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diff --git a/78178-h/78178-h.htm b/78178-h/78178-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..101f0a5 --- /dev/null +++ b/78178-h/78178-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3657 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> + <head> + <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title>Household Words, No. 14, June 29, 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; 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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 78178 ***</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_313'>313</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> 14.]      SATURDAY, JUNE 29, 1850.      [<span class='sc'>Price</span> 2<i>d.</i></div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c003'>THE GOLDEN CITY.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c004'>“The fitful flame of Young Romance,” fed +by the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments, +Fairy tales and Heathen Mythologies; the +wonderful fables of Genii and Magicians; +stories of towns springing up, ready-built, out +of deserts; tales of cities paved with gold; the +Happy Valley of Rasselas; the territories of +Oberon and Titania, Robert Owen’s New +Harmony, and the land of Cockaigne; Gulliver’s +Travels, the Adventures of Peter +Wilkins, legends of beggars made kings, and +mendicants millionaires; Sinbad the Sailor, +Baron Munchausen, Law of Laurieston, Major +Longbow, Colonel Crocket, the Poyais loan; +illimitable exaggeration; undaunted lying; +the most rampant schemes of the most rabid +speculators; the wildest visions of the maddest +poet; the airiest castle of the most Utopian +lunatic—any one of these, and all of them +put together, do not exceed the wondrous +web of realities that is being daily woven +around both hemispheres of the globe. Not +to mention conversations carried on thousands +of miles apart, by means of electricity, and a +hundred other marvels that Science has converted +into commonplaces, we would now +confine ourselves to the latest “wonderful +wonder that has ever been wondered at”—the +gold region of California; but more +especially to its capital, San Francisco.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The story of the magic growth of this city +would have defied belief, had it not rapidly +grown up literally under the “eyes of Europe.” +When the returns were made to the United +States’ authorities in 1831, it contained three +hundred and seventy-one individuals, and very +few more resided in it up to the discovery of +gold at Sutter’s Mill, in the Sacramento River. +Even in April, 1849, we learn from a credible +eye-witness, that there were only from thirty +to forty houses in San Francisco; and that +the population was so small, that so many as +twenty-five persons could never be seen out +of doors at one time. There now lie before +us two prints; one of San Francisco, taken in +November, 1848, soon after the discovery was +made, and another exactly a year afterwards. +In the first, we are able to count twenty-six +huts and other dwellings dotted about at +uneven distances, and four small ships in +the harbour. In the second, the habitations +are countless. The hollow, upon which the city +partly stands, presents a bird’s-eye view of +roofs, packed so closely together, that the houses +they cover are innumerable; while the sides of +the surrounding hills are thickly strewed with +tents and temporary dwellings. On every +side are buildings of all kinds, begun or +half-finished, but the greater part of them +mere canvas sheds, open in front, and displaying +all sorts of signs, in all languages. +Great quantities of goods are piled up in the +open air, for want of a place to store them. +The streets are full of people, hurrying to and +fro, and of as diverse and bizarre a character +as the houses: Yankees of every possible +variety, native Californians in <i>sarapes</i> and +sombreros, Chilians, Sonorians, Kanakas from +Hawaii, Chinese with long tails, Malays and +others in whose embrowned and bearded +visages it is impossible to recognise any +especial nationality. In the midst is the +plaza, now dignified by the name of Portsmouth +Square. It lies on the slope of the +hill; and, from a high pole in front of a long +one-story adobe building used as the Custom +House, the American flag is flying. On the +lower side is the Parker House Hotel. The +Bay of San Francisco is black with the hulls +of ships, and a thick forest of masts intercepts +the landscapes of the opposite coast and the +islet of Yerba Buena. Flags of all nations +flutter in the breeze, and the smoke of three +steamers is borne away on its wings in dense +wreaths.—The first picture is one of stagnation +and poverty, the other presents activity and +wealth in glowing colours.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Verily,” says the correspondent of a Boston +Paper, “the place was in itself a marvel. +To say that it was daily enlarged by from +twenty to thirty houses may not sound very +remarkable after all the stories that have +been told; yet this, for a country which imported +both lumber and houses, and where +labour was then ten dollars a day, is an +extraordinary growth. The rapidity with +which a ready-made house is put up and +inhabited, strikes the stranger in San Francisco +as little short of magic. He walks over an +open lot in his before-breakfast stroll—the +next morning, a house complete, with a family +inside, blocks up his way. He goes down +to the bay and looks out on the shipping—two +or three days afterward a row of storehouses, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_314'>314</span>staring him in the face, intercepts the +view.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>An intelligent traveller from the United +States, has recorded his impressions of this +marvellous spot, as he saw it in August, +1849:—</p> + +<p class='c005'>“The restless, feverish tide of life in that +little spot, and the thought that what I then +saw and was yet to see will hereafter fill one +of the most marvellous pages of all history, +rendered it singularly impressive. The feeling +was not decreased on talking that evening +with some of the old residents, (that is of six +months’ standing,) and hearing their several +experiences. Every new comer in San +Francisco is overtaken with a sense of complete +bewilderment. The mind, however it +may be prepared for an astonishing condition +of affairs, cannot immediately push aside its +old instincts of value and ideas of business, +letting all past experiences go for nought and +casting all its faculties for action, intercourse +with its fellows, or advancement in any path +of ambition, into shapes which it never before +imagined. As in the turn of the dissolving +views, there is a period when it wears neither +the old nor the new phase, but the vanishing +images of the one and the growing perceptions +of the other are blended in painful and misty +confusion. One knows not whether he is +awake or in some wonderful dream. Never +have I had so much difficulty in establishing, +satisfactorily to my own senses, the reality of +what I saw and heard.”<a id='r1'></a><a href='#f1' class='c006'><sup>[1]</sup></a></p> + +<div class='footnote' id='f1'> +<p class='c005'><a href='#r1'>1</a>. “Eldorado,” by Bayard Taylor, correspondent to the +“Tribune” newspaper.</p> +</div> + +<p class='c005'>The same gentleman, after an absence in +the interior of four months, gives a notion +of the rapidity with which the city grew, in +the following terms:—</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Of all the marvellous phases of the history +of the Present, the growth of San Francisco is +the one which will most tax the belief of the +Future. Its parallel was never known, and +shall never be beheld again. I speak only of +what I saw with my own eyes. When I +landed there, a little more than four months +before, I found a scattering town of tents and +canvas houses, with a show of frame buildings +on one or two streets, and a population of +about six thousand. Now, on my last visit, I +saw around me an actual metropolis, displaying +street after street of well-built edifices, +filled with an active and enterprising people +and exhibiting every mark of permanent +commercial prosperity. Then, the town was +limited to the curve of the Bay fronting the +anchorage and bottoms of the hills. Now, it +stretched to the topmost heights, followed +the shore around point after point, and sending +back a long arm through a gap in the +hills, took hold of the Golden Gate and was +building its warehouses on the open strait +and almost fronting the blue horizon of the +Pacific. Then the gold-seeking sojourner +lodged in muslin rooms and canvas garrets, +with a philosophic lack of furniture, and ate +his simple though substantial fare from pine +boards. Now, lofty hotels, gaudy with +verandas and balconies, were met with in +all quarters, furnished with home luxury, +and aristocratic restaurants presented daily +their long bills of fare, rich with the choicest +technicalities of the Parisian cuisine. Then, +vessels were coming in day after day, to lie +deserted and useless at their anchorage. Now +scarce a day passed, but some cluster of sails, +bound <i>outward</i> through the Golden Gate, took +their way to all the corners of the Pacific. +Like the magic seed of the Indian juggler, +which grew, blossomed, and bore fruit before +the eyes of his spectators, San Francisco +seemed to have accomplished in a day the +growth of half a century.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>In San Francisco, everything is reversed. +The operations of trade are exactly opposite +to those of older communities. There the +rule is scarcity of money and abundance of +labour, produce, and manufactures; here +cash overflows out of every pocket, and the +necessaries of existence will not pour in fast +enough. Mr. Taylor tells us, that “a curious +result of the extraordinary abundance of +gold and the facility with which fortunes +were acquired, struck me at the first glance. +All business was transacted on so extensive +a scale that the ordinary habits of +solicitation and compliance on the one hand, +and stubborn cheapening on the other, seemed +to be entirely forgotten. You enter a shop +to buy something; the owner eyes you with +perfect indifference, waiting for you to state +your want: if you object to the price, you are +at liberty to leave, for you need not expect to +get it cheaper; he evidently cares little +whether you buy it or not. One who has +been some time in the country will lay down +the money, without wasting words. The only +exception I found to this rule was that of a +sharp-faced Down-Easter just opening his +stock, who was much distressed when his +clerk charged me seventy-five cents for a coil +of rope, instead of one dollar. This disregard +for all the petty arts of money-making was +really a refreshing feature of society. Another +equally agreeable trait was the punctuality +with which debts were paid, and the general +confidence which men were obliged to place, +perforce, in each other’s honesty. Perhaps +this latter fact was owing, in part, to the impossibility +of protecting wealth, and consequent +dependence on an honourable regard +for the rights of others.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>While this gentleman was in San Francisco, +an instance of the fairy-like manner in which +fortunes are accumulated, came under his +observation. A citizen of San Francisco died +insolvent to the amount of forty-one thousand +dollars the previous autumn. His administrators +were delayed in settling his affairs, and +his real estate advanced so rapidly in value +meantime, that after his debts were paid, his +heirs derived a yearly income from it of forty +thousand dollars!</p> + +<p class='c005'><span class='pageno' id='Page_315'>315</span>The fable of a city paved with gold is realised +in San Francisco. Mr. Taylor reports:—“Walking +through the town, I was quite +amazed to find a dozen persons busily employed +in the street before the United States +Hotel, digging up the earth with knives and +crumbling it in their hands. They were +actual gold-hunters, who obtained in this way +about five dollars a day. After blowing the +fine dirt carefully in their hands, a few specks +of gold were left, which they placed in a piece +of white paper. A number of children were +engaged in the same business, picking out the +fine grains by applying to them the head of a +pin, moistened in their mouths. I was told of +a small boy having taken home fourteen +dollars as the result of one day’s labour. On +climbing the hill to the Post Office I observed +in places, where the wind had swept away +the sand, several glittering dots of the real +metal, but, like the Irishman who kicked the +dollar out of his way, concluded to wait till I +should reach the heap. The presence of gold +in the streets was probably occasioned by the +leakings from the miners’ bags and the sweepings +of stores; though it may also be, to a +slight extent, native in the earth, particles +having been found in the clay thrown up from +a deep well.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>The prices paid for labour were at that +time equally <i>romantic</i>. The carman of one +firm (Messrs. Mellus, Howard, and Co.) drew +a salary of twelve hundred a year; and it +was no uncommon thing for such persons to +be paid from fifteen to twenty dollars, or between +three and four pounds sterling per day. +Servants were paid from forty to eighty +pounds per month. Since this time (August, +1849), however, wages had fallen; the labourers +for the rougher kinds of work could—poor +fellows—get no more than something +above the pay of a Lieutenant-Colonel in the +British army, or about four hundred per annum. +The scarcity of labour is best illustrated by the +cost of washing, which was one pound twelve +shillings per dozen. It was therefore found +cheaper to put out washing to the antipodes; +and to this day, San Francisco shirts are +washed and “got up” in China and the Sandwich +Islands. So many hundred dozens of +dirty, and so many hundred dozens of washed +linen form the part of every outward and +inward cargo to and from the Golden City.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The profits upon merchandise about the +time we are writing of, may be judged of by one +little transaction recorded by Mr. Taylor:—“Many +passengers,” he writes, “began speculation +at the moment of landing. The most +ingenious and successful operation was made +by a gentleman of New York, who took out +fifteen hundred copies of ‘The Tribune’ and +other papers, which he disposed of in two +hours, at one dollar a-piece! Hearing of this +I bethought me of about a dozen papers which +I had used to fill up crevices in packing my +valise. There was a newspaper merchant +at the corner of the City Hotel, and to him I +proposed the sale of them, asking him to name +a price. ‘I shall want to make a good profit +on the retail price,’ said he, ‘and can’t give +more than ten dollars for the lot.’ I was +satisfied with the wholesale price, which was +a gain of just four thousand per cent.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>The prices of food are enormous, and, unhappily, +so are the appetites; “for two months +after my arrival,” says a respectable authority, +“my sensations were like those of a famished +wolf;” yet the first glance at the tariff of a +San Francisco bill of fare is calculated to +turn the keenest European stomach. “Where +shall we dine to-day?” asked Mr. Taylor, +during his visit. “The restaurants display +their signs invitingly on all sides; we have +choice of the United States, Tortoni’s, the +Alhambra, and many other equally classic +resorts, but Delmonico’s, like its distinguished +original in New York, has the +highest prices and the greatest variety of +dishes. We go down Kearney Street to a +two-story wooden house on the corner of +Jackson. The lower story is a market; the +walls are garnished with quarters of beef and +mutton; a huge pile of Sandwich Island +squashes fills one corner, and several cabbage-heads, +valued at two dollars each, show themselves +in the window. We enter a little door +at the end of the building, ascend a dark, +narrow flight of steps and find ourselves in a +long, low room, with ceiling and walls of +white muslin and a floor covered with oil-cloth. +There are about twenty tables disposed in +two rows, all of them so well filled that we +have some difficulty in finding places. Taking +up the written bill of fare, we find such items +as the following:—</p> + +<table class='table0'> + <tr><th class='c007' colspan='3'>SOUPS.</th></tr> + <tr> + <th class='c008'></th> + <th class='c009'>Dol.</th> + <th class='c010'>Cents.</th> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'>Mock Turtle</td> + <td class='c011'>0</td> + <td class='c012'>75</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'>St. Julien</td> + <td class='c011'>1</td> + <td class='c012'>00</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'> </td> + <td class='c011'> </td> + <td class='c012'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <th class='c008'>FISH.</th> + <th class='c011'> </th> + <th class='c012'> </th> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'>Boiled Salmon Trout, Anchovy</td> + <td class='c011'> </td> + <td class='c012'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'>Sauce</td> + <td class='c011'>1</td> + <td class='c012'>75</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'> </td> + <td class='c011'> </td> + <td class='c012'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <th class='c008'>BOILED.</th> + <th class='c011'> </th> + <th class='c012'> </th> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'>Leg of Mutton, Caper Sauce</td> + <td class='c011'>1</td> + <td class='c012'>00</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'>Corned Beef, Cabbage</td> + <td class='c011'>1</td> + <td class='c012'>00</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'>Ham and Tongues</td> + <td class='c011'>0</td> + <td class='c012'>75</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'> </td> + <td class='c011'> </td> + <td class='c012'> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <th class='c008'>ENTRÉES.</th> + <th class='c011'> </th> + <th class='c012'> </th> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'>Fillet of Beef, Mushroom sauce</td> + <td class='c011'>1</td> + <td class='c012'>75</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'>Veal Cutlets, breaded</td> + <td class='c011'>1</td> + <td class='c012'>00</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'>Mutton Chop</td> + <td class='c011'>1</td> + <td class='c012'>00</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'>Lobster Salad</td> + <td class='c011'>2</td> + <td class='c012'>00</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'>Sirloin of Venison</td> + <td class='c011'>1</td> + <td class='c012'>50</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'>Baked Maccaroni</td> + <td class='c011'>0</td> + <td class='c012'>75</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c008'>Beef Tongue, Sauce piquante</td> + <td class='c011'>1</td> + <td class='c012'>00</td> + </tr> +</table> + +<p class='c013'>So that, with but a moderate appetite, the +dinner will cost us five dollars, if we are at all +epicurean in our tastes. There are cries of +‘steward!’ from all parts of the room—the +word ‘waiter’ is not considered sufficiently +respectful, seeing that the waiter may have +been a lawyer or a merchant’s clerk a few +months before. The dishes look very small +as they are placed on the table, but they +are skilfully cooked and are very palatable +<span class='pageno' id='Page_316'>316</span>to men that have ridden in from the diggings.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>Lodging was equally extravagant. A bedroom +in an hotel, 50<i>l.</i> per month, and a sleeping +berth or “bunk”—one of fifty in the same +apartment—1<i>l.</i> 4<i>s.</i> per week. Social intercourse +is almost unknown. There are no females, +and men have no better resource than +gambling, which is carried on to an extent, +and with a desperate energy, hardly conceivable. +“Gambling,” says a private correspondent, +whose letter, dated April 20, 1850, +now lies before us, “is carried on here with +a bold and open front, so as to alarm and +astonish one. Thousands and thousands +change hands nightly. Go in, for instance, to +a place called ‘Parker House,’ which is a +splendid mansion, fitted up as well as any +hotel in England; step into the front room, +and you see five or six Monte, Roulette, +and other gaming-tables, each having a bank +of nearly half a bushel of gold and silver, +piled up in the centre. That the excitement +shall not be wholly devoid of diversion, the +Muses lend their aid, and a band plays constantly +to crowded rooms! Step into the +next building, called ‘El Dorado,’ and there a +similar scene is presented, and which is repeated, +on a smaller scale, all over the town. +The gamblers seem to control the town, but of +course their days must be numbered. Fortunes +are made or lost daily. People gamble +with a freedom and recklessness which you +can never dream of. Young men who come +here must at all times resist gaming, or it +must eventually end in their ruin: the same +with drinking, as there is much of it here.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>The variety of habits, manners, tastes, +and prejudices, occasioned by the confluence +in one spot of almost every variety of the +human species, is another bar to a speedy +deposit of all these floating and opposite +elements into a compact and well assimilated +community. “Here,” writes the same gentleman, +“we see the character and habits of the +English, Irish, Scotch, German, Pole, French, +Spaniard, and almost every other nation of +Europe. Then you have the South American, +the Australian, the Chilian; and finally, the +force of this golden mania has dissolved the +chain that has hitherto bound China in +national solitude, and she has now come forth, +like an anchorite from his cell, to join this +varied mass of golden speculators. Here we +see in miniature just what is done in the large +cities of other countries; we have some of +our luxuries from the United States and the +tropics, butter from Oregon, and for the most +part California, Upper or Lower, furnishes us +with our beef, &c. The streets are all bustle, +as you may imagine, in a place now of nearly +thirty thousand inhabitants, independent of a +small world of floating population.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>Not the smallest wonder, however, presented +in this region, is the rapid manner in +which social order was shaped out of the +human chaos. When a new placer or “gulch” +was discovered, the first thing done was to +elect officers and extend the area of order. +The result was, that in a district five hundred +miles long, and inhabited by one hundred +thousand people—who had neither government, +regular laws, rules, military or civil +protection, nor even locks or bolts, and a +great part of whom possessed wealth enough +to tempt the vicious and depraved,—there was +as much security to life and property as in +any part of the Union, and as small a proportion +of crime. The capacity of a people +for self-government was never so triumphantly +illustrated. Never, perhaps, was there a +community formed of more unpropitious +elements; yet from all this seeming chaos +grew a harmony beyond what the most +sanguine apostle of Progress could have expected. +Indeed, there is nothing more remarkable +connected with the capital of El +Dorado, than the centre point it has become.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The story of Cadmus, who sowed dragons’ +teeth, and harvested armed men, who became +the builders of cities; the confusion +of tongues at the Tower of Babel; and the +beautiful allegory of the lion lying down with +the lamb; are all types of San Francisco. +The first, of its sudden rise; the second, of +the varieties of the genus Man it has congregated; +and the third, of the extremes of +those varieties, which range from the Polynesian +savage to the most civilised individuals +that Europe can produce. It is a coincidence +well worthy of note, that, besides the intense +attraction possessed from its gold, Upper +or New California is of all other places +the best adapted, from its geographical +position, to become a rendezvous for all +nations of the earth, and that the Bay +of San Francisco is one of the best and most +convenient for shipping throughout the western +margin of the American continent. It is precisely +the locality required to make a constant +communication across the Pacific Ocean with +the coasts of China, Japan, and the Eastern +Archipelago commercially practicable. Its +situation is that which would have been +selected from choice for a concentration of +delegates from the uttermost ends of the +earth. If the Chinese, the Malay, the Ladrone, +or the Sandwich Islander had wished +to meet his Saxon or Celtic brother on a +matter of mutual business, he would—deciding +geographically—have selected California as +the spot of assembly. The attractive powers +of gold could not, therefore, have struck forth +over the world from a better point than in +and around San Francisco, both for the +interests of commerce and for those of human +intercourse.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The practical question respecting the Golden +City remains yet to be touched. Does it +offer wholesome inducements for emigration? +On this subject we can do no more than +quote the opinions of the intelligent and enterprising +gentleman, to whose private letter +we have already referred:—“This, I should +<span class='pageno' id='Page_317'>317</span>say, is the best country in the world for an +active, enterprising, steady young man, provided +he can keep his health, as the climate, +without due precaution, is not a healthy one. +In the summer season, the weather is pleasantly +warm from morning till noon, then it is +windy till evening, and dusty, and then becomes +so cold as to require an over-coat. This weather +lasts to October, when the wind gets round to +the south-west. It is dry, warm, and pleasant +now (April). This and the rainy season are +the pleasantest and warmest here. Thousands, +on arriving, fall victims to the prevailing disease +of dysentery. On the latter account, +therefore, I should not advise, or be the indirect +means of inducing, any one to make the +adventure here, because it is impossible to +foresee or calculate whether or not he can +stand the climate and inconveniences of this +country; and, if so, he is sure to be exposed +to a miserable and too often neglected sickness, +and ending in a miserable death. I have +not been ill myself so far, as my general health +has been extremely good, and I never looked +so well as now. The climate seems to operate +injuriously on bilious habits; but to those who +can stand it, it is decidedly pleasanter than +England. Fires are never necessary. Out of +doors, at night, a great-coat is required, but in +the house it is always warm. The whole and +only question, with a man making up his mind +to locate in California, should be in regard to +his health. Business of all descriptions is +better here than in any other part of the world, +and he who perseveres is sure to succeed.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“There are various opinions afloat, in regard +to the fertility of the soil, some holding that +there are productive valleys in the interior +which would supply sufficient sustenance for +home consumption: others assert the reverse. +Certain it is, however, that in many parts in +the interior, the climate is delightful, but +owing to the long continued dry season, I +have doubts as to her ever raising a sufficient +supply of vegetable necessaries of life: our +market now is supplied from the Sandwich +Islands and Oregon.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“As to gold mining, it is altogether a +lottery; one man may make a large amount +daily, another will but just live. There is an +inexhaustible quantity of gold, however, but +with many it is inconceivably hard to get, +as the operations are so many, and health +so very precarious, that it is a mere chance +matter if you succeed in getting a large sum +speedily. It seems a question, whether it +would not be advisable for the American +Government to work the mines ultimately:</p> + +<p class='c005'>“California must ‘go-a-head:’ the east will +pour through the country her immense commerce +into the States, and the mines will last +for ages. Finally, I would now say to my +friends, that, if you are inclined to come to this +country, upon this my report of it, you must, +to succeed, attend to my warnings as to +drinking and gambling, and to my precautions +against climate.”</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c003'>THE MODERN “OFFICER’S” PROGRESS.</h2> +</div> +<h3 class='c014'>II.—A SUBALTERN’S DAY.</h3> + +<p class='c015'>However interesting it might prove to the +noble relatives of Ensign Spoonbill to learn +his progress, step by step, we must—for +reasons of our own—pass over the first few +weeks of his new career with only a brief +mention of the leading facts.</p> + +<p class='c005'>His brother officers had instructed him in +the art of tying on his sash, wearing his forage +cap on one side, the secret of distinguishing +his right hand from his left, and the mysteries +of marching and counter-marching. The art +of holding up his head and throwing out his +chest, had been carefully imparted by the +drill-serjeant of his company, and he had, +accordingly, been pronounced “fit for duty.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>What this was may best be shown, by +giving an outline of “a subaltern’s day,” as +he and the majority of his military friends +were in the habit of passing it. It may serve +to explain how it happens that British officers +are so far in advance of their continental +brethren in arms in the science of their profession, +and by what process they have arrived +at that intellectual superiority, which renders +it a matter of regret that more serious interests +than the mere discipline and well-being of only +a hundred and twenty thousand men have not +been confided to their charge.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The scene opens in a square room of +tolerable size which, if simply adorned with +“barrack furniture,” (to wit, a deal table, two +windsor-chairs, a coal scuttle, and a set of +fire-irons,) would give an idea of a British +subaltern’s “interior,” of rather more Spartanlike +simplicity than is altogether true. But to +these were added certain elegant “extras,” +obtained not out of the surplus of five and +three-pence a day—after mess and band subscriptions, +cost of uniform, servant’s wages, +&c., had been deducted—but on credit, which +it was easier to get than to avoid incurring expense. +A noble youth, like Ensign Spoonbill, +had only to give the word of command to be +obeyed by Messrs Rosewood and Mildew, with +the alacrity shown by the slaves of the lamp, +and in an incredibly short space of time, the +bare walls and floor of his apartment were +covered with the gayest articles their establishment +afforded. They included those indispensable +adjuncts to a young officer’s toilette, +a full length cheval, and a particularly lofty +pier-glass. A green-baize screen converted +the apartment into as many separate rooms +as its occupant desired, cutting it up, perhaps, +a little here and there, but adding, on the +whole, a great deal to its comfort and privacy. +What was out of the line of Messrs Rosewood +and Mildew—and that, as Othello says, was +“not much”—the taste of Ensign Spoonbill +himself supplied. To his high artistic taste +were due the presence of a couple of dozen +gilt-framed and highly-coloured prints, representing +<span class='pageno' id='Page_318'>318</span>the reigning favorites of the ballet, the +winners of the Derby and Leger, and the +costumes of the “dressiest,” and consequently +the most distinguished corps in the service; +the nice arrangement of cherry-stick tubes, +amber mouth-pieces, meerschaum bowls, and +embroidered bags of Latakia tobacco; pleasing +devices of the well-crossed foils, riding whips, +and single sticks evenly balanced by fencing +masks and boxing gloves; and, on the chimneypiece, +the brilliant array of nick-nacks, from +the glittering shop of Messrs Moses, Lazarus +and Son, who called themselves “jewellers and +dealers in curiosities,” and who dealt in a few +trifles which were not alluded to above their +door-posts.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The maxim of “Early to bed” was not +known in the Hundredth; but the exigencies +of the service required that Ensign Spoonbill +should rise with the <i>reveillée</i>. He complained +of it in more forcible language than Dr. Watts’ +celebrated sluggard; but discipline is inexorable, +and he was not permitted to “slumber +again.” This early rising is a real military +hardship. We once heard a lady of fashion +counselling her friend never to marry a +Guardsman. “You have no idea, love, what +you’ll have to go through; every morning of +his life—in the season—he has to be out with +the horrid regiment at half-past six o’clock!”</p> + +<p class='c005'>The Hon. Ensign Spoonbill then rose with +the lark, though much against his will, his connection +with that fowl having by preference a +midnight tendency. Erect at last, but with a +strong taste of cigars in his mouth, and a slight +touch of whiskey-headache, the Ensign arrayed +himself in his blue frock coat and Oxford grey +trowsers; wound himself into his sash; adjusted +his sword and cap; and, with a faltering +step, made the best of his way into the barrack-square, +where the squads were forming, +which, with his eyes only half-open, he was +called upon to inspect, prior to their being +re-inspected by both lieutenant and captain. +He then drew his sword, and “falling in” in +the rear of his company, occupied that distinguished +position till the regiment was +formed and set in motion.</p> + +<p class='c005'>His duties on the parade-ground were—as +a supernumerary—of a very arduous nature, +and consisted chiefly in getting in the way +of his captain as he continually “changed +his flank,” in making the men “lock up,” +and in avoiding the personal observation +of the adjutant as much as possible; storing +his mind, all the time, with a few of +the epithets, more vigorous than courtly, +which the commanding officer habitually +made use of to quicken the movements of the +battalion. He enjoyed this recreation for +about a couple of hours, sometimes utterly +bewildered by a “change of front,” which developed +him in the most inopportune manner; +sometimes inextricably entangled in the formation +of “a hollow square,” when he became +lost altogether; sometimes confounding himself +with “the points,” and being confounded +by the senior-major for his awkwardness; +and sometimes following a “charge” at such +a pace as to take away his voice for every +purpose of utility, supposing he had desired +to exercise it in the way of admonitory adjuration +to the rear-rank. In this manner he +learnt the noble science of strategy, and by +this means acquired so much proficiency that, +had he been suddenly called upon to manœuvre +the battalion, it is possible he might +have gone on for five minutes without “clubbing” +it.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The regiment was then marched home; +and Ensign Spoonbill re-entered the garrison +with all the honours of war, impressed with +the conviction that he had already seen an +immense deal of service; enough, certainly, +to justify the ample breakfast which two or +three other famished subs—his particular +friends—assisted him in discussing, the more +substantial part of which, involved a private +account with the messman, who had a good +many more of the younger officers of the +regiment on his books. At these morning +feasts—with the exception, perhaps, of a few +remarks on drill as “a cussed bore”—no +allusion was made to the military exercises of +the morning, or to the prospective duties of +the day. The conversation turned, on the +contrary, on lighter and more agreeable +topics;—the relative merits of bull and Scotch +terriers; who made the best boots; whether +“that gaerl at the pastrycook’s” was “as +fine a woman” as “the barmaid of the Rose +and Crown;” if Hudson’s cigars didn’t beat +Pontet’s all to nothing; who married the +sixth daughter of Jones of the Highlanders; +interspersed with a few bets, a few oaths, and +a few statements not strikingly remarkable +for their veracity, the last having reference, +principally, to the exploits for which Captain +Smith made himself famous, to the detriment +of Miss Bailey.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Breakfast over, and cigars lighted, Ensign +Spoonbill and his friends, attired in shooting +jackets of every pattern, and wearing felt hats +of every colour and form, made their appearance +in front of the officers’ wing of the barracks; +some semi-recumbent on the doorsteps, +others lounging with their hands in +their coat pockets, others gracefully balancing +themselves on the iron railings,—all smoking +and talking on subjects of the most edifying +kind. These pleasant occupations were, however, +interrupted by the approach of an +“orderly,” who, from a certain clasped book +which he carried, read out the unwelcome +intelligence that, at twelve o’clock that day, a +regimental court-martial, under the presidency +of Captain Huff, would assemble in the officers’ +mess-room “for the trial of all such prisoners +as might be brought before it,” and that two +lieutenants and two ensigns—of whom the Hon. +Mr. Spoonbill was one—were to constitute +the members. This was a most distressing +and unexpected blow, for it had previously +been arranged that a badger should be drawn +<span class='pageno' id='Page_319'>319</span>by Lieutenant Wadding’s bull bitch Juno, at +which interesting ceremony all the junior +members of the court were to have “assisted.” +It was the more provoking, because the +proprietor of the animal to be baited,—a +gentleman in a fustian suit, brown leggings, +high-lows, a white hat with a black crape +round it, and a very red nose, indicative of a +most decided love for “cordials and compounds”—had +just “stepped up” to say that +“the bedger <i>must</i> be dror’d that mornin’,” +as he was under a particular engagement to +repeat the amusement in the evening for some +gents at a distant town and “couldn’t +no how, not for no money, forfeit his sacred +word.” The majority of the young gentlemen +present understood perfectly what this corollary +meant, but, with Ensign Spoonbill amongst +them, were by no means in a hurry to “fork +out” for so immoral a purpose as that of +inducing a fellow-man to break a solemn +pledge. That gallant officer, however, laboured +under so acute a feeling of disappointment, +that, regardless of the insult offered to the +worthy man’s conscience, he at once volunteered +to give him “a couple of sovs” if he +would just “throw those snobs over,” and +defer his departure till the following day; +and it was settled that the badger should be +“drawn” as soon as the patrons of Joe Baggs +could get away from the court-martial,—for +which in no very equable frame of mind they +now got ready,—retiring to their several +barrack-rooms, divesting themselves of their +sporting costume and once more assuming +military attire.</p> + +<p class='c005'>At the appointed hour, the court assembled. +Captain Huff prepared for his +judicial labours by calling for a glass of his +favourite “swizzle,” which he dispatched at +one draught, and then, having sworn in the +members, and being sworn himself, the +business began by the appointment of Lieutenant +Hackett as secretary. There were two +prisoners to be tried: one had “sold his +necessaries” in order to get drunk; the second +had made use of “mutinous language” <i>when</i> +drunk; both of them high military crimes, +to be severely visited by those who had +no temptation to dispose of their wardrobes, +and could not understand why a soldier’s beer +money was not sufficient for his daily potations; +but who omitted the consideration that +they themselves, when in want of cash, occasionally +sent a pair of epaulettes to “my +uncle,” and had a champagne supper out of +the proceeds, at which neither sobriety nor +decorous language were rigidly observed.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The case against him who had sold his +necessaries—to wit, “a new pair of boots, a +shirt, and a pair of stockings,” for which a +Jew in the town had given him two shillings—was +sufficiently clear. The captain and the +pay-serjeant of the man’s company swore to +the articles, and the Jew who bought them +(an acquaintance of Lieutenant Hackett, to +whom he nodded with pleasing familiarity), +stimulated by the fear of a civil prosecution, +gave them up, and appeared as evidence +against the prisoner. He was found “guilty,” +and sentenced to three months’ solitary confinement, +and “to be put under stoppages,” +according to the prescribed formulæ.</p> + +<p class='c005'>But the trial of the man accused of drunkenness +and mutinous language was not so readily +disposed of; though the delay occasioned by +his calling witnesses to character served only +to add to the irritation of his virtuous and +impartial judges. He was a fine-looking +fellow, six feet high, and had as soldier-like a +bearing as any man in the Grenadier company, +to which he belonged. The specific acts which +constituted his crime consisted in having +refused to leave the canteen when somewhat +vexatiously urged to do so by the orderly serjeant, +who forthwith sent for a file of the +guard to compel him; thus urging him, when +in an excited state, to an act of insubordination, +the gist of which was a threat to knock +the serjeant down, a show of resistance, and +certain maledictions on the head of that functionary. +In this, as in the former instance, +there could be no doubt that the breach of +discipline complained of had been committed, +though several circumstances were pleaded +in extenuation of the offence. The man’s previous +character, too, was very good; he was +ordinarily a steady, well-conducted soldier, +never shirked his hour of duty, was not given +to drink, and, therefore, as the principal +witness in his favour said, “the more aisily +overcome when he tuck a dhrop, but as +harrumless as a lamb, unless put upon.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>These things averred and shown, the Court +was cleared, and the members proceeded to +deliberate. It was a question only of the +nature and extent of the punishment to be +awarded. The general instructions, no less +than the favourable condition of the case, +suggested leniency. But Captain Huff was +a severe disciplinarian of the old school, an +advocate for red-handed practice—the drum +head and the halberds—and his opinion, if it +might be called one, had only too much weight +with the other members of the Court, all of +whom were prejudiced against the prisoner, +whom they internally—if not openly—condemned +for interfering with their day’s +amusements. “Corporal punishment, of +course,” said Captain Huff, angrily; and his +words were echoed by the Court, though the +majority of them little knew the fearful +import of the sentence, or they might have +paused before they delivered over a fine resolute +young man, whose chief crime was an +ebullition of temper, to the castigation of the +lash, which destroys the soldier’s self-respect; +degrades him in the eyes of his fellows; mutilates +his body, and leaves an indelible scar +upon his mind. But the fiat went forth, and +was recorded in “hundreds” against the +unfortunate fellow; and Captain Huff having +managed to sign the proceedings, carried +them off to the commanding officer’s quarters, +<span class='pageno' id='Page_320'>320</span>to be “approved and confirmed;” a ratification +which the Colonel was not slow to +give; for he was one of that class who are +in the habit of reconciling themselves to an +act of cruelty, by always asserting in their +defence that “an example is necessary.” He +forgot, in doing so, that this was not the way +to preserve for the “Hundredth” the name +of a crack corps, and that the best example +for those in authority is Mercy.</p> + +<p class='c005'>With minds buoyant and refreshed by the +discharge of the judicial functions, for which +they were in every respect so admirably +qualified, Ensign Spoonbill and his companions, +giving themselves leave of absence +from the afternoon parade, and having resumed +their favourite “mufty,” repaired to +an obscure den in a stable-yard at the back +of the Blue Boar—a low public house in the +filthiest quarter of the town—which Mr. +Joseph Baggs made his head-quarters, and +there, for a couple of hours, solaced themselves +with the agreeable exhibition of the +contest between the badger and the dog Juno, +which terminated by the latter being bitten +through both her fore-paws, and nearly losing +one of her eyes; though, as Lieutenant +Wadding exultingly observed, “she was a +deuced deal too game to give over for such +trifles as those.” The unhappy badger, that +only fought in self-defence, was accordingly +“dror’d,” as Mr. Baggs reluctantly admitted, +adding, however, that she was “nuffin much +the wuss,” which was more than could be +said of the officers of the “Hundredth” who +had enjoyed the spectacle.</p> + +<p class='c005'>This amusement ended, which had so far a +military character that it familiarised the +spectator with violence and bloodshed, though +in an unworthy and contemptible degree, +badgers and dogs, not men, being their subject, +the young gentlemen adjourned to the High +Street, to loiter away half an hour at the shop +of Messrs. Moses, Lazarus and Son, whose +religious observances and daily occupations +were made their jest, while they ran in debt +to the people from whom they afterwards +expected consideration and forbearance. But +not wholly did they kill their time there. +The pretty pastry-cook, an innocent, retiring +girl, but compelled to serve in the shop, came +in for her share of their half-admiring and all-insolent +persecutions, and when their slang +and sentiment were alike exhausted, they +dawdled back again to barracks, to dress +for the fifth time for mess.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The events of the day, that is, the events +on which their thoughts had been centered, +again furnished the theme of the general conversation. +Enough wine was drunk, as +Captain Huff said, with the wit peculiar to +him, “to restore the equilibrium;” the most +abstinent person being Captain Cushion, who +that evening gave convincing proof of the advantages +of abstinence, by engaging Ensign +Spoonbill in a match at billiards, the result of +which was, that Lord Pelican’s son found +himself, at midnight, minus a full half of the +allowance for which his noble father had given +him liberty to draw. But that he had fairly +lost the money there could be no doubt, for +the officer on the main-guard, who had preferred +watching the game to going his rounds, +declared to the party, when they afterwards +adjourned to take a glass of grog with him +before he turned in, that “except Jonathan, +he had never seen any man make so good a +bridge as his friend Spoonbill,” and this fact +Captain Cushion himself confirmed, adding, +that he thought, perhaps, he could afford next +time to give points. With the reputation +of making a good bridge—a <i>Pons asinorum</i> +over which his money had travelled—Ensign +Spoonbill was fain to be content, and in this +satisfactory manner he closed one Subaltern’s +day, there being many like it in reserve.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c003'>THE BELGIAN LACE-MAKERS.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c004'>The indefatigable, patient, invincible, inquisitive, +sometimes tedious, but almost +always amusing German traveller, Herr +Kohl, has recently been pursuing his earnest +investigations in Belgium. His book on the +Netherlands<a id='r2'></a><a href='#f2' class='c006'><sup>[2]</sup></a> has just been issued, and we +shall translate, with abridgments, one of its +most instructive and agreeable chapters;—that +relating to Lace-making.</p> + +<div class='footnote' id='f2'> +<p class='c005'><a href='#r2'>2</a>. Reisen in <a id='t320'></a>den Niederlanden. Travels in the Netherlands.</p> +</div> + +<p class='c005'>The practical acquaintance of our female +readers with that elegant ornament, lace, is +chiefly confined to wearing it, and their researches +into its quality and price. A few +minutes’ attention to Mr. Kohl will enlighten +them on other subjects connected with, what +is to them a most interesting topic, for lace is +associated with recollections of mediæval history, +and with the palmy days of the Flemish +school of painting. More than one of the +celebrated masters of that school have selected, +from among his laborious countrywomen, the +lace-makers (or, as they are called in Flanders, +<i>Speldewerksters</i>), pleasing subjects for the +exercise of his pencil. The plump, fair-haired +Flemish girl, bending earnestly over her lace-work, +whilst her fingers nimbly ply the intricately +winding bobbins, figure in many of +those highly esteemed representations of +homely life and manners, which have found +their way from the Netherlands into all the +principal picture-galleries of Europe.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Our German friend makes it his practice, +whether he is treating of the geology of the +earth, or of the manufacture of Swedish +bodkins, to begin at the very beginning. He +therefore commences the history of lace-making, +which, he says, is, like embroidery, +an art of very ancient origin, lost, like a +multitude of other origins, “in the darkness +of by-gone ages.” It may, with truth, be said +that it is the national occupation of the +women of the Low Countries, and one to +<span class='pageno' id='Page_321'>321</span>which they have steadily adhered from very +remote times. During the long civil and +foreign wars waged by the people of the +Netherlands, while subject to Spanish dominion, +other branches of Belgic industry +either dwindled to decay, or were transplanted +to foreign countries; but lace-making remained +faithful to the land which had fostered and +brought it to perfection, though it received +tempting offers from abroad, and had to +struggle with many difficulties at home. +This Mr. Kohl explains by the fact, that lace-making +is a branch of industry chiefly confined +to female hands, and, as women are less +disposed to travel than men, all arts and +handicrafts exclusively pursued by women, +have a local and enduring character.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Notwithstanding the overwhelming supply +of imitations which modern ingenuity has +created, <i>real Brussels lace</i> has maintained its +value, like the precious metals and the +precious stones. In the patterns of the best +bone lace, the changeful influence of fashion is +less marked than in most other branches of +industry; indeed, she has adhered with wonderful +pertinacity to the quaint old patterns +of former times. These are copied and reproduced +with that scrupulous uniformity +which characterises the figures in the Persian +and Indian shawls. Frequent experiments +have been tried to improve these old patterns, +by the introduction of slight and tasteful +modifications, but these innovations have not +succeeded, and a very skilful and experienced +lace-worker assured Mr. Kohl, that the +antiquated designs, with all their formality, +are preferred to those in which the most +elegant changes have been effected.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Each of the lace-making towns of Belgium +excels in the production of one particular +description of lace: in other words, each has +what is technically called its own <i>point</i>. +The French word <i>point</i>, in the ordinary +language of needlework, signifies simply +<i>stitch</i>; but in the terminology of lace-making, +the word is sometimes used to designate +the pattern of the lace, and sometimes +the ground of the lace itself. Hence the +terms <i>point de Bruxelles</i>, <i>point de Malines</i>, +<i>point de Valenciennes</i>, &c. In England we +distinguish by the name of Point, a peculiarly +rich and curiously wrought lace formerly very +fashionable, but now scarcely ever worn except +in Court costume. In this sort of lace +the pattern is, we believe, worked with the +needle, after the ground has been made with +the bobbins. In each town there prevail +certain modes of working, and certain patterns +which have been transmitted from +mother to daughter successively, for several +generations. Many of the lace-workers live +and die in the same houses in which they were +born; and most of them understand and +practise only the stitches which their mothers +and grandmothers worked before them. The +consequence has been, that certain <i>points</i> +have become unchangeably fixed in particular +towns or districts. Fashion has assigned to +each its particular place and purpose; for +example:—the <i>point de Malines</i> (Mechlin +lace) is used chiefly for trimming nightdresses, +pillow-cases, coverlets, &c.; the <i>point +de Valenciennes</i> (Valenciennes lace) is employed +for ordinary wear or negligé; but the +more rich and costly <i>point de Bruxelles</i> +(Brussels lace) is reserved for bridal and ball-dresses, +and for the robes of queens and +courtly ladies.</p> + +<p class='c005'>As the different sorts of lace, from the +narrowest and plainest to the broadest and +richest, are innumerable; so the division of +labour among the lace-workers is infinite. In +the towns of Belgium there are as many +different kinds of lace-workers, as there are +varieties of spiders in Nature. It is not, +therefore, surprising that in the several departments +of this branch of industry there +are as many technical terms and phrases as +would make up a small dictionary. In their +origin, these expressions were all Flemish; +but French being the language now spoken +in Belgium, they have been translated into +French, and the designations applied to some +of the principal classifications of the workwomen. +Those who make only the ground, +are called <i>Drocheleuses</i>. The design or pattern, +which adorns this ground, is distinguished by +the general term “the Flowers;” though it +would be difficult to guess what flowers are +intended to be portrayed by the fantastic +arabesque of these lace-patterns. In Brussels +the ornaments or flowers are made separately, +and afterwards worked into the lace-ground: +in other places the ground and the patterns +are worked conjointly. The <i>Platteuses</i> are +those who work the flowers separately; and +the <i><span lang="fr">Faiseuses de point à l’aiguille</span></i> work the +figures and the ground together. The <i>Striquese</i> +is the worker who attaches the flowers +to the ground. The <i>Faneuse</i> works her figures +by piercing holes or cutting out pieces of the +ground.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The spinning of the fine thread used for +lace-making in the Netherlands, is an operation +demanding so high a degree of minute +care and vigilant attention, that it is impossible +it can ever be taken from human hands by +machinery. None but Belgian fingers are +skilled in this art. The very finest sort of +this thread is made in Brussels, in damp +underground cellars; for it is so extremely +delicate, that it is liable to break by contact +with the dry air above ground; and it is +obtained in good condition only, when made +and kept in a humid subterraneous atmosphere. +There are numbers of old Belgian +thread-makers who, like spiders, have passed +the best part of their lives spinning in cellars. +This sort of occupation naturally has an injurious +effect on the health, and therefore, to +induce people to follow it, they are highly paid.</p> + +<p class='c005'>To form an accurate idea of this operation, +it is necessary to see a Brabant Threadspinner +at her work. She carefully examines +<span class='pageno' id='Page_322'>322</span>every thread, watching it closely as she draws +it off the distaff; and that she may see it the +more distinctly, a piece of dark blue paper is +used as a background for the flax. Whenever +the spinner notices the least unevenness, she +stops the evolution of her wheel, breaks off +the faulty piece of flax, and then resumes her +spinning. This fine flax being as costly as +gold, the pieces thus broken off are carefully +laid aside to be used in other ways. All this +could never be done by machinery. It is +different in the spinning of cotton, silk, or +wool, in which the original threads are almost +all of uniform thickness. The invention of +the English Flax-spinning Machine, therefore, +can never supersede the work of the +Belgian Fine Thread Spinners, any more than +the Bobbin-Net Machine can rival the fingers +of the Brussels lace-makers, or render their +delicate work superfluous.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The prices current of the Brabant spinners +usually include a list of various sorts of thread +suited to lace-making, varying from 60 francs +to 1800 francs per pound. Instances have +occurred, in which as much as 10,000 francs +have been paid for a pound of this fine yarn. +So high a price has never been attained by +the best spun silk; though a pound of silk, in +its raw condition, is incomparably more valuable +than a pound of flax. In like manner, a +pound of iron may, by dint of human labour +and ingenuity, be rendered more valuable than +a pound of gold.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Lace-making, in regard to the health of the +operatives, has one great advantage. It is a +business which is carried on without the +necessity of assembling great numbers of +workpeople in one place, or of taking women +from their homes, and thereby breaking the +bonds of family union. It is, moreover, an +occupation which affords those employed in it +a great degree of freedom. The spinning-wheel +and lace-pillows are easily carried from +place to place, and the work may be done +with equal convenience in the house, in the +garden, or at the street-door. In every +Belgian town in which lace-making is the +staple business, the eye of the traveller is continually +greeted with pictures of happy industry, +attended by all its train of concomitant +virtues. The costliness of the material employed +in the work, viz., the fine flax thread, +fosters the observance of order and economy, +which, as well as habits of cleanliness, are +firmly engrafted among the people. Much +manual dexterity, quickness of eye, and judgment, +are demanded in lace-making; and the +work is a stimulater of ingenuity and taste; +so that, unlike other occupations merely +manual, it tends to rouse rather than to dull +the mind. It is, moreover, unaccompanied by +any unpleasant and harassing noise; for the +humming of the spinning-wheel, and the +regular tapping of the little bobbins, are +sounds not in themselves disagreeable, or +sufficiently loud to disturb conversation, or to +interrupt the social song.</p> + +<p class='c005'>In Belgium, female industry presents itself +under aspects alike interesting to the painter, +the poet, and the philanthropist. Here and +there may be seen a happy-looking girl, seated +at an open window, turning her spinning-wheel +or working at her lace-pillow, whilst at +intervals she indulges in the relaxation of a +curious gaze at the passers-by in the street. +Another young <i>Speldewerkster</i>, more sentimentally +disposed, will retire into the garden, +seating herself in an umbrageous arbour, or +under a spreading tree, her eyes intent on her +work, but her thoughts apparently divided +between it and some object nearer to her +heart. At a doorway sits a young mother, +surrounded by two or three children playing +round the little table or wooden settle on +which her lace-pillow rests. Whilst the +mother’s busy fingers are thus profitably employed, +her eyes keep watch over the movements +of her little ones, and she can at the +same time spare an attentive thought for some +one of her humble household duties.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Dressmakers, milliners, and other females +employed in the various occupations which +minister to the exigencies of fashion, are confined +to close rooms, surrounded by masses of +silk, muslin, &c. They are debarred the +healthful practice of working in the open air, +and can scarcely venture even to sit at an +open window, because a drop of rain or a puff +of wind may be fatal to their work and its +materials. The lace-maker, on the contrary, +whose work requires only her thread and her +fingers, is not disturbed by a refreshing breeze +or a light shower; and even when the weather +is not particularly fine, she prefers sitting at +her street-door or in her garden, where she +enjoys a brighter light than within doors.</p> + +<p class='c005'>In most of the principal towns of the +Netherlands there is one particular locality +which is the focus of lace-making industry; +and there, in fine weather, the streets are +animated by the presence of the busy workwomen. +In each of these districts there is +usually one wide open street which the <i>Speldewerksters</i> +prefer to all others, and in which +they assemble, and form themselves into the +most picturesque groups imaginable. It is +curious to observe them, pouring out of narrow +lanes and alleys, carrying with them their +chairs and lace-pillows, to take their places in +the wide open street, where they can enjoy +more of bright light and fresh air than in +their own places of abode.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“I could not help contrasting,” says Kohl, +“the pleasing aspect of these streets with the +close and noisy workrooms in woollen and +cotton manufactories. There the workpeople +are all separated and classified according to +age and sex, and marshalled like soldiers. +There domestic and family ties are rudely +broken. There chance or exigency separates +the young factory girl from her favourite +companions, and dooms her to association with +strangers. There social conversation and the +merry song are drowned in that stunning din +<span class='pageno' id='Page_323'>323</span>of machinery, which in the end paralyses even +the power of thought.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>Our German friend is a little hard upon +factory life. Though not so picturesque, it +does not, if candidly viewed, offer so very unfavourable +a contrast to that passed by the +Belgian Lace Workers.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c003'>THE POWER OF MERCY.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c004'>Quiet enough, in general, is the quaint old +town of Lamborough. Why all this bustle to-day? +Along the hedge-bound roads which +lead to it, carts, chaises, vehicles of every +description are jogging along filled with +countrymen; and here and there the scarlet +cloak or straw bonnet of some female occupying +a chair, placed somewhat unsteadily +behind them, contrasts gaily with the dark +coats, or grey smock-frocks of the front row; +from every cottage of the suburb, some individuals +join the stream, which rolls on +increasing through the streets till it reaches +the castle. The ancient moat teems with idlers, +and the hill opposite, usually the quiet domain +of a score or two of peaceful sheep, partakes +of the surrounding agitation.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The voice of the multitude which surrounds +the court-house, sounds like the murmur of +the sea, till suddenly it is raised to a sort of +shout. John West, the terror of the surrounding +country, the sheep-stealer and +burglar, had been found guilty.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“What is the sentence?” is asked by a +hundred voices.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The answer is “Transportation for Life.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>But there was one standing aloof on the +hill, whose inquiring eye wandered over the +crowd with indescribable anguish, whose pallid +cheek grew more and more ghastly at every +denunciation of the culprit, and who, when at +last the sentence was pronounced, fell insensible +upon the greensward. It was the +burglar’s son.</p> + +<p class='c005'>When the boy recovered from his swoon, it +was late in the afternoon; he was alone; the +faint tinkling of the sheep-bell had again +replaced the sound of the human chorus of +expectation, and dread, and jesting; all was +peaceful, he could not understand why he lay +there, feeling so weak and sick. He raised +himself tremulously and looked around, the +turf was cut and spoilt by the trampling of +many feet. All his life of the last few months +floated before his memory, his residence in his +father’s hovel with ruffianly comrades, the +desperate schemes he heard as he pretended +to sleep on his lowly bed, their expeditions at +night, masked and armed, their hasty returns, +the news of his father’s capture, his own +removal to the house of some female in the +town, the court, the trial, the condemnation.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The father had been a harsh and brutal +parent, but he had not positively ill-used his +boy. Of the Great and Merciful Father of the +fatherless the child knew nothing. He deemed +himself alone in the world. Yet grief was not +his pervading feeling, nor the shame of being +known as the son of a transport. It was +revenge which burned within him. He thought +of the crowd which had come to feast upon +his father’s agony; he longed to tear them to +pieces, and he plucked savagely a handful of +the grass on which he leant. Oh, that he were +a man! that he could punish them all—all,—the +spectators first, the constables, the judge, +the jury, the witnesses,—one of them especially, +a clergyman named Leyton, who had given his +evidence more positively, more clearly, than +all the others. Oh, that he could do that man +some injury,—but for him his father would +not have been identified and convicted.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Suddenly a thought occurred to him,—his +eyes sparkled with fierce delight. “I know +where he lives,” he said to himself; “he has +the farm and parsonage of Millwood. I will +go there at once,—it is almost dark already. +I will do as I have heard father say he once +did to the Squire. I will set his barns and +his house on fire. Yes, yes, he shall burn +for it,—he shall get no more fathers transported.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>To procure a box of matches was an easy +task, and that was all the preparation the boy +made.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The autumn was far advanced. A cold +wind was beginning to moan amongst the +almost leafless trees, and George West’s teeth +chattered, and his ill-clad limbs grew numb +as he walked along the fields leading to Millwood. +“Lucky it’s a dark night; this fine +wind will fan the flame nicely,” he repeated to +himself.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The clock was striking nine, but all was +quiet as midnight; not a soul stirring, not a +light in the parsonage windows that he could +see. He dared not open the gate, lest the +click of the latch should betray him, so he +softly climbed over; but scarcely had he +dropped on the other side of the wall before +the loud barking of a dog startled him. He +cowered down behind the hay-rick, scarcely +daring to breathe, expecting each instant that +the dog would spring upon him. It was some +time before the boy dared to stir, and as his +courage cooled, his thirst for revenge somewhat +subsided also, till he almost determined +to return to Lamborough; but he was too +tired, too cold, too hungry,—besides, the +woman would beat him for staying out so +late. What could he do? where should he +go? and as the sense of his lonely and forlorn +position returned, so did also the affectionate +remembrance of his father, his hatred of his +accusers, his desire to satisfy his vengeance; +and, once more, courageous through anger, he +rose, took the box from his pocket and boldly +drew one of them across the sand-paper. It +flamed; he stuck it hastily in the stack against +which he rested,—it only flickered a little, +and went out. In great trepidation, young +West once more grasped the whole of the +remaining matches in his hand and ignited +them but at the same instant the dog barked. +<span class='pageno' id='Page_324'>324</span>He hears the gate open, a step is close to him, +the matches are extinguished, the lad makes +a desperate effort to escape,—but a strong +hand was laid on his shoulder, and a deep +calm voice inquired, “What can have urged +you to such a crime?” Then calling loudly, +the gentleman, without relinquishing his hold, +soon obtained the help of some farming men, +who commenced a search with their lanterns +all about the farm. Of course they found +no accomplices, nothing at all but the handful +of half-consumed matches the lad had dropped, +and he all that time stood trembling, and +occasionally struggling, beneath the firm but +not rough grasp of the master who held +him.</p> + +<p class='c005'>At last the men were told to return to the +house, and thither, by a different path, was +George led till they entered a small, poorly-furnished +room. The walls were covered with +books, as the bright flame of the fire revealed +to the anxious gaze of the little culprit. The +clergyman lit a lamp, and surveyed his prisoner +attentively. The lad’s eyes were fixed on the +ground, whilst Mr. Leyton’s wandered from +his pale, pinched features to his scanty, ragged +attire, through the tatters of which he could +discern the thin limbs quivering from cold or +fear; and when at last impelled by curiosity +at the long silence, George looked up, there +was something so sadly compassionate in the +stranger’s gentle look, that the boy could +scarcely believe that he was really the man +whose evidence had mainly contributed to +transport his father. At the trial he had +been unable to see his face, and nothing so +kind had ever gazed upon him. His proud +bad feelings were already melting.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“You look half-starved,” said Mr. Leyton, +“draw nearer to the fire, you can sit down on +that stool whilst I question you; and mind +you answer me the truth. I am not a magistrate, +but of course can easily hand you over +to justice if you will not allow me to benefit +you in my own way.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>George still stood twisting his ragged cap +in his trembling fingers, and with so much +emotion depicted on his face, that the good +clergyman resumed, in still more soothing +accents; “I have no wish to do you anything +but good, my poor boy; look up at me, and +see if you cannot trust me: you need not be +thus frightened. I only desire to hear the +tale of misery your appearance indicates, to +relieve it if I can.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>Here the young culprit’s heart smote him. +Was this the man whose house he had tried +to burn? On whom he had wished to bring +ruin and perhaps death? Was it a snare +spread for him to lead to confession? But +when he looked on that grave compassionate +countenance, he felt that it was <i>not</i>.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Come, my lad, tell me all.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>George had for years heard little but oaths, +and curses, and ribald jests, or the thief’s +jargon of his father’s associates, and had +been constantly cuffed and punished; but +the better part of his nature was not extinguished; +and at those words from the mouth +of his <i>enemy</i>, he dropped on his knees, and +clasping his hands, tried to speak; but could +only sob. He had not wept before during +that day of anguish; and now his tears +gushed forth so freely, his grief was so passionate +as he half knelt, half rested on the +floor, that the good questioner saw that +sorrow must have its course ere calm could +be restored.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The young penitent still wept, when a +knock was heard at the door, and a lady +entered. It was the clergyman’s wife, he +kissed her as she asked how he had succeeded +with the wicked man in the jail?</p> + +<p class='c005'>“He told me” replied Mr. Leyton, “that +he had a son whose fate tormented him more +than his punishment. Indeed his mind was +so distracted respecting the youth, that he +was scarcely able to understand my exhortations. +He entreated me with agonising energy +to save his son from such a life as he had led, +and gave me the address of a woman in +whose house he lodged. I was, however, unable +to find the boy in spite of many earnest +inquiries.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Did you hear his name?” asked the +wife.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“George West,” was the reply.</p> + +<p class='c005'>At the mention of his name, the boy ceased +to sob. Breathlessly he heard the account of +his father’s last request, of the benevolent +clergyman’s wish to fulfil it. He started up, +ran towards the door, and endeavoured to +open it; Mr. Leyton calmly restrained him, +“You must not escape,” he said.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“I cannot stop here. I cannot bear to look +at you. Let me go!” The lad said this +wildly, and shook himself away.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Why, I intend you nothing but kindness.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>A new flood of tears gushed forth; and +George West said between his sobs,</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Whilst you were searching for me to +help me, I was trying to burn you in your +house. I cannot bear it.” He sunk on his +knees, and covered his face with both hands.</p> + +<p class='c005'>There was a long silence, for Mr. and Mrs. +Leyton were as much moved as the boy, who +was bowed down with shame and penitence, +to which hitherto he had been a stranger.</p> + +<p class='c005'>At last the clergyman asked, “What could +have induced you to commit such a crime?”</p> + +<p class='c005'>Rising suddenly in the excitement of remorse, +gratitude, and many feelings new to him, +he hesitated for a moment, and then told his +story; he related his trials, his sins, his sorrows, +his supposed wrongs, his burning anger at the +terrible fate of his only parent, and his rage +at the exultation of the crowd: his desolation +on recovering from his swoon, his thirst for +vengeance, the attempt to satisfy it. He spoke +with untaught, child-like simplicity, without +attempting to suppress the emotions which +successively overcame him.</p> + +<p class='c005'>When he ceased, the lady hastened to the +<span class='pageno' id='Page_325'>325</span>crouching boy, and soothed him with gentle +words. The very tones of her voice were new +to him. They pierced his heart more acutely +than the fiercest of the upbraidings and denunciations +of his old companions. He looked +on his merciful benefactors with bewildered +tenderness. He kissed Mrs. Leyton’s hand then +gently laid on his shoulder. He gazed about +like one in a dream who dreaded to wake. +He became faint and staggered. He was laid +gently on a sofa, and Mr. and Mrs. Leyton +left him.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Food was shortly administered to him, and +after a time, when his senses had become +sufficiently collected, Mr. Leyton returned to +the study, and explained holy and beautiful +things, which were new to the neglected boy: +of the great yet loving Father; of Him who +loved the poor, forlorn wretch, equally with +the richest, and noblest, and happiest; of +the force and efficacy of the sweet beatitude, +“Blessed are the Merciful for they shall +obtain Mercy.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>I heard this story from Mr. Leyton, during +a visit to him in May. George West was +then head ploughman to a neighbouring +farmer, one of the cleanest, best behaved, and +most respected labourers in the parish.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c003'>FLOWERS.</h2> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c016'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>Dear friend, love well the flowers! Flowers are the sign</div> + <div class='line'>Of Earth’s all gentle love, her grace, her youth,</div> + <div class='line'>Her endless, matchless, tender gratitude.</div> + <div class='line'>When the Sun smiles on thee,—why thou art glad:</div> + <div class='line'>But when on Earth he smileth, <i>She</i> bursts forth</div> + <div class='line'>In beauty like a bride, and gives him back,</div> + <div class='line'>In sweet repayment for his warm bright love,</div> + <div class='line'>A world of flowers. You may see them born</div> + <div class='line'>On any day in April, moist or dry,</div> + <div class='line'>As bright as are the Heavens that look on them:</div> + <div class='line'>Some sown like stars upon the greensward; some</div> + <div class='line'>As yellow as the sunrise; others red</div> + <div class='line'>As Day is when he sets; reflecting thus,</div> + <div class='line'>In pretty moods, the bounties of the sky.</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in2'>And now, of all fair flowers, which lovest thou best?</div> + <div class='line'>The Rose? She is a queen, more wonderful</div> + <div class='line'>Than any who have bloomed on Orient thrones:</div> + <div class='line'>Sabæan Empress! in her breast, though small,</div> + <div class='line'>Beauty and infinite sweetness sweetly dwell,</div> + <div class='line'>Inextricable. Or dost dare prefer</div> + <div class='line'>The Woodbine, for her fragrant summer breath?</div> + <div class='line'>Or Primrose, who doth haunt the hours of Spring,</div> + <div class='line'>A wood-nymph brightening places lone and green?</div> + <div class='line'>Or Cowslip? or the virgin Violet,</div> + <div class='line'>That nun, who, nestling in her cell of leaves,</div> + <div class='line'>Shrinks from the world, in vain?</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line in2'>Yet, wherefore choose, when Nature doth not choose,</div> + <div class='line'>Our mistress, our preceptress? <i>She</i> brings forth</div> + <div class='line'>Her brood with equal care, loves all alike,</div> + <div class='line'>And to the meanest as the greatest yields</div> + <div class='line'>Her sunny splendours and her fruitful rains.</div> + <div class='line'>Love <i>all</i> flowers, then. Be sure that wisdom lies</div> + <div class='line'>In every leaf and bloom; o’er hills and dales;</div> + <div class='line'>And thymy mountains; sylvan solitudes,</div> + <div class='line'>Where sweet-voiced waters sing the long year through;</div> + <div class='line'>In every haunt beneath the Eternal Sun,</div> + <div class='line'>Where Youth or Age sends forth its grateful prayer,</div> + <div class='line'>Or thoughtful Meditation deigns to stray.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c003'>THE CATTLE-ROAD TO RUIN.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c004'>There is more animal food consumed in +England than in any other country in the +world. We do not merely say more, in proportion +to the size of England, and the numbers +of its inhabitants—for then we should +only utter what every-body must know—but +we mean actually <i>more</i>, without any such proportional +considerations. Considering, then, +this vast amount of animal food, in all its +manifold bearings, it is impossible not to be +struck with a sense of what vital importance +it is to the health and general well-being of +the community that this food should be of a +perfectly wholesome kind. That very great +quantities are not only unwholesome, but of +the worst and most injurious kind, we shall +now proceed to show. We will set this question +clearly before the eyes of the reader, by +tracing the brief and eventful history of an +ox, from his journey to Smithfield, till he +rolls his large eye upward for the last time +beneath the unskilful blows of his slaughterer.</p> + +<p class='c005'>A good-natured, healthy, honest-faced ox, +is driven out of his meadow at break of day, +and finds a number of other oxen collected +together in the high road, amidst the shouting +and whistling of drovers, the lowing of many +deep voices, and the sound of many cudgels. +As soon as the expected numbers have all +arrived from the different stalls and fields, +the journey of twenty miles to the railway +commences. Some are refractory—the thrusting +and digging of the goad instantly produces +an uproar, and even our good-natured ox +cannot help contributing his share of lowing +and bellowing, in consequence of one of these +poignant digs received at random while he +was endeavouring to understand what was +required of him. From this moment there is +no peace or rest in his life. The noise and contest +is nearly over after a few miles, though +renewed now and then at a cross-road, when +the creatures do not know which way they +are to go, and some very naturally go one +way, and some the other. The contest is also +renewed whenever they pass a pond, or brook, +as the weather is sultry; and the roads are so +dusty, besides the steam from the breath and +bodies of the animals, that their journey seems +to be through a dense, continuous, stifling +cloud. It is noon; and the sun is glaring +fiercely down upon the drove. They have as +yet proceeded only twelve miles of their +journey, but the sleek and healthy skin of our +honest-faced ox has already undergone a considerable +change—and as for his countenance, +it is waxing wroth. His eye has become +blood-shot since they passed the last village +ale-house, where he made an attempt, in +<span class='pageno' id='Page_326'>326</span>passing, just to draw his feverish tongue +along the water of the horse-trough, but was +suddenly prevented by a violent blow of the +hard nob-end of a drover’s stick across the +tip of his nose. Besides this, the wound he +has received from the goad, has laid bare the +skin on his back, and the sun is beginning +to act upon this, as well as the flies. By the +time the twenty miles are accomplished, he is +in no mood at all for the close jam in which +he is packed with a number of others in one +of the railway cattle-waggons. He bellows +aloud his pain and indignation; in which +sonorous eloquence he is joined by a bullock +at his side, who has lost half one horn by a +violent blow from a drover’s stick, because he +had stopped to drink from a ditch at the +road-side, and persisted in getting a taste. +Our ox makes the acquaintance of this suffering +individual, and they recount their wrongs +to each other; but the idea of escape does not +occur to them; they rather resign themselves +to endure their destiny with stolidity, if +possible. Hunger, however, and worse than +this, thirst, causes sensations which are quite +beyond all patient endurance; and again they +uplift their great voices in anger and distress.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Our rather slow-minded ox has now arrived +at the opinion that some mischief is deliberately +intended him, and feels convinced that +something more is needed in this world than +passive submission. But what to do, he +knows not. His courage is high—only he +does not comprehend his position. Man, and +his doings, are a dreadful puzzle to him. His +one-horned friend fully coincides in all this. +Meantime, they are foaming with heat, and +thirst, and fever.</p> + +<p class='c005'>After a day’s torture in this way, the animals +are got out of the waggon, by a thrashing process +which brings them pell-mell over each +other, many landing on their knees, some head +foremost, and one or two falling prostrate +beneath the hoofs of the rest. The journey to +London then commences, the two friends +having been separated in the recent confusion.</p> + +<p class='c005'>With the dreadful scenes, among the live +cattle, which regularly take place in Smithfield +market, our readers have already been +made acquainted; it will now be our duty +to display before them several equally revolting, +and, though in a different way, still more +alarming, scenes and doings which occur in +this neighbourhood, and in other markets and +their vicinities.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Look at this ox, with dripping flanks, half-covered +with mud; a horrid wound across his +nose; the flesh laid bare in a rent on his back, +and festering from exposure to the sun and +the flies; his eye-balls rolling fiercely about, +and clots of foam dropping from his mouth! +Would any one believe that three days ago +he was a good-natured, healthy, honest-faced +ox? He is waiting to be sold. But who will +give a decent price for a poor beast in this +unsound condition? He is waiting with a +cord round his neck, by which he is fastened +to a rail, and in his anguish he has drawn it +so tight that he is half-strangled; but he does +not care now. He can endure no more, he +thinks, because he is becoming insensible. +Presently, among several others brought to +the same rail, he recognises his friend with the +broken horn. They get side by side, and gasp +deeply their mutual torments. There are no +more loud lowings and bellowings; they +utter nothing but gasps and groans. Besides +the fractured horn, this bullock has since +received a thrust from a goad in his right +eye, by which the sight is not only destroyed, +but an effect produced which makes it requisite +to sell him at any price he will bring. +This being agreed upon, he is led away to a +slaughter-house near at hand. Our poor ox +makes a strong effort to accompany his friend, +and with his eye-balls almost starting from his +head, tugs at the cord that holds him by the +throat, until it breaks. He then hastens after +the other, but is quickly intercepted by a couple +of drovers, who assail him with such fury, that +he turns about, and runs out of the market.</p> + +<p class='c005'>He is in too wretched and worn-out a condition +to run fast, so he merely staggers onward +amidst the blows, till suddenly a water-cart +happens to pass. The sight of the shining +drops of water seems to give the poor beast a +momentary energy. He runs staggering at it +head foremost—his eyes half-shut,—falls with +his head against the after-part of the wheel as +the cart passes on,—and there lies lolling out +his tongue upon the moistened stones. He +makes no effort to rise. The drovers form a +circle round him, and rain blows all over him; +but the ox still lies with his tongue out upon +the cool wet stones. They then wrench his +tail round till they break it, and practise +other cruelties upon him; but all in vain. +There he lies.</p> + +<p class='c005'>While the drovers are pausing to wipe +their sanguinary and demoniac foreheads, and +recover their breath, the ox slowly, and as if +in a sort of delirium, raises himself on his legs, +and stands looking at the drovers with forlorn +vacancy. At this juncture the Market Inspector +joins the crowd, and after a brief glance at the +various sores and injuries, condemns the ox +as diseased—therefore unfit for sale. He is +accordingly led off, limping and stumbling to +the horse-slaughterer’s in Sharp’s Alley, duly +attended by the Inspector, to see that his order +of condemnation be carried into effect. They +are followed at a little distance by two fellows, +whose filthy habiliments show that they have +slept amidst horrors, who keep the diseased +ox in view with a sort of stealthy, wolfish +“eye to business.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>The dying ox, with the drover, and the +Inspector, having slowly made their way +through the usual market difficulties, and (to +those who are not used to it) the equally revolting +horrors of the outskirts, finally get +into Sharp’s Alley, and enter the terrific den +of the licensed horse-slaughter-house.</p> + +<p class='c005'>It is a large knacker’s yard, furnished +<span class='pageno' id='Page_327'>327</span>with all the usual apparatus for slaughtering +diseased or worn-out horses, and plentifully +bestrewn with the reeking members and +frightful refuse of the morning’s work. But +even before the eye,—usually the first and +quickest organ in action,—has time to glance +round, the sense of smell is not only assailed, +but taken by storm, with a most horrible, +warm, moist, effluvium, so offensive, and at +the same time so peculiar and potent, that +it requires no small resolution in any one, +not accustomed to it, to remain a minute +within its precincts. Three of the corners +are completely filled up with a heap of dead +horses lying upon their backs, with their +hoofs sticking bolt upright; while two other +angles in the yard are filled with a mass of +bodies and fragments, whose projecting legs +and other members serve as stretchers for +raw skins,—flayed from their companions, +or from themselves, lying all discoloured, yet +in all colours, beneath. By this means the +skins are stretched out to dry. A few live +animals are in the yard. There is one horse—waiting +for his turn—as the ox-party come +in; his knees are bent, his head is bowed towards +the slushy ground, his dripping mane +falling over his face, and almost reaching with +its lank end to the dark muddled gore in +which his fore hoofs are planted. A strange, +ghastly, rattling sound, apparently from the +adjoining premises, is kept up without intermission; +a sort of inconceivably rapid +devil’s-tattoo, by way of accompaniment to +the hideous scene.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Two dead horses are being skinned; but +all the other animals—of the four-footed class +we mean—are bullocks, in different stages of +disease, and they are seven in number. These +latter have not been condemned by the Inspector, +but have been brought here to undergo +a last effort for the purpose of being made saleable—washed +and scrubbed, so as to have the +chance of finding a purchaser by torchlight +at some very low price; and failing in this, to be +killed before they die, or cut up as soon after +they die as possible. They were all distinguished +by slang terms according to the nature +and stage of their diseases. The two best of +these bad bullocks are designated as “choppers;” +the three next, whose hides are torn in +several places, are called “rough-uns;” while +those who are in a drooping and reeking condition, +with literally a death-sweat all over +them, are playfully called “wet-uns.” To +this latter class belongs our poor ox, who is +now brought in, and formally introduced by +the Inspector, as diseased, and <i>condemned</i>. +The others he does not see—or, at least, does +not notice—his business being with the ox, +who was the last comer. Having thus +performed his duty, the Inspector retires!</p> + +<p class='c005'>But what <i>is</i> this ceaseless rattling tattoo +that is kept up in the adjoining premises? +The walls vibrate with it! Machinery of +some kind? Yes—it is a chopping machine; +and here you behold the “choppers,” both +horses and diseased bullocks, who will shortly +be in a fit state for promotion, and will then +be taken piece-meal next door. Ay, it is so, +in sober and dreadful seriousness. Here, in +this Sharp’s Alley, you behold the largest +horse-slaughter-house in the city; and here, +next door, you will find the largest sausage +manufactory in London. The two establishments +thus conveniently situated, belong +to near relations—brothers, we believe, or +brothers-in-law.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Now, while the best of the diseased bullocks +or “choppers” are taken to the sausage +machine, to be advantageously mixed with +the choppings of horse-flesh (to which latter ingredient +the angry redness of so many “cured” +sausages, <i>saveloys</i>, and all the class of <i>polonies</i> +is attributable), who shall venture to deny +that, in the callousness of old habits, and the +boldness derived from utter impunity and +profitable success, a very considerable addition +is often made to the stock of the “choppers,” +from many of the “rough-uns,” and from some +of the more sound parts of the miserable +“wet-uns?” Verily this thing may be—“’tis +apt, and of great credit,” to the City of London.</p> + +<p class='c005'>But a few words must be said of the +“closing scene” of our poor condemned ox. +We would, most willingly, have passed this +over, leaving it to the imagination of the +reader; but as no imagination would be at all +likely to approach the fact, we hope we shall +be rendering a service to common humanity +in doing some violence to our own, and the +readers’ feelings, by exposing such scenes to +the gaze of day.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Owing to some press of business, the ox was +driven to a neighbouring slaughter-house in +the Alley. He was led to the fatal spot, +sufficiently indicated, even amidst all the rest +of the sanguinary floor, by its frightful condition. +They placed him in the usual way; +the slaughterman approached with his pole-axe, +and swinging it round in a half-jocose +and reckless manner, to hide his want of +practice and skill, he struck the ox a blow +on one side of his head, which only made him +sink with a groan on his knees, and sway over +on one side. In this attitude he lay groaning, +while a torrent of blood gushed out of his +mouth. He could not be made to rise again +to receive the stroke of death or further torment. +They kicked him with the utmost +violence in the ribs and on the cheek with +their iron-nailed shoes, but to no purpose. +They then jumped upon him; he only continued +to groan. They wrenched his already-broken +tail till they broke it again, higher up, +in two places. He strove to rise, but sank +down as before. Finally they had recourse to +the following torture: they closed his nostrils +with wet cloths, held tightly up by both hands, +so that no breath could escape, and they then +poured a bucketful of dirty slaughter-house +water into his mouth and down his throat, till +with the madness of suffocation the wretched +animal was roused to a momentary struggle +<span class='pageno' id='Page_328'>328</span>for life, and with a violent fling of the head, +which scattered all his torturers, and all their +apparatus of wet rags and buckets, he rose frantically +upon his legs. The same slaughterman +now advanced once more with his pole-axe, +and dealt a blow, but again missed his mark, +striking only the side of the head. A third +blow was more deliberately levelled at him, +and this the ox, by an instinct of nature, evaded +by a side movement as the axe descended. +The slaughterman, enraged beyond measure, +and yet more so by the jeers of his companions, +now repeated his blows in quick succession, +not one of which was effective, but only produced +a great rising tumour. The elasticity +of this tumour which defeated a death-blow, +added to the exhaustion of the slaughterman’s +strength, caused this scene of barbarous butchery +to be protracted to the utmost, and the +groaning and writhing ox did not fall prostrate +till he had received as many as fifteen +blows. What followed cannot be written.</p> + +<p class='c005'>It is proper to add that scenes like these, +resulting from want of skill in the slaughterman, +are by no means so common in Smithfield, +as in some other markets—Whitechapel more +especially. But they occur occasionally in an +equal or less degree, in every market of the +metropolis.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The two haggard, wolf-eyed fellows who +had prowled after the ox, and his Inspector, +now step forward and purchase the bruised +and diseased corpse of the slaughtered (murdered) +animal, and carry it away to be sold +to the poor, in small lots by gas-light, on +Saturday nights, or in the form of soup; and +to the rich, in the disguise of a well-seasoned +English German-sausage, or other delicious +preserved meat! So much for the Inspector, +and the amount of duty he so ably performed!</p> + +<p class='c005'>We make the following extract from a +pamphlet recently published, entitled, “An +Enquiry into the present state of the Smithfield +Cattle Market, and the Dead Meat Markets +of the Metropolis.”</p> + +<p class='c017'>“The <i>wet-uns</i> are very far gone in disease, and +are so bad that those who have to touch them, +carefully cover their hands to avoid immediate +contact with such foul substances, naturally fearing +the communication of poison. A servant of a +respectable master butcher, about a twelvemonth +ago, slightly scratched his finger with a bone of +one of these diseased animals; the consequence +was that he was obliged to go to the hospital, +where he was for upwards of six weeks, and the +surgeons all agreed that it was occasioned by the +poison from the diseased bone. It is also a fact, +that if the hands at any time come in contact with +this meat, they are frequently so affected by the +strong smell of the medicine which had been given +to the animal when alive, that it is impossible for +a considerable time to get rid of it; and yet, it +will scarcely be believed, none of these poisonous +substances are thrown away—all goes in some +shape or form into the craving stomachs of the +hungry poor, or is served up as a dainty for the +higher classes. Even cows which die in calving, +and still-born calves, are all brought to market and +sold. Let these facts be gainsayed; we defy +contradiction.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>We must by no means overlook the adventures +and sufferings of sheep; nor the +unwholesome condition to which great numbers +of them are reduced before they are sold as +human food.</p> + +<p class='c005'>A sheep is scudding and bouncing over a +common, in the morning, with the dew glistening +on her fleece. She is full of enjoyment, +and knows no care in life. In the evening of +the same day, she is slowly moving along a +muddy lane, among a large flock; fatigued, +her wool matted with dust and slush, her +mouth parched with thirst, and one ear torn +to a red rag by the dog. He was sent to do +it by the shepherd, because she had lagged +a little behind, to gaze through a gap in the +hedge at a duck-pond in the field. She has +been in a constant state of fright, confusion, +and apprehension, ever since. At every shout +of the shepherd’s voice, or that of his boy, and +at every bark of the dog, or sound of the +rapid pattering of his feet as he rushes by, +she has expected to be again seized, and +perhaps torn to pieces. As for the passage +of the dog over her back, in one of his rushes +along the backs of the flock, as they huddle +densely together near some crooked corner +or cross-way—in utter confusion as to what +they are wanted to do—what they themselves +want to do—what is best to do—or what in +the world is about to be done—no word of +man, or bleat of sheep, can convey any adequate +impression of the fright it causes her. +On one of these occasions, when going through +a narrow turnpike, the dog is sent over their +backs to worry the leaders who are going the +wrong way, and in her spring forward to +escape the touch of his devilish foot, she +lacerated her side against a nail in the gatepost, +making a long wound.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The sudden pain of this causes her to leap +out of the rank, up a bank; and seeing a green +field beneath, the instinct of nature makes +her leap down, and scour away. In a moment, +the dog—the fury—is after her. She puts +forth all her strength, all her speed—the wind +is filled with the horrors of his voice—of the +redoubling sound of his feet—he gains upon +her—she springs aside—leaps up banks—over +hurdles—through hedges—but he is close +upon her;—without knowing it, she has made +a circle, and is again nearing the flock, which +she reaches just as he springs upon her +shoulders and tears her again on the head, +and his teeth lacerate anew her coagulated +ear. She eventually arrives at the railway +station, and is crushed into one of the market +waggons; and in this state of exhaustion, fever, +and burning thirst, remains for several hours, +until she arrives in the suburbs of Smithfield. +What she suffers in this place has been already +narrated, till finally she is sold, and driven off +to be slaughtered. The den where this last +horror is perpetrated (for in what other +terms can we designate all these unnecessary +<span class='pageno' id='Page_329'>329</span>brutalities?) is usually a dark and loathsome +cellar. A slanting board is sometimes placed, +down which the sheep are forced. But very +often there is no such means of descent, and +our poor jaded, footsore, wounded sheep—all +foul and fevered, and no longer fit food for man—is +seized in the half-naked blood-boltered +arms of a fellow in a greasy red nightcap, +and flung down the cellar, both her fore-legs +being broken by the fall. She is instantly +clutched by the ruffians below—dragged to a +broad and dripping bench—flung upon it, on +her back—and then the pallid face and patient +eye looks upward!—and is understood.</p> + +<p class='c005'>And shall not we also—the denizens of a +Christian land—understand it? Shall we not +say—“Yes, poor victim of man’s necessities of +food, we know that your death is one of the +means whereby we continue to exist—one +of the means whereby our generations roll +onward in their course to some higher states +of knowledge and civilisation—one of the +means whereby we gain time to fill, to expand, +and to refine the soul, and thus to make it +more fitting for its future abode. But, knowing +this, we yet must recognise in you, a +fellow-creature of the earth, dwelling in our +sight, and often close at our side, and trusting +us—a creature ever harmless, and ever +useful to us, both for food and clothing; +nor do we deserve the good with which you +supply us, nor even the proud name of Man, +if we do not, at the same time, recognise your +rightful claim to our humane considerations.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>In the course of last year, there were sold +in Smithfield Market, the enormous number +of two hundred and thirty-six thousand +cattle; and one million, four hundred and +seventeen thousand sheep. A practical authority +has curiously calculated the number +of serious and extensive bruises, caused by +sheer brutality, rather than any accidents, in +the course of a year. He finds that the +amount could not be less than five hundred +and twelve thousand. These are only the +body-bruises, and do not include any of the +various cruelties of blows and cuts on the +nose, hocks, horns, tails, ears, legs, &c. Of +course, this fevered and bruised flesh rapidly +decomposes, and is no longer fit for human +food. The flesh of many an animal out of +Smithfield, killed on Monday, has become +diseased meat by Tuesday evening—a fact too +well known. The loss on bruised meat in the +year has been calculated, by a practical man, +at three shillings a head on every bullock, +and sixpence on every sheep, making a total +loss of Sixty-Three Thousand Pounds per +annum. This loss, it is to be understood, +is independent of the quantity of bruised and +diseased meat, which <i>ought</i> to be lost, but is +sold at various markets, as human food. It is +also independent of the numbers of diseased +calves and pigs brought to market every +week, and sold. Very much of this diseased +meat is sold publicly—in Newgate Market, +and Tyler’s Market more especially—and at +any rate there is a special and regular trade +carried on in it. One soup establishment, for +the working classes, is said to carry on a +business amounting to between four hundred +and five hundred pounds weekly, in diseased +meat. It is also used by sausage, polony, +and saveloy makers; for meat pies, and a-la-mode +beef shops; and is very extensively by +many of the concocters of preserved meats +for home and foreign consumption. It is said +that one of the Arctic Expeditions failed, +chiefly, in consequence of the preserved meats +failing them. They would not keep. Is it +any wonder that they would not keep? What +they were made of—wholly, or in part—has +been sufficiently shown.</p> + +<p class='c017'>“In Newgate Market,” says the writer previously +quoted, “the most disgraceful trade is carried on +in diseased meat; as a proof of which, we assert +that one person has been known to purchase from +one hundred and twenty, to one hundred and thirty +diseased carcases of beasts weekly; and when it is +known that there are from twenty to thirty persons, +at the least, engaged in this nefarious practice +in this market alone, some idea may be formed of +its extent.</p> + +<p class='c017'>“The numbers of diseased sheep from <i>variola +ovina</i>, of small-pox, sent to this market, are alarmingly +on the increase, and it is much to be feared +that this complaint is naturalised among our +English flocks. It is very much propagated in the +metropolis. It is an acknowledged fact that upwards +of one hundred sheep in this state were +weekly, and for a considerable period, consigned +for sale from one owner, who had purchased largely +from abroad, and this took place at the early part +of the present year (1848), and was one of the +causes of the inquiry in Parliament, and the subsequent +act.</p> + +<p class='c017'>“An Inspector is appointed to this market with +full powers, acting under a deputation from the +Lord Mayor; but the duties of the office must be +of a very difficult nature, and probably <i>interfere +materially with the other avocations</i> of the Inspector, +as we find but little evidence of his activity. Compare +our statement above with the return laid +before the Board of Trade, and it will appear that of +fifty diseased carcases not one on an average is seized.</p> + +<p class='c017'>“Close adjoining to Newgate Market, is Tyler’s +Market, it is only separated by Warwick Lane. +This market is said to be private property, and +that no Inspector has ever been appointed. +Every description of diseased meat is sold here in +the most undisguised manner: it is <i>celebrated</i> for +<i>diseased pork</i>. It has been stated by a practical +man, one well acquainted with the facts, and fully +capable of forming a correct opinion, that nearly +one half of the pigs sold in this market during +the pork season of 1847, ending March, 1848, was +diseased and unfit for human food; and of all +other diseased animals, what has been said of +Newgate applies with far greater force to this +market. In Leadenhall Market diseased meat is +also sold, though not to the same extent. Whitechapel +Market is situate to the south of the main +or high street bearing the above name. It is +rather difficult to describe the trade carried on +here. The situation of the shops—<i>long, dark, and +narrow</i>, with the <i>slaughterhouses behind</i>—is well +adapted for carrying on the disgraceful practices +<span class='pageno' id='Page_330'>330</span>in either a wholesale or retail manner to a very +great extent. Some of the very worst description +of diseased animals brought to Smithfield alive +are here slaughtered, and large quantities of meat +from the country, totally unfit for food, arrive in +every stage of disease, and are sold by the pound +and the stone, to a fearful extent. The following +are the names of the other meat markets, to all of +which some diseased animals and meat find their +way,—and to <i>none</i> of them is any Inspector +appointed:—</p> + +<p class='c017'>“Clare Market, retail; Newport, wholesale and +retail: St. George’s, retail; Oxford, retail; Portman, +retail; Brook’s, retail; Sheppard’s, retail; +Boro’, retail; Carnaby, retail; Spitalfields, retail; +Finsbury, retail. At all of these markets the meat +is exposed for sale on Saturday evenings, under +the glare of projecting gas burners; and the poor, +who receive their wages on that day, and are the +principal customers, are deceived by its appearance +in this light; their object is of course to obtain +the cheapest and the most economical joints; the +meat without fat, which is generally most diseased, +is selected by them, being considered the most +profitable, though the fact is that this species of +meat has been proved to be the cause of cancerous +diseases, and diseases of the chest and lungs.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>The above was attested by one of the +witnesses before the Committee of 1828. To +think of these abominations having gone on +regularly ever since! Why, it looks as though +our legislators had received a communication +from one of the Inspectors, assuring honourable +gentlemen that “it was all nonsense, all +this talk about diseased meat! If the meat +was now and then a little queer—though <i>he</i> +had never seen such a thing—none of the +poor were any the worse for eating it!” But +we will answer for one thing;—the Inspector +never breathed a word about the <i>preserved +meats</i> which so frequently present themselves +with a modest air in purple and white china +as delicacies for rich men’s tables!</p> + +<p class='c005'>The <i>foreign stock</i>, and the circumstances +under which they arrive, must not be passed +over. They are confined during four or five, +or even six days, in the dark and stifling hold +of the vessel, and it frequently occurs that in +all this time there is scarcely any food given +them (we are assured, on good authority, that +there is often <i>none</i>) nor one drop of water. +The condition in which they arrive may be +conjectured. Besides the extensive preparations +for the Monday’s market, which are +made by the drovers and salesmen of the +home stock during Sunday, the desecration of +the “day of rest” is immensely increased by +the supply of foreign stock, which arrives at +the railway at the same time. Foreign vessels, +(we are quoting from evidence before a Committee) +bringing cattle, endeavour to arrive +here on Sunday as early as possible, in order +that the salesman may see the stock before the +animals are brought into the market. There +is also a very large supply of calves from Holland, +which are all carted from Blackwall; and +the confusion and uproar there, and at Brewer’s +Quay on a Sunday morning, passes all belief. +Great quantities of cattle are also sent on +Sunday in order to avoid the expense of +<i>lairage</i>, or standing-room. About two thousand +men and boys are employed in this +real Sunday desecration. Need we say, it is +of the most shocking and cruel nature? <i>Here</i> +is something really worthy of the storm that +is so much wasted on minor matters in this +much-vexed question.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c003'>CLASS OPINIONS.</h2> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c001'> + <div>A FABLE.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c004'>A Lamb strayed for the first time into the +woods, and excited much discussion among +other animals. In a mixed company, one day, +when he became the subject of a friendly +gossip, the goat praised him.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Pooh!” said the lion, “this is too absurd. +The beast is a pretty beast enough, but did +you hear him roar? I heard him roar, and, +by the manes of my fathers, when he roars +he does nothing but cry ba-a-a!” And the +lion bleated his best in mockery, but bleated +far from well.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Nay,” said the deer, “I do not think so +badly of his voice. I liked him well enough +until I saw him leap. He kicks with his +hind legs in running, and, with all his skipping, +gets over very little ground.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>“It is a bad beast altogether,” said the tiger. +“He cannot roar, he cannot run, he can do +nothing—and what wonder? I killed a man +yesterday, and, in politeness to the new comer, +offered him a bit; upon which he had the +impudence to look disgusted, and say, ‘No, +sir, I eat nothing but grass.’”</p> + +<p class='c005'>So the beasts criticised the Lamb, each in +his own way; and yet it was a good Lamb, +nevertheless.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c003'>THE REGISTRAR-GENERAL ON “LIFE” IN LONDON.</h2> +</div> + +<p class='c004'>The Modern Babylon, so great in other +things, has a giant’s appetite for mortality. On +an average, a thousand persons die in London +weekly, and are, as a rule, buried under +the ground on which they fall. In old days +there was no general record of the character +and locality of this great concentrated mortality; +but since the establishment of our +present system of registration of births, marriages, +and deaths, we are able to test not only +how many people die, but where they die and +what they die of; and are able to tell moreover, +to a considerable extent, how far the +mortality may be ascribed to inevitable and +how far to removable causes. We can +now, in fact, almost say, how many die by +the folly of man and how many by the law of +nature.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The volumes in which this information is +given are by no means attractive at a first +glance. They appear under the authority of +a government office, and contain column after +<span class='pageno' id='Page_331'>331</span>column and page after page of forbidding-looking +figures, printed in the smallest and +closest of type. Yet these account-books, in +which the business done by the great destroyer +is posted up from day to day, and year +to year, contain some highly curious and important +facts.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The average of a thousand deaths a week in +London is by no means evenly distributed over +the year, or over all parts of the metropolis. +Each season and each parish has its peculiarities. +Nor is mortality spread evenly over +the various years of life, for the grim tyrant +has a special appetite for humanity at particular +ages.</p> + +<p class='c005'>We have already, in some words about +weather wisdom, spoken of certain diagrams +in which the changes of our English seasons +have been delineated, and in which the characteristics +of succeeding years are shown by +curved lines. At the Registrar-General’s +sanctum—a quiet office in the quietest part of +Somerset House—Mr. Farr has reduced those +curves to circles, and the results display themselves +in the shape of coloured diagrams, +showing the varying temperature of years, and +the degree in which temperature influences +mortality. The mean temperature of the year +arrives in spring about the 115th day, and +in autumn about the 293rd day of the year. +The coldest period is the first three weeks in +January, the hottest days being from about +the 200th to the 220th of the year. In the +diagrams that exhibit these facts, certain +spaces represent each one hundred deaths, and +we soon see how much more favourable to life +in England warm weather is than cold. In +hot countries the reverse is the rule, hot +seasons being fatal seasons, because excess at +either end of the scale it is which does the +mischief. In England the plague and other +epidemics, which made such havoc amongst +our forefathers were brought to killing intensity, +in unusually hot seasons. But deficient +as our sanitary regulations now are, they have +been so greatly improved within the last century +or two, that summer is no longer our period of +greatest average mortality, unless we suffer +from some terrible visitant like cholera, and +then, of course, all ordinary calculations are +set at nought. Moderation suits all human +beings. Our excess of heat or of cold raises +the mortality; moderate warmth being more +favourable, however, than moderate cold.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Mortality in the Metropolis seems regulated +by a variety of circumstances, the principal +being the elevation of each district above the +level of the river Thames; the number of +persons who live in the same house; the +size and character of the house as regards +ventilation and cleanliness; the state of the +sewerage; the number of paupers in the +neighbourhood; and the abundant and good, +or scanty and bad, supply of water. Each +London parish has its rank and value in the +registrar’s records of health and death; +and the figures are so exact, that there is no +evading the verdict they pronounce. At first +thought, one might be inclined to expect that +all the health would be found where all the +wealth and fashion are congregated. But it +is not so. As a rule, those districts stand well +whose inhabitants are most blessed with the +good things of this life, but, running through +the catalogue as arranged in the order of their +salubrity, we find some localities above the +average of health—nay, one at the very top—which +fashion knows nothing of.</p> + +<p class='c005'>In these statements of the registrar, the +different districts of the Metropolis are placed +in a list according to their healthiness, those +in which the fewest persons die in a year +out of a given equal number, standing first, +followed by those next in sanitary order, +until we come down to those which are but +just above the average for all London. Passing +that Rubicon, we see the names of those parishes +in which death gets more than his proper +proportion of victims every year; and then, +one after another, down, down the list, until +we reach its lowest depths, in those places +where filth and fever reign paramount, and +where such a destroyer as Cholera finds hundreds +of victims already weakened by previous +unhealthy influences, and ready to fall a rapid +and easy prey.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Let us go through this graduated scale, that +shows how health and disease struggle for the +mastery, and how death turns the balance.</p> + +<p class='c005'>First on the list stands Lewisham, a large +parish stretching from Blackheath across the +open hilly fields towards Norwood, and including +the hamlet of Sydenham. Its rural +character, scattered population, and good +water, explain its pre-eminence on the sanitary +scale. The second name on the list carries us +at once from a green suburban parish to one +of the centres of fashion and aristocracy,—to +St. George, Hanover Square. The presence +of this parish, so high up on the scale, is due +to several circumstances; and its claims to +such prominence are more artificial than those +of its rural competitor for the palm of healthfulness. +The scale is made out from the +census of 1841, which was taken during the +height of the London season, when St. George’s +was of course much fuller than it is on the +general average of the year. Its population, +too, is to a great extent composed of servants +“in place,” and, therefore, generally young +and in good health, and who, when dangerously +sick, are sent to the hospitals, or to the country +to die. The masters and mistresses of St. +George’s, also, are so circumstanced, that when +in bad health they can try the sea-air, or +retire to country seats. All these facts tend +to lessen the mortality of the district, and +thus tend to place it high up on the sanitary +scale. Its advantages are, an average elevation +of forty-nine feet above the high water mark +of the Thames; its neighbourhood to the +parks; its wide open streets; a supply of +water drawn from a Company whose system +of filtration is very good; a comparatively +<span class='pageno' id='Page_332'>332</span>thin population, compared with its extent, +there being, in this parish, only sixty-six +persons to an acre; and the size and character +of its houses, which return an average rental +of 153<i>l.</i> a year.</p> + +<p class='c005'>From the fashionable “west end” we have +to travel to a suburban spot for the third place +in rank on the health-scale. It is the sub-district +of Hampstead. All who have been +upon its breezy heath, with its elevation three +or four hundred feet above the river, and its +open view of the surrounding country, will +readily understand why Hampstead should +rank high in salubrity—though its average of +rental may be low, and though more persons +(as they do) live in each house than in the +houses of Bermondsey and Rotherhithe.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Fourth on the list comes Hackney, which +has only thirteen persons to an acre. This +advantage will be seen more strongly, when +we know that Hampstead has but six, and +Lewisham, but two; whilst East London has +two hundred and eighty, and Southwark, one +hundred and sixty-five persons per acre. +Hackney also has water from the New River, +a comparatively pure source; and, though +its houses are small, with a rental of but +35<i>l.</i>, the number of occupants to each is but +seven.</p> + +<p class='c005'>For the fifth in order of salubrity we +have again to cross the Thames. It is Camberwell. +This parish lies very low, being +only four feet above the water mark; but, +then, it is fringed on one side by the open +country; is sheltered from cold winds; is +thinly peopled, having only twelve persons to +an acre, and only six occupants to a house. +Its drainage is, almost necessarily, bad, but +its neighbourhood to the green fields compensates +for many sanitary evils.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Wandsworth, with a burden of poor rates +almost equal in poundage to that inflicted upon +Southwark and Lambeth comes next. The +recommendations of Wandsworth are, a population +of only four to an acre. This indication +of ample open spaces explains the general +healthiness of the parish. Its position and bad +drainage have rendered it liable to very heavy +loss from epidemics. Cholera found a larger +proportion of victims in Wandsworth than in +the densest peopled parish on the north of the +river.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“Merry Islington” ranks only seventh in +spite of its high and dry position, and its New +River water, and its neighbouring fields. Its +elevation is eighty-eight feet above the river; +its density of population, twenty-five to an +acre; its average rental 35<i>l.</i>; its annual +deaths, one in fifty.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Kensington and Chelsea follow next, and +with them are included Brompton, Hammersmith, +and Fulham. They all lie low, but +are in pleasant company with fields and +open spaces; their people are well to do in +the world, and a large portion drink good +water.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The City of London district—that is, the +portion of the city round about the Mansion +House, and including the houses and warehouses +of the rich traders, who cluster near the +Lord Mayor’s chosen dwelling-place—comes +next in order. This is explained by the +elevation of the ground, which is thirty-eight +feet above the river; by the value of the property +(average rental 117<i>l.</i>) which excludes +the poor; by the fact that the Lord Mayor +and his neighbours do not drink Thames +water; and that their wealth enables them to +live well, and to obtain the best medical aid,—both +for rich and poor. The most affluent +also reside out of town, and many of their old +people are drafted off in their old age to +alms-houses, and to country unions. The +mortality of this part of the city is two +hundred and fourteen a year out of ten +thousand living.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Next after the neighbourhood of the civic +ruler, we have the locality which has been +chosen for the palace of the sovereign—St. +James’s. The population of this parish is +dense,—being two hundred and nine to an +acre, though its rentals are high. The palace +stands in by no means the best portion of the +district, but the saving points are the parks +and the absence of Thames water.</p> + +<p class='c005'>St. Pancras follows St. James’s, its recommendations +being an elevation of eighty feet +above the river, and a population not one-third +so closely packed as that of the parish +occupied by the palace. Its density is sixty +persons to an acre. Pancras, however, has +many poor, and consequently heavy rates.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Marylebone, its neighbour, claims to follow +Pancras, with a greater elevation and a +better class of houses, yet with bad drainage +and a heavier mortality. In Marylebone two +hundred and twenty-two persons die in a +year out of ten thousand. The population is +more dense than in the poorer district of +Pancras, but the near neighbourhood of Regent’s +Park and open country about Primrose +Hill has, of course, a favourable influence.</p> + +<p class='c005'>We have now to re-cross the river for the +thirteenth place upon this London Sanitary +Scale. It is Newington, a suburban parish, +with a level two feet below the water mark, +and with bad water, yet having fewer deaths +than more noted and more wealthy quarters. +Like Wandsworth, however, it suffered severely +from Cholera, as its swampy position +would lead one to expect.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The district round the palace of the Archbishop—Lambeth—follows +next in order. It +is raised but a very few feet above the high +water level; its rents are low, its poor rates +high, its nuisances many; and its water +supply bad. But it has the air-draught from +the river on one side, and it is not very far +from the fields on the other; and more than +all, it has but thirty-nine persons to an acre, +and so it escapes with fewer deaths in a year +than its unfavourable position would lead one +to anticipate. It is, however, another of those +spots where Cholera made great havoc.</p> + +<p class='c005'><span class='pageno' id='Page_333'>333</span>From what may be called one river side +extremity of South London, we skip over the +central water-side parishes, and go to the +opposite extremity of the metropolis to find at +Greenwich our next healthiest district. Like +Lambeth, this place lies low, is badly drained, +and has a poor class of houses, and consequently +of people. The secret of its position on +the scale of health is to be found in the fact +that the population is not dense, being only +twenty-one to an acre; that it has a fine park +for a playground, and is in near neighbourhood +to Blackheath, and thence to the open and +healthy hills and fields of Kent.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Now we must return again to the centre of +London for its next most healthy parish. It +is St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields; but having, it is +almost needless to say, no rural character, +except by name. Trafalgar Square, with its +fountains, is almost its only enjoyable open +space. The density of population is not over +great for such a position; the rental high; +the deaths two hundred and forty to ten +thousand living each year.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Away east again for our next and last parish +that stands above the general average of +London. Stepney is the place, with its multitude +of small houses at low rentals. It has +its water from the river Lea, and its inhabitants +have not very far to go when they +wish for a ramble in the fields. Its yearly +contribution to our total mortality is two +hundred and forty-two out of ten thousand +souls.</p> + +<p class='c005'>And here a dark line has to be drawn; for +Stepney is close down upon the average mortality +of all London. Each parish already +named pays less than the average tribute to +death—those presently to be enumerated pay +more. The contributions vary from Clerkenwell, +which is the least unhealthy on the black +list to Whitechapel, which is the most unhealthy. +This last parish indeed is the worst +in all the metropolis. Between the two extremes +of insalubrity, the districts range in +the following order: Clerkenwell, brought +down in the scale by its nests of poverty, and +doubtless, by its huge over-gorged grave-yard. +Bethnal Green, with its host of small houses, +and average rental of only 9<i>l.</i> The Strand—the +great thoroughfare of fine shops—with a +back neighbourhood of filthy alleys and riverside +abominations. Shoreditch, with its stock +of poor people and old clothes. Westminster—regal, +historical Westminster—raised but +two feet above the water level, and famous +alike for its abbey, its palace, and its rookeries. +Bermondsey, just level with the water line, +and poisoned by open drains and unsavoury +factories. Rotherhithe, damp and foggy. +St. Giles’s, another spot renowned for vice, +poverty, and dirt. St. George’s, Southwark, +low, poor, and densely crowded. Next come +the two portions of the City of London, technically +described as East London and West +London, being in fact those parts beyond the +centre surrounding the Mansion House—the +portions indeed especially indulged with the +frowsiness of Cripplegate and the choked-up +smells of Leadenhall; the abominations of +Smithfield; the exhalations of the Fleet ditch; +the fever-engendering closeness of the courts +off Fleet Street; and the smoky, ill-smelling +sinuosities of Whitefriars. Next below these +“City of London districts” we have Holborn, +with a density of two hundred and thirty-seven +to an acre, and a yearly mortality of two +hundred and sixty-six to ten thousand living. +Then St. George’s in the East, with a population +far less closely packed than that of Holborn, +yet sending two hundred and eighty-nine souls +to judgment every year out of ten thousand +living. Next St. Saviour’s and St. Olave’s, +the two other Southwark parishes who drink +Thames water taken from the stream near +their own bridge, and therefore below the +Fleet ditch. St. Luke’s, the locality of another +rookery. And, lastly, the zero of this register, +Whitechapel—with its shambles, its poverty, +its vice, and its heavy quota of two hundred +and ninety deaths a year out of ten thousand +living.</p> + +<p class='c005'>This glance at the results displayed in the +registrar’s thick volume of figures, published +last year, gives us not only an idea of the +curious information to be gleaned from the +labours of Mr. Farr and his brother officers, +but shows also how unevenly death visits the +different portions of our huge city. If from +our family of two millions the destroyer takes +a thousand souls a week to their final account, +the first and most certain to fall victims +are those who, from ignorance, or recklessness, +or poverty, outrage the natural laws by which +alone health and life can be preserved.</p> + +<p class='c005'>A comparison between the chances of death +which the Londoner runs as compared with +those suffered by his fellow countrymen in +other districts of England, might be put +familiarly somewhat after this fashion. If a +man’s acquaintances were fixed at fifty-two in +number, and they lived in scattered places +over England, he would annually lose one by +death in forty-five. If they lived in the southeastern +counties, the loss would be at the +lower rate of one in fifty-two. If they all +lived in London, he would lose one out of +thirty-nine.</p> + +<p class='c005'>This additional mortality is the penalty now +being, day by day, inflicted upon sinners +against sanitary laws in the English metropolis.</p> + +<div class='chapter'> + <h2 class='c003'>BED.</h2> +</div> + +<div class='lg-container-b c016'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“Oh, Sleep! it is a gentle thing,</div> + <div class='line in2'>Beloved from pole to pole!”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c004'>Was the heart’s cry of the Ancient Mariner +at the recollection of the blessed moment +when the fearful curse of life in death fell off +him and the heavenly sleep first “slid into +his soul.” “Blessings on sleep!” said honest +Sancho Panza: “it wraps one all round like a +mantle!”—a mantle for the weary human +<span class='pageno' id='Page_334'>334</span>frame, lined softly, as with the down of the +eider-duck, and redolent of the soothing +odours of the poppy. The fabled Cave of +Sleep was in the Land of Darkness. No ray +of the sun, or moon, or stars, ever broke upon +that night without a dawn. The breath of +somniferous flowers floated in on the still air +from the grotto’s mouth. Black curtains +hung round the ever-sleeping god; the +Dreams stood around his couch; Silence kept +watch at the portals. Take the winged Dreams +from the picture, and what is left? The +sleep of matter.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The dreams that come floating through our +sleep, and fill the dormitory with visions of +love or terror—what are they? Random +freaks of the fancy? Or is sleep but one long +dream, of which we see only fragments, and +remember still less? Who shall explain the +mystery of that loosening of the soul and +body, of which night after night whispers to +us, but which day after day is unthought of? +Reverie, sleep, trance—such are the stages +between the world of man and the world of +spirits. Dreaming but deepens as we advance. +Reverie deepens into the dreams of sleep—sleep +into trance—trance borders on death. +As the soul retires from the outer senses, as +it escapes from the trammels of the flesh, it +lives with increased power within. Spirit +grows more spirit-like as matter slumbers. +We can follow the development up to the last +stage. What is beyond?</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c018'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“And in that <i>sleep of death</i>, what dreams may come!”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class='c013'>says Hamlet—pausing on the brink of eternity, +and vainly striving to scan the inscrutable. +Trance is an awful counterpart of sleep +and death—mysterious in itself, appalling in +its hazards. Day after day noise has been +hushed in the dormitory—month after month +it has seen a human frame grow weaker and +weaker, wanner, more deathlike, till the hues +of the grave coloured the face of the living. +And now he lies, motionless, pulseless, breathless. +It is not sleep—is it death?</p> + +<p class='c005'>Leigh Hunt is said to have perpetrated a +very bad pun connected with the dormitory, +and which made Charles Lamb laugh immoderately. +Going home together late one +night, the latter repeated the well-known proverb, +“A home’s a home, however homely.” +“Aye,” added Hunt, “and a bed’s a bed +however <i>bedly</i>.” It is a strange thing, a +bed. Somebody has called it a bundle of +paradoxes: we go to it reluctantly, and leave +it with regret. Once within the downy precincts +of the four posts, how loth we are to +make our exodus into the wilderness of life. +We are as enamoured of our curtained dwelling +as if it were the Land of Goshen or the +Cave of Circe. And how many fervent vows +have those dumb posts heard broken! every +fresh perjury rising to join its cloud of hovering +fellows, each morning weighing heavier +and heavier, on our sluggard eyelids. A +caustic proverb says;—we are all “good +risers at night;” but woe’s me for our agility +in the morning. It is a failing of our species, +ever ready to break out in all of us, and in +some only vanquished after a struggle painful +as the sundering of bone and marrow. The +Great Frederic of Prussia found it easier, in +after life, to rout the French and Austrians, +than in youth to resist the seductions of sleep. +After many single-handed attempts at reformation, +he had at last to call to his assistance +an old domestic, whom he charged, on pain +of dismissal, to pull him out of bed every +morning at two o’clock. The plan succeeded, +as it deserved to succeed. All men of action +are impressed with the importance of early +rising. “When you begin to turn in bed, its +time to turn out,” says the old Duke; and +we believe his practice has been in accordance +with his precept. Literary men—among +whom, as Bulwer says, a certain indolence +seems almost constitutional—are not so clear +upon this point: they are divided between +Night and Morning, though the best authorities +seem in favour of the latter. Early +rising is the best <i>elixir vitæ</i>: it is the only +lengthener of life that man has ever devised. +By its aid the great Buffon was able to spend +half a century—an ordinary lifetime—at his +desk; and yet had time to be the most modish +of all the philosophers who then graced the +gay metropolis of France.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Sleep is a treasure and a pleasure; and, as +you love it, guide it warily. Over-indulgence +is ever suicidal, and destroys the pleasure it +means to gratify. The natural times for our +lying down and rising up are plain enough. +Nature teaches us, and unsophisticated mankind +followed her. Singing birds and opening +flowers hail the sunrise, and the hush of +groves and the closed eyelids of the parterre +mark his setting. But “man hath sought +out many inventions.” We prolong our days +into the depths of night, and our nights into +the splendour of day. It is a strange result +of civilisation! It is not merely occasioned +by that thirst for varied amusement which +characterises an advanced stage of society—it +is not that theatres, balls, dancing, masquerades, +require an artificial light, for all these +are or have been equally enjoyed elsewhere +beneath the eye of day. What <i>is</i> the cause, +we really are not philosopher enough to say; +but the prevalence of the habit must have +given no little pungency to honest Benjamin +Franklin’s joke, when, one summer, he announced +to the Parisians as a great discovery—that +the sun rose each morning at four +o’clock; and that, whereas, they burnt no +end of candles by sitting up at night, they +might rise in the morning and have light +for nothing. Franklin’s “discovery,” we dare +say, produced a laugh at the time, and things +went on as before. Indeed so universal is +this artificial division of day and night, and +so interwoven with it are the social habits, +that we shudder at the very idea of returning +to the natural order of things. A +<span class='pageno' id='Page_335'>335</span>Robespierre could not carry through so +stupendous a revolution. Nothing less than +an avatar of Siva the Destroyer—Siva with +his hundred arms, turning off as many gaspipes, +and replenishing his necklace of human +skulls by decapitating the leading conservatives—could +have any chance of success; and, +ten to one, with our gassy splendours, and +seducing glitter, we should convert that pagan +devil ere half his work was done.</p> + +<p class='c005'>But of all the inventions which perverse +ingenuity has sought out, the most incongruous, +the most heretical against both nature +and art, is Reading in Bed. Turning rest into +labour, learning into ridicule. A man had +better be up. He is spoiling two most excellent +things by attempting to join them. Study and +sleep—how incongruous! It is an idle coupling +of opposites, and shocks a sensible man as much +as if he were to meet in the woods the apparition +of a winged elephant. Only fancy an +elderly or middle-aged man (for youth is +generally orthodox on this point,) sitting up +in bed, spectacles on his nose, a Kilmarnock +on his head, and his flannel jacket round his +shivering shoulders,—doing what? Reading? +It may be so—but he winks so often, possibly +from the glare of the candle, and the glasses +now and then slip so far down on his nose, and +his hand now and then holds the volume so +unsteadily, that if he himself didn’t assure us +to the contrary, we should suppose him half +asleep. We are sure it must be a great +relief to him when the neglected book at last +tumbles out of bed, to such a distance that +he cannot recover it.</p> + +<p class='c005'>Nevertheless, we have heard this extraordinary +custom excused on the no less extraordinary +ground of its being a soporific. +For those who require such things, Marryat +gives a much simpler recipe—namely, to +mentally repeat any scraps of poetry you can +recollect; if your own, so much the better. +The monks of old, in a similar emergency, +used to repeat the seven Penitential Psalms. +Either of these plans, we doubt not, will be +found equally efficacious, if one is able to use +them—if anxiety of mind does not divert him +from his task, or the lassitude of illness disable +him for attempting it. Sleep, alas! is at +times fickle and coy; and, like most sublunary +friends, forsakes us when most wanted. Reading +in that repertory of many curious things, +the “Book of the Farm,” we one day met +with the statement that “a pillow of hops +will ensure sleep to a patient in a delirious +fever when every other expedient fails.” We +made a note of it. Heaven forbid that the +recipe should ever be needed for us or ours! +but the words struck a chord of sympathy in +our heart with such poor sufferers, and we +saddened with the dread of that awful visitation. +The fever of delirium! when incoherent +words wander on the lips of genius; when +the sufferer stares strangely and vacantly on +his ministering friends, or starts with freezing +horror from the arms of familiar love! Ah! +what a dread tenant has the dormitory then. +No food taken for the body, no sleep for the +brain! a human being surging with diabolic +strength against his keepers—a human frame +gifted with superhuman vigour only the more +rapidly to destroy itself! Less fearful to the +eye, but more harrowing to the soul, is the +dormitory whose walls enclose the sleepless +victim of Remorse. No poppies or mandragora +for him! His malady ends only +with the fever of life. <i>Ends?</i> Grief, +anxiety, “the thousand several ills that flesh +is heir to,” pass away before the lapse of +time or the soothings of love, and sleep once +more folds its dove-like wings above the +couch.</p> + +<p class='c005'>“If there be a regal solitude,” says Charles +Lamb, “it is a bed. How the patient lords it +there; what caprices he acts without control! +How king-like he sways his pillow,—tumbling +and tossing, and shifting and lowering, and +thumping, and flatting, and moulding it to the +ever-varying requisitions of his throbbing +temples. He changes <i>sides</i> oftener than a +politician. Now he lies full length, then half-length, +obliquely, transversely, head and feet +quite across the bed; and none accuses him of +tergiversation. Within the four curtains he +is absolute. They are his Mare Clausum. +How sickness enlarges the dimensions of a +man’s self to himself! He is his own exclusive +object. Supreme selfishness is inculcated on +him as his only duty. ’Tis the two Tables of +the Law to him. He has nothing to think of +but how to get well. What passes out of doors +or within them, so he hear not the jarring +of them, affects him not.”</p> + +<p class='c005'>In this climate a sight of the sun is prized; +but we love to see it most from bed. A +dormitory fronting the east, therefore, so +that the early sunbeams may rouse us to the +dewy beauties of morning, we love. Let there +also be festooned roses without the window, +that on opening it the perfume may pervade +the realms of bed. Our night-bower should +be simple—neat as a fairy’s cell, and ever +perfumed with the sweet air of heaven. It +is not a place for showy things, or costly. As +fire is the presiding genius in other rooms, so +let water, symbol of purity, be in the ascendant +here; water, fresh and unturbid as the +thoughts that here make their home—water, +to wash away the dust and sweat of a weary +world. Let no <i>fracas</i> disturb the quiet of the +dormitory. We go there for repose. Our +tasks and our cares are left outside, only to be +put on again with our hat and shoes in the +morning. It is an asylum from the bustle of +life—it is the inner shrine of our household +gods—and should be respected accordingly. +We never entered during the ordinary process +of bed-making—pillows tossed here, blankets +and sheets pitched hither and thither in +wildest confusion, chairs and pitchers in the +middle of the floor, feathers and dust everywhere—without +a jarring sense that sacrilege +was going on, and that the <i>genius loci</i> had +<span class='pageno' id='Page_336'>336</span>departed. Rude hands were profaning the +home of our slumbers!</p> + +<p class='c005'>A sense of security pervades the dormitory. +A healthy man in bed is free from everything +but dreams, and once in a lifetime, or after +adjudging the Cheese Premium at an Agricultural +Show—the nightmare. We once +heard a worthy gentleman, blessed with a +very large family of daughters, declare he had +no peace in his house except in bed. There we +feel as if in a City of Refuge, secure alike from +the brawls of earth and the storms of heaven. +Lightning, say old ladies, won’t come through +blankets. Even tigers, says Humboldt, “will +not attack a man in his hammock.” Hitting +a man when he’s down is stigmatised as +villainous all the world over; and lions will +rather sit with an empty stomach for hours +than touch a man before he awakes. Tricks +upon a sleeper! Oh, villainous! Every perpetrator +of such unutterable treachery should +be put beyond the pale of society. The First +of April should have no place in the calendar +of the dormitory. We would have the maxim +“Let sleeping dogs lie,” extended to the +human race. And an angry dog, certainly, is +a man roused needlessly from his slumbers. +What an outcry we Northmen raised against +the introduction of Greenwich time, which +defrauded us of fifteen minutes’ sleep in the +morning; and how indiscriminate the objurgations +lavished upon printers’ devils! +Of all sinners against the nocturnal comfort +of literary men, these imps are the foremost; +and possibly it was from their malpractices in +such matters that they first acquired their +diabolic cognomen.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The nightcap is not an elegant head-dress, +but its comfort is undeniable. It is a diadem +of night; and what tranquillity follows +our self-coronation! It is priceless as the +invisible cap of Fortunatus; and, viewless +beneath its folds, our cares cannot find us out. +It is graceless. Well; what then? It is +not meant for the garish eye of day, nor for +the quizzing-glass of our fellow-men, or of the +ridiculing race of women; neither does it +outrage any taste for the beautiful in the +happy sleeper himself. We speak as bachelors, +to whom the pleasures of a manifold existence +are unknown. Possibly the æsthetics of +night are not uncared for when a man has +another self to please, and when a pair of +lovely eyes are fixed admiringly on his upper +story; but such is the selfishness of human +nature, that we suspect this abnegation of +comfort will not long survive the honeymoon. +The French, ever enamoured of effect, and +who, we verily believe, even <i>sleep</i> “<i>posé</i>,” +sometimes substitute the many-coloured silken +handkerchief for the graceless “<i>bonnet-de-nuit</i>.” +But all such substitutes are less comfortable +and more troublesome; and of all +irritating things, the most irritating is a +complex operation in undressing. Æsthetics +at night, and for the weary! No, no. The +weary man frets at every extra button or superfluous +knot, he counts impatiently every second +that keeps him from his couch, and flies to the +arms of sleep as to those of his mistress. +Nevertheless, French novelette writers make a +great outcry against nightcaps. We remember +an instance. A husband—rather a good-looking +fellow—suspects that his wife is beginning to +have too tender thoughts towards a glossy-ringletted +Lothario who is then staying with them. +So, having accidentally discovered that Lothario +slept in a huge peeked nightcowl, and knowing +that ridicule would prove the most effectual +disenchanter, he fastened a string to +his guest’s bell, and passed it into his own +room.</p> + +<p class='c005'>At the dead of night, when all were fast +asleep, suddenly Lothario’s bell rang furiously. +Upstarted the lady—“their guest must be +ill;”—and accompanied by her husband, elegantly +coiffed in a turbaned silk handkerchief, +she entered the room whence the alarum had +sounded. They find Lothario sitting up in +bed—his cowl rising pyramid-fashion, a fool’s +cap all but the bells—bewildered and in +ludicrous consternation at being surprised +thus by the fair Angelica; and, unable to +conceal his chagrin, he completes his discomfiture +by bursting out in wrathful abuse of his +laughing host for so betraying his weakness +for nightcaps.</p> + +<p class='c005'>The Poetry of the Dormitory! It is an +inviting but too delicate a subject for our +rough hands. Do not the very words call +up a vision? By the light of the stars we +see a lovely head resting on a downy pillow; +the bloom of the rose is on that young cheek, +and the half-parted lips murmur as in a +dream: “Edward!” Love is lying like light +at her heart, and its fairy wand is showing +her visions. May her dreams be happy! +“Edward!” Was it a sigh that followed that +gentle invocation? What would the youth give +to hear that murmur,—to gaze like yonder +stars on his slumbering love. Hush! are the +morning-stars singing together—a lullaby to +soothe the dreamer? A low dulcet strain floats +in through the window; and soon, mingling +with the breathings of the lute, the voice of +youth. The harmony penetrates through the +slumbering senses to the dreamer’s heart; and +ere the golden curls are lifted from the pillow, +she is conscious of all. The serenade begins +anew. What does she hear?</p> + +<div class='lg-container-b c018'> + <div class='linegroup'> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>“Stars of the summer night!</div> + <div class='line in4'>Far in yon azure deeps,</div> + <div class='line'>Hide, hide your golden light!</div> + <div class='line in4'>She sleeps!</div> + <div class='line'>My lady sleeps!</div> + <div class='line in4'>Sleeps!</div> + </div> + <div class='group'> + <div class='line'>Dreams of the summer night!</div> + <div class='line in4'>Tell her her lover keeps</div> + <div class='line'>Watch! while in slumbers light</div> + <div class='line in4'>She sleeps!</div> + <div class='line'>My lady sleeps!</div> + <div class='line in4'>Sleeps!”<a id='r3'></a><a href='#f3' class='c006'><sup>[3]</sup></a></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='footnote' id='f3'> +<p class='c005'><a href='#r3'>3</a>. The first and last stanzas of a Serenade of Longfellow’s.</p> +</div> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c019'> + <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_337'>337</span>Published at the Office, No 16, Wellington Street North, Strand. Printed by <span class='sc'>Bradbury & Evans</span>, Whitefriars, London.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='pbb'> + <hr class='pb c001'> +</div> +<div class='tnotes x-ebookmaker'> + +<div class='chapter ph2'> + +<div class='nf-center-c0'> +<div class='nf-center c019'> + <div>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div> + </div> +</div> + +</div> + +<table class='table1'> + <tr> + <th class='c009'>Page</th> + <th class='c009'>Changed from</th> + <th class='c010'>Changed to</th> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class='c011'><a href='#t320'>320</a></td> + <td class='c020'>Reisen in der Niederlanden. Travels in the Netherlands</td> + <td class='c021'>Reisen in den Niederlanden. Travels in the Netherlands</td> + </tr> +</table> + + <ul class='ul_1'> + <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 78178 ***</div> + </body> + <!-- created with ppgen.py 3.57i (with regex) on 2026-03-11 11:08:49 GMT --> +</html> diff --git a/78178-h/images/cover.jpg b/78178-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a12c809 --- /dev/null +++ b/78178-h/images/cover.jpg |
