia’ purposes. +His friend’s reply is dispiriting to the last +degree:—</p> + +<div class='footnote' id='f1'> +<p class='c005'><a href='#r1'>1</a>. For further particulars of this comfortable conveyance, +its occupants, and their adventures, we must refer the +reader to Count Sollogub’s amusing little book, to which +he has given the name of ‘The Tarantas.’</p> +</div> + +<p class='c005'>“There is no difference between our government +towns. See one, and you’ll know them +all!”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Is it possible?”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“It is so, I assure you, Every one has a +High-street; one principal shop, where the +country gentlemen buy silks for their wives, +and champagne for themselves; then there +are the Courts of Justice, the assembly-rooms, +an apothecary’s shop, a river, a square, a bazaar, +two or three street-lamps, sentry-boxes +for the watchmen, and the governor’s house.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“The society, however, in the government +towns must be different?”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“On the contrary. The society is still more +uniform than the buildings.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“You astonish me: how is that?”</p> + +<p class='c005'><span class='pageno' id='Page_263'>263</span>“Listen. There is, of course, in every government +town a governor. These do not +always resemble each other; but as soon as +any one of them appears, police and secretaries +immediately become active, merchants +and tradesmen bow, and the gentry draw +themselves up, with, however, some little awe. +Wherever the governor goes, he is sure to find +champagne, the wine so much patronised in +the province, and everybody drinks a bumper +to the health of the ‘<i>father of the province</i>.’ +Governors generally are well-bred, and sometimes +very proud. They like to give dinner +parties, and benevolently condescend to play +a game of whist with rich brandy-contractors +and landowners.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“That’s a common thing,” remarked Ivan +Vassilievitsch.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Do not interrupt me. Besides the governor, +there is in nearly every government town +the governor’s lady. She is rather a peculiar +personage. Generally brought up in one of +the two capitals, and spoiled with the cringing +attentions of her company. On her husband’s +first entry into office, she is polite and affable; +later, she begins to feel weary of the ordinary +provincial intrigues and gossips; she gets +accustomed to the slavish attentions she receives, +and lays claim to them. At this period +she surrounds herself with a parasitical suite; +she quarrels with the lady of the vice-governor; +she brags of St. Petersburg; speaks with disdain +of her provincial circle, and finally draws +upon herself the utmost universal ill-feeling, +which is kept up till the day of her departure, +when all goes into oblivion, everything is pardoned, +and everybody bids her farewell with +tears.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Two persons do not form the whole +society of a town,” interrupted again Ivan +Vassilievitsch.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Patience, brother, patience! Certainly +there are other persons besides the two I have +just spoken of: there is the vice-governor and +his lady; several presidents, with their respective +ladies, and an innumerable crowd of +functionaries serving under their leadership. +The ladies are ever quarrelling in words, +whilst their husbands do the same thing upon +foolscap. The presidents, for the most part, +are men of advanced age and business-like +habits, with great crosses hanging from their +necks, and are during the daytime to be seen +out of their courts only on holidays. The +government attorney is generally a single +man, and an enviable match. The superior +officer of the <i>gens-d’armes</i> is a ‘good fellow.’ +The nobility-marshal a great sportsman. Besides +the government and the local officers, +there live in a government town stingy landowners, +or those who have squandered away +their property; they gamble from evening to +morning, nay, from morning to evening too, +without getting the least bit tired of their +exercise.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Now, about the mode of living?” asked +Ivan Vassilievitsch.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“The mode of living is a very dull one. +An exchange of ceremonious visits. Intrigues, +cards—cards, intrigues. Now and then, perchance, +you may meet with a kind, hospitable +family, but such a case is very rare; you much +oftener find a ludicrous affectation to imitate +the manners of an imaginary high life. There +are no public amusements in a government +town. During winter a series of balls are +announced to take place at the Assembly-rooms; +however, from an absurd primness, +these balls are little frequented, because no +one wants to be the first in the room. The +‘<i>bon genre</i>’ remains at home and plays whist. +In general, I have remarked, that on arriving +in a government town, it seems as if you were +too early or too late for some extraordinary +event. You are ever welcomed: ‘What a +pity you were not here yesterday!’ or, ‘You +should stay here till to-morrow.’”</p> + +<p class='c005'>In process of time Ivan Vassilievitsch and +his good-natured fat companion, Vassily +Ivanovitsch, reach a borough town, where the +Tarantas breaks down. There is a tavern and +here is a description of it.</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘The tavern was like any other tavern,—a +large wooden hut, with the usual out-buildings. +At the entrance stood an empty cart. +The staircase was crooked and shaky, and at +the top of it, like a moving candelabrum, stood +a waiter with a tallow candle in his hand. To +the right was the tap-room, painted from time +immemorial to imitate a grove. Tumblers, +tea-pots, decanters, three silver and a great +number of pewter spoons, adorned the shelves +of a cupboard; a couple of lads in chintz +shirts, with dirty napkins over their shoulders, +busied themselves at the bar. Through an +open door you saw in the next room a billiard +table, and a hen gravely promenading upon it.</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Our travellers were conducted into the principal +room of this elegant establishment, where +they found, seated round a boiling tea-urn, +three merchants,—one grey-haired, one red-haired, +and one dark-haired. Each of these +was armed with a steaming tumbler; each of +them sipped, smacked his lips, stroked his +beard and sipped again the fragrant beverage.</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘The red-haired man was saying:—’</p> + +<p class='c005'>“I made, last summer, a splendid bargain: +I had bought from a company of Samara-Tartars, +some five hundred bags of prime +quality, and had at the same time a similar +quantity, which I purchased from a nobleman +who was in want of money, but such dreadful +stuff it was, that if it had not been for the +very low price, I would never have thought +of looking at it. What did I do? I mixed +these two cargoes, and sold the whole lot to a +brandy-contractor at Ribna, for prime quality.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“It was a clever speculation,” remarked +the dark-haired.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“A commercial trick!” added the grey-haired.</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Whilst this conversation was proceeding, +Vassily Ivanovitsch and Ivan Vassilievitsch +<span class='pageno' id='Page_264'>264</span>had taken seats at a separate little table; +they had ordered their tea, and were listening +to what the three merchants were saying.</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘A poor looking fellow came in and took +from his breast-pocket an incredibly dirty +sheet of paper, in which were wrapped up +bank-notes and some gold, and handed it over +to the grey-haired merchant, who, having +counted them over, said:’</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Five thousand, two hundred and seventeen +roubles. Is it right?”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Quite right, Sir.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“It shall be delivered according to your +wish.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘Ivan asked why the sender had not taken a +receipt?</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘The red and dark-haired merchants burst +out laughing; the grey-haired got into a +passion.’</p> + +<p class='c005'>“A receipt!” he cried out furiously, “a +receipt! I would have broken his jaw with +his own money had he dared to ask me for a +receipt. I have been a merchant now more +than fifty years, and I have never yet been +insulted by being asked to give a receipt.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“You see, Sir,” said the red-haired merchant, +“it is only with noblemen that such +things as receipts and bills of exchange exist. +We commercial people do not make use of +them. Our simple word suffices. We have +no time to spare for writing. For instance, +Sir: here is Sidor Avdeievitsch, who has +millions of roubles in his trade, and his whole +writing consists of a few scraps of paper, for +memory’s sake, Sir.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“I don’t understand that,” interrupted Ivan +Vassilievitsch.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“How could you, Sir? It is mere commercial +business, without plan or <i>façade</i>. +We ourselves learn it from our childhood: +first as errand-boys, then as clerks, till we +become partners in the business. I confess it +is hard work.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>Upon this text Ivan preaches a ‘Young +Russia discourse.’</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Allow me a few words,” he said with +fervour. “It appears to me that we have in +Russia a great number of persons buying and +selling, but yet, I must say, we have no systematic +commerce. For commerce, science and +learning are indispensable; a conflux of civilised +men, clever mathematical calculations—but +not, as seems to be the case with you, +dependence upon mere chance. You earn +millions, because you convert the consumer +into a victim, against whom every kind of +cheat is pardonable, and then you lay by +farthing by farthing, refusing yourselves +not only all the enjoyments of life, but +even the most necessary comforts.... You +brag of your threadbare clothes; but surely +this extreme parsimony is a thousand times +more blameable than the opposite prodigality +of those of your comrades who spend their +time amongst gipsies, and their money in +feasting. You boast of your ignorance, because +you do not know what civilisation is. +Civilisation, according to your notions, consists +in shorter laps of a coat, foreign furniture, +bronzes, and champagne—in a word, +in outward trifles and silly customs. Trust +me, not such is civilisation.... Unite yourselves! +Be it your vocation to lay open all +the hidden riches of our great country; to +diffuse life and vigour into all its veins; to +take the whole management of its material +interests into your hands. Unite your endeavours +in this beautiful deed, and you may be +certain of success! Why should Russia be +worse than England? Comprehend only +your calling; let the beam of civilisation fall +upon you, and your love for your fatherland +will strengthen such a union; and you will +see that not only the whole of Russia, but +even the whole world will be in your hands.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>‘At this eloquent conclusion, the red and +the dark-haired merchants opened wide their +eyes. They, of course, did not understand a +single word of Ivan Vassilievitsch’s speech.’</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Alas, for Young Russia,” Ivan dolefully +remarks in another place;—</p> + +<p class='c005'>“I thought to study life in the provinces: +there is no life in the provinces: every one +there is said to be of the same cut. Life in +the capitals is not a Russian life, but a weak +imitation of the petty perfections and gross +vices of modern civilisation. Where am I +then to find Russia? In the lower classes, +perhaps, in the every-day life of the Russian +peasant? But have I not been now for five +days chiefly amongst this class? I prick up +my ears and listen; I open wide my eyes and +look, and do what I may, I find not the least +trifle worth noting in my ‘<cite>Impressions</cite>.’ The +country is dead; there is nothing but land, +land, land; so much land, indeed, that my +eyes get tired of looking at it; a dreadful +road—waggons of goods, swearing carriers, +drunken stage-inspectors; beetles creeping on +every wall; soups with the smell of tallow-candles! +How is it possible for any respectable +person to occupy himself with such +nasty stuff? And what is yet more provoking, +is the doleful uniformity which tires you +so much, and affords you no rest whatever. +Nothing new, nothing unexpected! To-morrow +what has been to-day; to-day what +has been yesterday. Here, a post-stage, there +again a post-stage, and further the same post-stage +again; here, a village-elder asking for +drink-money, and again to infinity village-elders +all asking for drink-money. What +can I write? I begin to agree with Vassily +Ivanovitsch; he is right in saying that we do +not travel, and that there is no travelling in +Russia. We simply are going to Mordassy. +Alas! for my ‘<cite>Impressions</cite>.’”</p> + +<p class='c005'>Whoever wants to know more of this amusing +Young Russian, must consult “The <i>Tarantas</i>.” +We can assure the reader that the +book is fraught with a store of amusement—chiefly +descriptions of town and country life in +Russia—not often compressed into the modest +and inexpensive compass of a thin duodecimo.</p> +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c016'> +</div> +<div class='tnotes x-ebookmaker'> + +<div class='chapter ph2'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c017'> + <div>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + + <ul class='ul_1 c001'> + <li>Fixed typos; non-standard spelling and dialect retained. + + </li> + <li>Renumbered footnotes. + </li> + </ul> + +</div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78176 ***</div> + </body> + <!-- created with ppgen.py 3.57i (with regex) on 2026-03-11 09:24:59 GMT --> +</html> diff --git a/78176-h/images/cover.jpg b/78176-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..242ca0a --- /dev/null +++ b/78176-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d78b6a9 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for eBook #78176 +(https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/78176) |
